Rain slashed through the shattered ceiling, turning the concrete floor into a shallow, blood-streaked lake. The air reeked of rust, ozone, and the coppery tang of spilled life. Somewhere in the shadows, a loose chain swung, its hollow clanking the only rhythm in the chaos.
Hisoka stood at the center of it all—a monster carved from venom and madness.
His shoulders rose and fell with each ragged breath. Veins bulged along his neck and arms, blackened and throbbing like serpents under his skin. His muscles, already taut, had swelled further, distorting his silhouette into something grotesquely powerful. His eyes—once a gleaming gold—now burned crimson, pupils slit like a reptile's, glowing with a sickly green undertone.
He flexed his fingers. His knuckles cracked like gunshots.
Bungee Gum pulsed at his fingertips—thicker now, darker. The sticky strands dripped from his hands like molten rubber, hissing where they met the rainwater.
He exhaled, slow and deliberate.
Then he smiled.
"Ahhh…" His voice was a distorted growl, deeper than before, layered with something inhuman. He tilted his head, stretching his neck until the vertebrae popped. "This feels… delicious."
Across the ruined floor, Deathstroke rolled his shoulders, the servos in his armor whining in protest. He cracked his neck. "You're high out of your mind."
Hisoka chuckled, the sound guttural, vibrating in his chest. "Oh, I wish."
Deathstroke turned his head slightly, addressing Batman without taking his eye off Hisoka. "Where'd you get those knuckles?"
Batman flexed his hands. The Nth Metal glinted dully under the storm's pallid light. "Long story."
Deathstroke huffed. "Humor me."
Batman's voice was flat, devoid of emotion. A soldier reciting a report. "Nth Metal enhances strength. Increases striking power. My hits will hurt more. Maybe enough to put him down."
Deathstroke eyed the weapon. "What else?"
"Regeneration. Anti-magic properties. It absorbs energy and redistributes it. Can break enchantments, disrupt supernatural forces, weaken energy-based attacks."
Deathstroke smirked under his mask. "Sounds too good to be true."
Batman finally turned to him. His expression was blank, but his eyes—already flecked with unnatural red—betrayed the cost. "It kills you."
Deathstroke stared at him. Then he chuckled, low and humorless. "Figures." He slammed his gauntlets together, the shockwave humming through his armor like a live wire. "Looks like we're working together."
Batman took a step forward. "Looks that way."
Hisoka grinned, his teeth too white in the gloom. "How sweet."
Slade pointed his sword at him. "Don't expect to get a cut of the bounty."
Hisoka's grin widened. Then—
He moved.
One second he was standing still—the next, the air itself seemed to tear apart in his wake.
A blur of muscle and rain.
Deathstroke barely had time to raise his sword. Hisoka was already there, his fist slamming into Slade's ribcage with the force of a freight train. The impact sent Deathstroke skidding back, his boots scraping against wet concrete, leaving twin trails in his wake.
Batman lunged. A straight punch—Nth Metal-enhanced—aimed for Hisoka's jaw.
Hisoka twisted. The punch missed by an inch. The wind pressure alone cracked the floor beneath them, spiderwebbing outward.
Hisoka's eyes flickered. He darted in, elbow slamming toward Batman's ribs.
Batman caught it.
The Nth Metal gauntlets pulsed. A visible shock of energy feedback shot up Hisoka's arm. His muscles clenched. His grin faltered—just for a second.
Deathstroke moved in. His sword came down. A clean, perfect kill strike.
Hisoka leaned back. The Prometheum blade missed by a hair, severing a few strands of Hisoka's hair instead of his throat.
Hisoka lashed out—Bungee Gum snapping from his fingertips like a whip.
Deathstroke reacted fast. His gauntlet flared. The EMP pulse erupted in a blinding burst of blue light.
Hisoka twitched. His Nen flickered, the sticky strands of Bungee Gum recoiling like scorched tentacles.
Batman seized the opening. He lunged. His fist slammed into Hisoka's gut.
The impact shook the mill. Metal groaned. Dust rained from the rafters.
Hisoka felt it. For the first time, something deep inside him flinched. The venom in his veins dulled the pain, but the energy-sapping effect lingered, gnawing at his cells like acid.
