Martin Variety in American Comics

At night, in an alley in Gotham.

Bang!

The sound of gunfire broke the silence of the night.

Martin, dressed in cowboy clothes, used his left hand to prop up the cowboy hat brim that had slid down from his head, revealing his brown pupils and slightly cute round face under his round glasses.

He held an old-fashioned revolver in his right hand, and a wisp of white smoke slowly floated out of the muzzle. The smell of burning gunpowder spread throughout the alley with the white smoke.

Just a few seconds ago, Martin had just shot away a bullet that was shot at him.

At this moment, three white men were standing in front of him. Their exposed bodies and shoulders were covered with large tattoos, and there were nose rings and nails on their noses and lips.

Martin frowned and asked, "This is the first time I've seen a robbery method that kills people right away. Aren't you afraid that I don't have any money on me and I'll take a life for nothing?"

"Shit, no meat!"

Several white men spoke with black accents, waving guns, and said nonchalantly, "It's a mistake to kill someone, who doesn't have a few lives in this ghost city. This is the game rule in Gotham, don't play if you don't like it!"

"Gotham!"

Martin sighed helplessly, "Why did I end up in such a ghost place?"

Traveling through the world is not a strange thing for Martin.

The first time he traveled through time was to become Martin.

After the age of six, his talent awakened. Every morning when he woke up, he would change his identity, fight wits and courage with people from all walks of life, meet new friends, and explore new worlds.

On his eighteenth birthday, he came to Gotham as soon as he closed his eyes and opened them.

Aliens, underwater, other worlds... There are only a few places he hasn't been to.

But Gotham, this world has too many dangers and troubles!

Fortunately, my parents, Guo Mo and Rona didn't come with us, otherwise it would be troublesome.

Martin's comments on Gotham resonated with the robbers, and they also cursed: "We also want to ask, why were we born in such a hellhole?"

Seeing their hysteria, Martin suggested: "It's rare that we have the same opinion on Gotham, and it can be regarded as fate, so let's say goodbye!"

"Of course not."

The robber refused without hesitation: "We are Gotham people, and we must do things in the way of Gotham people. Today, either you die or we die."

"Does it have to be like this?"

Martin shook his head helplessly. He just didn't want to bother with this group of zombies who lived on drugs, but these people obviously didn't have a clear understanding of their abilities.

"If you are willing to pay, of course it's better." The three robbers felt that the boy in front of them was scared.

"Well!"

Martin was helpless. His eyes suddenly became sharp, his hands turned into phantoms, and the revolver in his hand spewed out dazzling flames, illuminating the alley shrouded in darkness.

Bang, bang...

Five gunshots rang out in the alley at once, the intervals were so short that it seemed as if only one shot had been fired.

The gun in his hand was shot away by the revolver bullet.

The three robbers' pale faces due to excessive drug use became even paler.

At the moment when the pistol was shot away, two more people were shot through the knees, blood splattered, bones broke, and they fell to the ground with a plop, holding their wounds and began to wail.

This is Martin's identity today - a legendary Western gunman!

Although the performance of his revolver is not as good as that of modern automatic pistols, these robbers are obviously not masters of using guns.

In the skill of American Iai, they are far less skilled than Martin, an outsider.

"Now you are the only one left."

Martin looked up, stared at the only person standing through the brim of his hat with sharp eyes.

"Get out of here!"

Martin waved the empty revolver in his hand.

"You only have six bullets in your revolver, and you have used them all now!"

Although these three robbers are not smart, they are indeed not afraid of death.

The remaining guy saw that Martin's revolver was empty, showing a mouthful of almost rotten teeth, took out a switchblade and ran up to fight Martin.

"Alas, I hate this city full of violence and tricks."

Martin sighed.

Then, gunshots rang out in the alley again, and the last robber's two knees were shot through.

"I didn't say I only had one gun." Martin said coldly while holding the second gun.

"I gave you a chance, but you didn't cherish it."

Martin pointed the black muzzle of the gun at someone's head and ordered:

"Now, take out all the valuables on you. I only want banknotes and items that are easy to cash."

Under the threat of death, the three robbers endured the pain and took out everything on their bodies. In total, there was more than 500 cash, which they had just robbed and were about to throw away before they could even warm up.

As for rings and jewelry, although there was no place to cash them, Martin still took them out.

Martin waved a stack of green bills: "This is a great deal. If you have more money than you can spend, you are welcome to come to me again!"

Fuck you, you think we are ATMs, right!

Damn bastards.

No mistakes!

Look at the black muzzle of the gun pointed at him, and the robber, who was a little bit stronger because of the loss of money, withered again.

If you can't afford to provoke us, can't you hide from us!

Martin faced their hostile eyes and waved his hand and said, "Get lost!"

Gotham is a cruel place. If three drug addicts with no money and no weapons are lucky, they may be frozen to death on the streets of the slums in a few days.

If they are unlucky, they will be caught by the gangs and have their usable organs removed to pay off their debts.

Or, even worse!

Martin didn't want to dirty his hands, so he waved his revolver and signaled them to get out.

The two guys who only had one leg crippled stood up instantly, helped their companions up, and limped away from here.

The robber who had two legs crippled couldn't help but curse: "You two bastards actually pretended to be dead and used me as a shield. Do you still want brotherhood?"

"Is this your first day in Gotham? What kind of shit is friendship? How can it be more important than your own life."

The three people left cursing.

Martin then left the alley and returned to his residence in Gotham.

This single-family house is similar to his original home. The only difference is that it has changed from an apartment to an American-style small building.

Martin is a legendary western gunslinger today, so there are many long and short guns and sabers from the early 19th century in the house, as well as many medals and newspapers telling his deeds.

"Ah, another day is coming to an end!"

Martin threw the cash he robbed into the drawer in the living room, walked into the bedroom, took off his cowboy clothes, put on pajamas, and fell directly on the soft bed.

"What will I encounter tomorrow? I hope I can go home! There are too many troubles in this world, and I don't want to stay for long."

Muttering this, Martin covered himself with a quilt, his eyelids were heavy, and he gradually fell asleep.

In his dream, he saw his parents and two good friends. They seemed to be calling him, but when he reached out to grab them, they were empty.

When he opened his eyes again, it was already dawn, and Martin's pajamas had changed.

He turned over and got out of bed and stood in front of the mirror, looking at the classic three-piece suit of cloak shawl coat, deerstalker hat and gourd pipe.

"With this outfit, am I a detective today?"

Martin stroked his newly grown stubble and thought: "Well, as a detective in Gotham, I always feel that something bad will happen today."

Ding ding ding...

As soon as he walked out of the bedroom, he heard the doorbell. He ran to open the door and saw a handsome old man in a yellow windbreaker and glasses standing at the door.

The first thing he said was: "Martin, Batman needs your help!"

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