My Superhero Can’t Be This Jerk

"Very good, the invisible man was forced to die, the motherland disappeared, the locomotive was hospitalized, and the Super Seven fell apart. There is no better news than this."

Madeleine sat on the sofa chair and covered her forehead in depression.

Although the terrorist attack that took place at the hearing objectively changed the unfavorable situation of Walter Company.

But Madeleine was in a bad mood no matter what.

She felt that everything was out of her control.

This company seems to have more forces lurking in private.

It made her feel less and less powerful.

"Ashley!"

She picked up the phone and dialed Ashley's number.

"Call the storm to my room!"

Not long after, the storm came to her room.

"Wow, nice setting, reminds me of Hesse's glass ball hut."

As soon as the storm came in, he commented on Madeleine's room carelessly.

"What Hesse?"

"Steppenwolf, The Glass Ball Game... Hermann Hesse, don't you know? Writer who likes to write neurotic fairy tales."

Storm explained.

Madeleine's head hurt even more in the face of the storm of eloquence. This guy is said to have a close relationship with the Fiddlesticks family, and his qualifications are especially old. He never takes anyone seriously.

This kind of person, unless necessary, she doesn't want to have any contact with each other.

"By the way," continued Storm, "Hesse was a traitor, he was a German, but he defected to his country, and he was a naked traitor. I remember he once wrote an article "Ah, Friends, don't speak like that", call for peace!"

The storm showed a disdainful expression, "Don't go to war, do you just watch us be invaded by those alien species?"

"Forehead......"

Madeleine didn't know how to respond.

I have long heard that the storm is a bit racist. It seems that it is not only racist, but other remarks are also very reactionary and dangerous!

"cough!"

Madeleine coughed and brought the topic back on track, "OK, let's talk about something else, like, what do you think about yesterday's hearing? I mean, you were there too."

"You suspect I did it...?"

The corner of Fengfeng's mouth rose slightly, "Although I really hope to kill all those **** who get in the way, but, sorry, that's not what I did."

Madeleine thought for a while and sat back on the sofa, "So... Are there any terrorists in the United States?"

"Except for the Arkham Knights, there are no terrorists. Of course, the Arkham Knights were originally yours... If you count them, there is not a single super terrorist."

"So—"

Madeleine suddenly thought of another person. She took a deep breath and asked in an uncertain tone: "Did Edgar do all this?"

The storm didn't seem to be too concerned about this matter. She said in a non-salty tone: "Maybe, I mean he is very smart, especially among African Americans."

She looked at Madeleine with a sad face, "Maybe, this is not a bad thing. Although there are some sacrifices, we undoubtedly have a good situation."

Madeleine looked at the smiling storm and felt that this woman was more dangerous than she thought!

......

"I thought you wouldn't come out with me."

Walking on the streets of the city, Nightwing put his hands behind his head and said to Eric.

Both are now wearing casual clothes.

The connection between walking in the daytime is not Batman and Nightwing, but the identity of ordinary people.

"It's okay to be idle anyway, so I'll investigate with you."

Eric felt that his nerves had collapsed too tight recently, so it would not hurt to go out for a walk and act as a detective by the way.

Eric handed the photo in his hand to Nightwing, "The name of the deceased was Stephen Rubinstein, eighteen years old, a student at New York University, who had an apartment in Ragmeier, but he took time out every week to meet and live in Yonkers' mother, and her mother lives in a pretty good part of Yonkers."

Yewing looked at the photo in his hand, and the boy named Stephen was lying on the cold concrete floor, "Is he only eighteen years old?"

He sighed slightly.

"Also, he doesn't drink alcohol or drugs, has no history of mental illness, and has never had any problems with his studies and communication."

Eric seemed to have all the information about the deceased. He continued: "According to the information provided by the surveillance video, do you know where the last place he appeared before he died?"

Nightwing shook his head, "Where?"

"The Big Red Chicken, the one where you fought! That means...he's gay!"

"I think ... that shouldn't have anything to do with my fight, at least I didn't see him in the bar."

Although a little surprised, Nightwing still spoke his mind.

"Maybe he left before you entered the bar. In short, the investigation has a clue, and that is the Big Red Chicken Bar!"

While talking, the two quickly arrived at their destination.

Although he wasn't wearing a blindfold now, Yewing was afraid that the bartender would recognize him, so he casually put on a hat to cover his face.

Standing outside the bar, Nightwing thought of the unbearable experience last night. He swallowed and asked Eric, "Do you mind?"

"what?"

"Enter a **** bar."

"It's daytime and there shouldn't be any of those hormonal guys in the bar~www.readwn.com~ so—don't worry."

As Eric said, he pushed open the door and walked in.

Sure enough, there was no one in the bar except the bartender and a bald uncle sitting far away from the bar.

It was the same bartender from yesterday, wearing a bright red coat, leaning listlessly on the bar.

There are glass shards on the ground, left over from the nightwing fight last night.

"Hey, would you like something to drink?"

The bartender asked Eric, who was at the forefront.

"Soda, Dick, what do you want?"

Nightwing stood behind Eric and replied in a low voice, "One Budweiser, thank you."

"Hey man, you know Stephen, don't you? Stephen Rubinstein."

Eric asked him after taking the soda.

The bartender was shocked when he heard the name, and then stared at Eric with suspicious eyes, "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"New York Police Department, man, I think we can talk." Eric said, showing his "police ID" to the other party.

After the bartender saw the police officer's card, he was still dubious about Eric's identity, "Officers, I heard that Stephen died last night, but I have to admit that I had nothing to do with his death."

Eric had already prepared for his remarks, and took out a few "Franklins" and put them on the table.

"I understand why you're wary of us, there's actually nothing suspicious about this case, and it all seems to point to a normal fall. But my colleague and I don't think so..."

Eric pointed his finger at Nightwing, "We think Stephen's case is worth our time. I have great sympathy for you people. Find out the evidence and the murderer, that's what we're going to do!"