Rescue Mission: Birds of Prey

"It was going to rain."

Allen looked up at the night sky as a raindrop landed on his cheek.

He and Harley Quinn were heading toward the gang-controlled district to rescue Barbara and the others.

The situation was simple enough. Barbara and Poison Ivy had run into trouble, and the rest of the Birds of Prey had gone to rescue them. In the end, every one of them had gone missing.

Seeing that things had gone badly, Harley figured she might not be able to save everyone alone, so she remembered that Allen was Funny Bat.

Funny Bat was not especially popular with the public, but among superheroes and supervillains, he was someone not to be provoked lightly.

"What should we do, then?"

Harley casually suggested, "How about we take a cab?"

"No need."

Allen raised a hand to stop such wasteful behavior. Mainly because he was broke, and because he had sworn a poisonous oath never to take a taxi again.

"What are you doing?"

Watching Allen set down the metal case, Harley could not help moving closer in curiosity.

Without a word, Allen unlocked the case with his fingerprint and rummaged out two transparent raincoats. Kindly, he said, "Put one on. Don’t get soaked."

"Thanks."

Harley took the raincoat, unfolded it, and put it on.

Throughout the entire process, Allen stared without blinking, showing absolutely no hurry to put on his own raincoat.

"Ah…"

Harley let out a startled cry.

She instinctively covered her bikini area and demanded in embarrassment and anger, "Why is your raincoat see-through?"

"It was a see-through raincoat to begin with. It only sees through one layer of outer clothing."

With that, Allen put on his raincoat with a perfectly serious expression. From the outside, only his underwear remained visible, and the chest area even came with built-in mosaic censorship to prevent accidental exposure.

What kind of qualified lunatic would make normal equipment?

"Get on."

"On what?"

Harley looked at Allen sitting cross-legged atop the metal case and had a hard time understanding how that had anything to do with a vehicle. At the very least, he should attach four wheels before talking nonsense with his eyes open.

"Sit behind me and hold on."

Allen impatiently patted the empty space behind him.

Hiss…

Harley took a deep breath.

She decided to trust him one more time. If he really was messing with her, she would not hesitate to go rescue her teammates alone.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

After receiving an affirmative answer, Allen said in a low voice, "Activating flying magic carpet mode."

Boom…

High-temperature flames blasted from four points beneath the metal case, while another two thrusters at the rear controlled its direction.

Harley stared at the blazing flames in shock and asked incredulously, "It can really fly?"

"Flying is just one of its many insignificant functions."

Allen did not forget to introduce it. "The thrusters were removed from Mark Armor, and the whole thing uses the same alloy as Mark Armor. Not to brag, but there’s an energy reactor inside."

Mark Armor!

Iron Man’s technology?

"You’re that close with Tony?" Harley could not help asking.

Iron Man was one of the few heroes with a public identity. He also possessed a business empire worth hundreds of billions. He had capital when he needed capital and connections when he needed connections—a true super-capitalist. For him to be associated with a lunatic was simply absurd.

"I call him my grandnephew. What do you think our relationship is?"

An uncle-nephew relationship.

That was even more unscientific.

Harley thought this guy was completely insane. He had probably stolen Iron Man’s equipment.

Come to think of it, her former lover, Joker, seemed to have been the other man’s subordinate. Strictly speaking, they should have been enemies, yet now they had to work together. It was truly uncomfortable.

Back then, Joker Arthur had decisively sold her out, leading to her imprisonment and enlistment in the Suicide Squad. After surviving multiple life-or-death missions, she had earned her freedom on parole, but she still had to remain ready for deployment at all times. She hated Arthur to the core. From then on, she had lost all interest in men, so she eventually joined the Birds of Prey.

"Beast Team, move out!"

"It’s Birds of Prey!"

As the metal case accelerated, the airflow blew Harley’s two pigtails straight out sideways.

Inside a specially designed prison cell.

Batgirl Barbara, Poison Ivy Pamela, Black Canary Dinah, and Huntress Helena had fallen into enemy hands.

Of them, Dinah remained unconscious. She had been injected with a special drug that put her into a deep sleep, likely as a precaution against Black Canary’s sonic abilities.

Their relationships were rather complicated. Pamela liked Barbara, while Helena and Nightwing had once been involved.

In short, gathering them together was extremely awkward.

"I hope Harley doesn’t come alone," Helena said worriedly.

The four of them were highly skilled, yet they had still become prisoners. Harley Quinn had always been the type to charge in recklessly, so it was hard not to worry about her.

"Maybe she’ll ask Allen for help," Barbara said hopefully.

Pamela remained resentful. "Speaking of which, how did you get mixed up with a lunatic?"

The first thing she had done after leaving the hospital was move far away, hoping to stay out of Gotham and never run into Allen again.

Unfortunately, fate loved playing jokes.

"Batman gave me information about him. He looked lonely and helpless, so I took him in for a while," Barbara said frankly.

From the day the Bat-Family was founded, Batman had distributed information about its members to disciples scattered across various places, so they could avoid unnecessary conflicts when they met.

Allen’s file in particular had prominently noted his characteristics as a lunatic.

"He looked lonely and helpless…"

As though she had finally figured something out, Pamela gave Barbara a concerned look. "I think you got played."

"I don’t think he was pretending."

Perhaps because of her preconceived notions, Barbara remained convinced that she was right.

Good advice could not save someone determined to die.

Pamela glanced over Barbara’s chest and immediately felt that the phrase "big breasts, no brains" was entirely accurate. Besides, when her maternal instincts were overflowing, no words could get through to her.

Suddenly, the cell door opened.

Several burly men in full gear rushed in, their equipment more luxurious than that of a special operations squad.

After putting shackles on the four women, they escorted them out of the cell.

The enemy had no markings on them whatsoever, making it impossible to identify their affiliation. However, it was obvious that these men possessed astonishing strength.

Before long, they were brought before a balding old man.

His sparse hair was combed meticulously, and he wore a white lab coat, looking like some sort of research expert.

"Who are you people?" Barbara asked angrily.

Clearly, the people who had captured them were not all from the same group.

That evening, Pamela had approached Barbara in an attempt to repair their relationship. By coincidence, they had encountered someone calling for help, and they had chosen to intervene without hesitation.

However, they had fallen into the enemy’s trap. The victim had suddenly sprayed hallucinogenic drugs.

Pamela was immune to neurotoxins, but she could not simply abandon Barbara. She could only send her location coordinates and request support from her teammates.

As a result, they had come one after another to deliver themselves.

First Black Canary, then Huntress. Harley Quinn, the only one who had escaped disaster, had not been present.

"No comment."

The balding old man crossed his arms and said confidently, "But you should have heard of the great name William Perkin."

"…"

The three conscious women looked at one another, even blinking as they waited for him to introduce himself further.

Cough, cough…

After clearing his throat twice to ease the awkwardness, Perkin tried to salvage the situation. "It’s perfectly normal for people like you, who love violence, not to know an authority in the field of biochemistry."