novelleonline Chapter 188, Section 85: Leave the rest to me.
Chapter 188, Section 85: Leave the rest to me.
Chapter 188, Section 85: Leave the rest to me.
"Long live Soviet!"
The KGB beast slammed his fist into his heart, revealing graying hair beneath the wrinkled black mask.
Gordon rubbed the bridge of his nose. Although he had managed to muster his energy, the situation was indeed quite troublesome.
He recognized the man; in fact, he had a deep impression of him. When he arrested him, the man was about the same age as he is now. But he never expected that after more than a decade, the man would still be in such good shape.
Looking at those perfectly sculpted muscles, glistening with sweat under the spotlight, with the tendons and veins clearly visible, Gordon was certain that if he were to take a punch head-on, he'd probably never be able to get up again.
Gordon felt ashamed that an elderly American agent with paranoia could maintain self-discipline in prison.
Oh! That's right, "KGB Beast" Anatoly was not a Soviet agent, but a CIA mole. During the Cold War, he stole a lot of top-secret information about the space program for the CIA, but was abandoned after most of his memories were erased after the collapse of the Soviet Union.
The huge psychological gap caused Anatoly to have problems with his self-perception. His years of living in the Soviet Union made him often fantasize that he was a KGB agent and carry out assassination operations against his imagined targets.
Despite being seriously ill, the CIA agent remained ruthless, and several of his assassination attempts against Gotham political figures were treated as accidental incidents by the police department.
Until Gordon took over the case.
In response to the KGB's operation to capture the beast, the GCPD mobilized its entire force. Anatoly did not disappoint, and despite being shot three times by Brock without wearing a bulletproof vest, he still managed to escape by leaping over a rooftop with his mangled body. In the final roundup, due to Gordon's delay, it took several officers swarming in to subdue the deranged Anatoly.
Because his problem was merely a deviation in self-perception, and his logic and reason were no different from those of ordinary people, he missed the opportunity to study at Arkham Asylum and ended up spending eighteen years in the dark and hopeless Blackgate prison.
"Anatoly, oh God, wake up! There are no enemies here."
"The enemy of the Soviet Union is my enemy. James, you're a dog of the American imperialists!"
Anatoly clenched his fists so tightly they cracked, his aged voice filled with rage.
Seeing that he couldn't communicate with the other party, Gordon adopted a boxing stance.
"James, I'm going to extinguish the light in your eyes!"
Anatoly stomped heavily toward Gordon, the ring rumbling under his weight. The terrifying pressure even caused Gordon to hallucinate, as if an angry horned dragon was charging toward him.
The towering Anatoly swung his fist downwards, the whistling fist grazing Gordon's head, the wind even ruffling the old man's sparse hair.
Gordon dragged himself to the side and punched his opponent in the ribs. He tried to replicate the first round of punches, but the hard, gritty sensation made him think he had hit a sandbag full of gravel.
Anatoli then turned around, his thick arm sweeping across like a bell tower striking a log.
Gordon was forced to bend over and dodge again, but the other man's knee was already coming straight at his face.
In a moment of desperation, he hurriedly bent his arm to block, but a tremendous force pushed him back to the edge of the ring.
The frenzied prisoners off the court immediately seized the opportunity, grabbing Gordon's ankles and pulling off his shoes. One of the bad guys even poked a shard of glass into the sole of his foot.
Gordon groaned and collapsed to the ground, but just as he pulled off the broken glass, Anatoly charged over with a thunderous thud.
A stomp came straight at him. Gordon scrambled to his feet, rolling twice on the ground to barely dodge it. But before he could regain his balance, the opponent's large foot came up again.
Gordon was forced to cover his chest with his hands and hold his breath.
Boom! ! !
The kick landed squarely on Gordon's chest, the old man's face darkened, and blood gushed from his mouth.
Gordon didn't know how many ribs he had broken, but he was certain that his internal organs had been damaged.
But he wasn't entirely helpless. As the other man raised his foot to stomp again, he swung the glass shard at Anatoli's supporting leg.
He intended to sever the man's Achilles tendon, but whether it was Anatoli's physical strength or the quality of his prison boots, the shard of glass only cut open the heel.
But this also saved his life.
Anatoly had no idea what weapon Gordon was holding, and cautiously, he jumped to create some distance.
"I thought this was a fair one-on-one match!"
"Fairness? I'm exhausted. If you really want fairness, why not let me rest for a bit?"
"The dogs of American imperialism don't deserve rest!"
Anatoly charged toward Gordon with his arms crossed, like a human bomb, his strong arms providing the best defense for the KGB beast.
Gordon couldn't find an opportunity to strike, so he could only move around the ring.
The ring match suddenly turned into a Spanish bullfight, with Anatoli as the angry bull and Gordon having to do everything he could to plunge the sword into his opponent's heart.
The premise is that even that small piece of glass can be considered a sharp sword.
"Anatole, what are you doing? Tear him to pieces!" Jess roared, slamming his fist on the railing from the second floor.
As the bookmaker, he used Gordon's survival time as the door, one door every one minute, three minutes, five minutes, and ten minutes.
With eight minutes already elapsed, if Anatoly failed to kill Gordon within ten minutes, he would have to return the bets and compensate all the gamblers.
Gamblers, however, are happy to see this scene. Winning money is just a bonus for these millionaires; what they want to see is this.
Is there anything more exciting and novel than a live bullfighting competition?
Anatoly ignored Jess's roar. As an agent, "caution" was his lifeblood. He would never act rashly before figuring out what the weapon in Gordon's hands was.
Suddenly, the spotlight above their heads flickered, and at the same time, Warden Jess's phone began to vibrate.
After glancing at the message, his expression turned extremely ugly.
"Stop!"
Jess rang the turn bell.
"That concludes today's competition. Guests, please exit via the emergency evacuation routes."
These words were clearly meant for the VIPs on the second floor, but the harsh protests came from the hardened criminals surrounding the ring. They had been waiting for a whole week, wanting to see Gordon torn to pieces.
"Not satisfied? Fine! The rest of the show is yours to do as you please." Jess coldly announced his decision over the loudspeaker.
The prisoners looked at each other, none of them understanding what the warden was up to.
But only Jess knew that Blackgate Prison was about to fall.
He had just received news that prisoners in areas A and B had staged a joint riot, and area C was about to fall, with the fighting soon to spread to area D.
He didn't understand why the riot had come so swiftly and silently; he only knew that things had escalated to such a great extent that he probably couldn't stay in his position as warden any longer.
The immediate priority is to cover the VIP's evacuation, after which he will also board the helicopter on the rooftop and make his escape.
The prison guards covered the VIPs' retreat, and the pressure chamber door was slammed shut.
The prisoners were still in a daze. Over the years, they had become accustomed to being beaten and disciplined by the prison guards. It was really hard to get used to the days like this, with nothing overhead and no dark gun barrels pointing down at them.
But people quickly realized that there were no surveillance cameras here, and now that the prison guards were gone, did this mean they could do whatever they wanted?
A barrage of fierce gazes converged on Gordon. Faced with a common enemy, the prisoners chose to unite. The underground fighting arena fell into a deathly silence, broken only by a series of synchronized footsteps.
The prisoners poured in from all directions and stepped onto the ring.
Gordon's living space was gradually squeezed and eroded.
But just then, the light flickered again.
But unlike before, this time, the entire venue was plunged into darkness.
Just as Gordon was feeling lost and confused in the darkness, he heard the rustling of ropes overhead, followed by a hand gently landing on his shoulder.
"You've suffered, leave the rest of the work to me."
>