Ultimate Assassin: Start as the sixth floor in the Continental Hotel

Blackgate Prison, top landing pad.

The famous Lord Black Mask led a group of mind-controlled prison guards here. An armed transport helicopter has been waiting here for a long time. The response personnel arranged by the "Supervisor" army stood in a solemn military posture to welcome their boss. Come.

Next to Mr. Black Mask, a Nige woman in professional attire was tied up and put on the transport plane. She spat at Black Mask with cold eyes: "You will regret it, Mr. Sionis."

"Oh~ Ms. Amanda, the greatest advantage of me is that I never regret..." Black Mask waved his hand gracefully, and behind him, most of the strange Gotham villains boarded the gunship.

"Hey! Hey! You're going to be overweight for your size! Waylon!" On the helicopter, the Mad Hatter frantically waved his hands towards Killer Croc who was about to get on the plane, with a look of panic on his face.

"Tch... ok, ok..." The big crocodile showed a very humane look of helplessness on his face, "I'd better go back to my sewer and stay there."

"Tonight belongs to us, everyone." Black Mask put his hands behind his back, nodded to the Gotham villains who were about to set off, and said in a brisk tone, "Arkham has a holiday earlier than us, but I think, you guys You should be able to have a lot of fun..."

"Oh...yes, yes, I can't wait for my little Alice to fall down the rabbit hole...wahahahaha~"

"Make Gotham have an unforgettable Christmas...it's decided, 25!"

There were bursts of cheers in the cabin of the armed helicopter. Black Mask was the last one to board the plane. He looked back at the prison guards who were standing there stupidly, made a hand gesture like a pistol, and pointed it at his temple.

"Good night, Gotham City..." he said with a chuckle, "Bang."

The prison guards with blank eyes uniformly pulled out their pistols from their waists and pointed the muzzles at their heads. Then, there was a burst of neat gunshots.

The armed helicopter slowly flew into the sky. The huge Killer Croc looked at the departing plane and said angrily: "This is simply discrimination! Aren't I just a little taller than them?!"

Then he jumped towards the strait behind Black Gate Prison, turned twice and a half in the air, and got into the cold water, making a huge splash.

"Wow!"

The movement is very elegant, but the splash is too big, so... no more 2 points.

Tonight is really long.

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When Slade arrived at Floyd's previous location, as expected, the guy had already moved his position.

"Tap...tap...tap..."

With his tactical boots on the cement floor, Slade was holding a knife in one hand and a gun in the other. He seemed to be casually inspecting the traces left by Floyd when he performed sniper tactics, but in fact he was very alert and alert. Watching everything around you.

On the list of mercenaries/killers in this world, both Slade and Floyd are on the list. DeathStroke and DeadShot not only have similar code names, but their rankings are also very close. Those who can be on that list are basically They are all the strongest killers in the world.

Old friends and old rivals, the two had collaborated to assassinate the leader of an armed group some time ago. Slade knew in his heart that the battle between them was destined to be... interesting.

Yes, it's interesting. Ever since he was inexplicably called by Batman to be a nanny, he either took care of children or killed other fish. Slade didn't say anything, but he had been holding it in his heart for a long time.

To be honest... a side effect of his becoming a military engineer was an uncontrollable desire to kill, and killing a bunch of trash fish couldn't suppress his onset at all...

opponent.

He needs an opponent!

"puff."

There was a soft sound like a fart, and those who didn't know thought it was a dead shot that the guy couldn't hold back, but in fact it was just the sound of a silenced pistol being fired.

And Slade seemed to have eyes in his back. Before the bullet hit him, he raised the knife behind him. A small spark appeared on the blade and made a crisp sound. Slade stood up slowly and said with a sneer: "Hello...Floyd."

"Hello, Slade, long time no see..." From the shadows in the corner, Floyd walked out with his gun raised, "How are you doing?"

"I'm taking a vacation in Gotham during this time to make some extra money." Slade turned around slowly, his tone a little irritated, as if he was chatting with a friend of many years, "What about you?"

"You know, I was caught by Batman and left here to eat and die for almost two months." Floyd's gun was still pointed directly at Slade, and his free hand spread out to express his feelings. Helpless, "No, there is a party today, and that brainless bitch Amanda Waller let me out..."

"Puff puff puff puff..."

"Bang bang bang bang..."

The gun in Floyd's hand opened fire without any morals, while Slade raised his gun lightly and fired a series of shots. The bullets of the two collided in mid-air, but no one was hit. Who.

"You still like to play dirty, Floyd." Slade narrowed his eyes and mocked.

"Aren't you the same? You're still so vigilant." Floyd chuckled and tilted his head, "Why, is the famous Deathstroke now working as a bodyguard for Batman? I've never heard of you. Qualifications of a hero, Slade.”

"It's a nanny... I can't help it, he gives me too much." Slade responded with a sneer, "80 US dollars... a daily salary."

"Damn it, is it too late for me to abandon the dark side and turn to the bright side now?" Floyd's voice sounded very excited, "Nothing else, I just admire Batman's financial resources, really."

However, in the next second, he had already swung the tactical rifle strap on his shoulder. Long before Slade arrived, the safety of the gun had been turned on. As the muzzle of the gun was raised, Floyd was actually aiming. He pressed the trigger without aiming!

“Bang bang bang bang bang—!”

The bullets were fired indiscriminately, and with such a set of sunset red marksmanship, none of them hit Slade, so that Slade just stood there without moving, and the bullets grazed the edge of his body. Fly out.

Body tracing? No, no, no...you underestimate Freud, my friend.

As we all know, in military terminology, there is something called a ricochet bomb. (I know what you want to say. The correct way to say it is to remove the word "bounce", but those two words together will not pass the test.) It means that it is used as a bullet. When hitting a smooth hard object at a certain tilt angle, the bullet can easily bounce and hit other objects.

Ricochet does not specifically refer to bullets, any explosive can produce a ricochet...

And what Floyd Lawton, AKA Deadshot, is best at is using the rebound of bullets to hit the target!