Hisoka's eyes sharpened.
He loved it.
But he wasn't done.
His fingers twitched. Another burst of Bungee Gum.
This time, it latched.
One strand to Batman. One to Deathstroke.
Hisoka yanked.
They slammed into each other, colliding with brutal force. Their bodies crashed through rusted metal, breaking through two separate walls.
Deathstroke groaned. He pushed himself up, ribs screaming. He looked over.
Batman wasn't standing.
Deathstroke's fingers clenched. "You gotta be kidding me."
He forced himself up, limping toward Batman.
But Batman stirred.
Slowly.
His breathing was heavy. His skin was slick with sweat. His eyes—red.
Deathstroke frowned. "The effect works much faster than you made it sound like."
Batman exhaled. He didn't answer. He stepped forward, shaking the tension from his arms.
Deathstroke sighed. "This is gonna be bad."
They turned.
Hisoka stood in the rubble. He twitched. His fingers clawed at the air. His pupils were dilated, his breath ragged. The veins along his arms pulsed, bulging, creeping up his skin like wires ready to snap.
Then—he roared.
No laughter. No grin.
Pure, mindless rage.
Deathstroke adjusted his gauntlet. "I'm maxing out the EMP."
Batman cracked his knuckles. "Do it."
Deathstroke's gauntlet screamed. The pulse erupted, flooding the mill with raw voltage.
Hisoka jerked. His nerves burned. His muscles seized.
Batman moved.
His fist slammed into Hisoka's ribs.
Nth Metal siphoned his life force. The energy drain burned through Hisoka's body. Hisoka's back arched. His fingers twitched.
Then—
He moved anyway.
Faster.
Stronger.
He gripped Batman's throat and threw him.
Batman crashed into a steel column. The force cracked the base. The entire mill groaned.
Deathstroke didn't stop.
He lunged. His sword blurred. A downward strike—aimed to cleave through Hisoka's collarbone.
Hisoka caught the blade.
Barehanded.
Deathstroke's grip tightened. "Shit."
Hisoka yanked.
Deathstroke flew. His body slammed into a rusted beam, denting metal. Blood spilled from his mouth.
Hisoka stood there, panting. His body heaved, but he wasn't done.
He reached into his belt.
And injected more.
The venom pumped through his veins.
His body swelled. His muscles tensed. His pupils shrunk to pinpricks.
Batman staggered to his feet. "No."
Hisoka's jaw clenched. His eyes burned.
Then he charged.
They barely had time to react.
Deathstroke threw up his gauntlet—Hisoka ripped it off.
Batman moved to counter—Hisoka caught his wrist and slammed him into the floor.
The ground cracked.
Deathstroke reached for his blade—Hisoka stomped his wrist, snapping bone.
Deathstroke gritted his teeth. "Bastard."
Hisoka roared.
His arms snapped forward releasing Bungee Gum which is stronger and thicker it latched onto both of them.
Then he swung.
Their bodies collided midair.
Then he threw them both through the walls.
They crashed through steel and concrete, bursting into the rain.
Deathstroke groaned. He pushed himself up, breath ragged. "Damn."
He looked over.
Batman wasn't moving.
Slade muttered, "You gotta be kidding me." He forced himself up, stumbling toward him.
Then—Batman stirred.
But something was wrong.
His breathing was too fast. His muscles twitched. His eyes—red.
Deathstroke exhaled. "This is gonna be bad."
Batman clenched his fists.
Hisoka stood in the ruins.
Still breathing.
Still moving.
Deathstroke powered up his gauntlet. "Last round."
Batman cracked his knuckles.
They lunged.
The fight turned bloody.
Bones snapped. Blood spilled. The ground shook.
Then—
Slade said, "JUMP!"
Batman jumped.
Deathstroke slammed the ground, shocking them both.
They screamed.
Batman twisted midair, locked his fists—
And slammed Hisoka's skull into the concrete.
Silence.
Deathstroke dropped to his knees, gasping.
Hisoka didn't move.
Then—
Batman exhaled.
His heartbeat pounded—loud.
Too loud, you can hear it.
Deathstroke's eyes narrowed. "Take the knuckles off."
Batman lunged.
Deathstroke sighed. "C'mon."
—TO BE CONTINUED.