Kryptonian: Man of Steel

Death Shooter fell to the ground, the cold floor tiles pressed against his back, making him shiver involuntarily.

He was just immersed in the joy of defeating his opponent, and before the pride had completely dissipated, he fell into another dilemma.

The Terminator's iron claws clamped his throat tightly, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

Death Shooter's eyes widened, full of disbelief. Just now, the grenade he fired, with terrifying power and fire, shot straight at the Terminator.

He saw with his own eyes that the grenade exploded on the Terminator, with flames and smoke everywhere, but the Terminator seemed to be fine, except that there was a thin layer of gunpowder ash on his battle suit.

That layer of tights, seemingly ordinary, revealed an unusual breath.

It fits tightly on the Terminator's body, as if it were his second skin, showing the Terminator's muscular body and giving people a sense of indestructibility.

Death Shooter couldn't help but wonder in his heart, what material is this suit made of? It can withstand such a fierce grenade bombardment and remain intact.

However, he soon realized that the problem was not the suit, but the Terminator himself. This guy's body seemed to be an incredible miracle.

What kind of monster is he? Is it really made of solid cast steel?

Death Shooter struggled and tried to get rid of the Terminator's control. But the Terminator's power seemed endless, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake it at all.

The fear in his heart became deeper and deeper. He had never met such a powerful opponent.

The Terminator looked at him coldly, and his eyes seemed to be able to see through all the falsehoods.

He didn't speak, but expressed his attitude with his actions. He waved his hand lightly and threw Death Shooter aside like throwing garbage.

Death Shooter fell to the ground in pain, coughing and gasping.

He felt that his throat was as painful as if it was torn, but he was more concerned about the incredible power of the Terminator. He looked up at the Terminator, his eyes full of awe and fear.

At this moment, he was willing to call the Terminator "the strongest man in the world".

Just because he took a grenade with his weakness as a man, he felt that the Terminator could apply for the Guinness World Record.

He no longer had any arrogance or conceit, because he knew that in front of the Terminator, he was just a tiny existence.

The Terminator ignored the surprise and fear of the Death Shooter, as if he had gotten used to such scenes. He stood there quietly, his eyes deep and firm, as if thinking about something.

The air around him seemed to solidify, with only the breathing of the Death Shooter echoing. He knew that he had been completely defeated, defeated by this seemingly ordinary man with incredible power.

However, he was not willing to fail like this.

He struggled to stand up, with an unyielding light in his eyes. He knew that he might not be able to defeat the Terminator, but he would at least try his best to fight.

At this moment, Luther's voice broke the silence. He said lightly: "Such passion is not suitable for you, Death Shooter. Think about your daughter, she is still waiting for you to go back."

This sentence, like a sharp needle, instantly pierced the tranquility of the air and pierced into the heart of Death Shooter fiercely.

A trace of astonishment flashed in his eyes, as if he was suddenly attacked by the cold wind in the winter, catching him off guard.

Because he had never told anyone that he had a daughter, this secret was hidden deep in his heart, like the most precious treasure, guarding it, and not daring to leak it at all.

"You...how do you know?"

Death Shooter's voice trembled a little, his hands clenched into fists, trying to hide the shock and fear in his heart.

He never thought that his secret would be known by the man in front of him.

Luther smiled slightly, and his eyes revealed an unfathomable light.

He did not directly answer Death Shooter's question, but continued: "You shot me and gave me a grenade. These accounts are not small. I want you 50 million is not too much?"

Fifty million!

This number is undoubtedly an astronomical figure for the Death Shooter.

Countless thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant, trying to find reasons to refute Luther.

However, when he saw Luther's calm and firm eyes, he knew he had no choice.

"This is really expensive..."

The Death Shooter smiled bitterly, his heart was full of helplessness and unwillingness.

He originally thought that his career as a killer would allow him to live a carefree life, but now, he has to worry about this astronomical ransom.

However, he knew more clearly that he had no room for bargaining now.

The man in front of him was not only powerful, but also ruthless, and he dared not resist at all.

"If it was an ordinary person who had died twice just now, I spared your life, do you think it's not worth it?"

Luther said lightly, his tone revealed an unquestionable majesty.

His eyes seemed to be able to see through the heart of the Death Shooter, making it impossible for him to hide or resist.

The Death Shooter's heart trembled, he knew that Luther was telling the truth.

If Luther hadn't shown mercy, he would have died long ago. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his inner turmoil.

Then, he nodded and said, "OK, deal. I'll give you 50 million, but you have to promise not to pursue this matter again."

Luther nodded slightly to show his agreement.

There was a cold light in his eyes.

"As long as you do what I say, I won't hold you responsible."

"Only if you don't come to Gotham again."

Luther added.

Hearing Luther's words, the Death Shooter rolled his eyes.

He smiled bitterly in his heart. Gotham has a monster like you who is invulnerable and has a body of steel. Why is he still here? Is he going to smash his own sign?

"There is one more thing. I want to know who hired you and him to come here to kill me."

Luther said coldly.

This question made the Death Shooter a little embarrassed. He frowned and said, "Sorry, I don't know this either. I just took the task on the killer network. Your head is worth 10 million. This price is something I can't refuse."

There was a hint of helplessness and bitterness in his words.

As a killer, he only knows how to execute tasks, but never asks about the identity of the employer.

This is also the rule of the assassin industry, and he doesn't want to break this rule out of curiosity.

"Only 10 million? I thought my life was worth at least hundreds of millions."

Death Shooter smiled bitterly and said, "10 million is already an astronomical figure. For assassins like us, this is a rare big order."