In an apartment on Naihe Island, Gotham.
Nightwing, Dick Grayson, who had been hiding for many days, was sweating as he exercised.
Wearing a white sweatshirt and black shorts, his tight yet explosive muscles created a visually impressive physique.
"Ah! Ha ah!"
Nightwing's abdominal muscles contracted, then suddenly released.
Accompanied by the breathing of his muscle groups, the hammer in his hand struck down with a "boom."
"Bang!"
The hammer, weighing about 100 kilograms, slammed onto a specially made rubber tire.
The collision of the massive objects produced a grating sound.
Using a hammer to strike a giant tire can strengthen the abdominal and back muscle groups, as well as enhance the body's instantaneous explosive power.
He knew that Bruce had once used this method for physical training, and the training he was doing now was to emulate Bruce.
"Bang! Bang!"
Nightwing continued his breathing exercises, rhythmically striking the tire.
Sweat seeped from his forehead, quickly saturating his skin, shimmering in the sunlight.
After the explosive training, came the pull-up training.
However, ever since he had been trained by Batman, ordinary pull-ups were no longer effective for exercise.
So he custom-made a weight, tied it to his calves, and performed weighted pull-ups.
The weight, made of special material, had a density of up to 32 grams per cubic centimeter.
It was the size of a dumbbell plate, but weighed a full hundred kilograms.
"Ho ah!"
Nightwing used chains to tie the weight to his feet, and with coordinated breathing, pulled his entire body upwards.
His mind focused on his latissimus dorsi, imagining the muscles burning intensely there.
After completing 8 sets, he rested briefly, then proceeded to the next set of exercises.
"Huff puff"
After completing the pull-ups, came the barbell clean and jerk training.
The barbell he used was also made of special material, weighing up to 1200 pounds.
This was his current clean and jerk limit.
The human strength limit is roughly 800 pounds. Wei Chen's physical fitness is now approximately 5 times the peak human level.
Lifting the barbell, cleaning it, squatting with legs spread, then bringing his legs together and standing up, lifting the barbell over his head, all in one smooth motion.
"Clang!"
He threw the barbell to the ground, exhaled deeply, and continued with the second set of training.
After all the training items were completed, Nightwing looked towards the door.
Alfred, the butler responsible for guidance, walked towards him with a towel, offering him a nutrient solution and the towel.
His current job was not to guide this physical fitness expert in training, but to bring him water and towels, and incidentally, help him record his training results.
Batman's physical limits include a 1600-pound clean and jerk, the ability to catch high-speed darts with his bare hands, and the endurance to hold his breath underwater for 10 minutes.
With such strength, speed, and endurance, even ten Olympic all-around champions would likely be instantly defeated by him.
Although Nightwing has not yet reached Batman's level, he is continuously approaching these extreme physical limits.
"Master Grayson, you have been exercising for four hours straight. If you continue, I'm afraid your body won't be able to bear it."
Alfred looked at the panting Nightwing, whose body was covered in large red and bruised marks, and said worriedly, "I understand your current feelings, but this cannot be achieved by constantly refining your body."
Nightwing, whose eyes were slightly bloodshot, said to Alfred, "This is the only thing I can do. If I can avenge Bruce, I must use all my strength, even if I am utterly shattered."
"I think if Master knew, he probably wouldn't approve of you doing this. He would rather you live safely."
Alfred said with some heartache, "After all, he always disagreed with you all going on adventures and didn't want you to get hurt."
"I know."
Nightwing lowered his head, looking at his hands, which were already bleeding from being chafed, and said in a low voice, "The book he left me, I originally thought it was a method to deal with Homelander. But it was just some of his confessions, his guilt towards Jason, and his unresolved feelings about my departure."
"I always thought he was the kind of person who wouldn't express his feelings outwardly, but I didn't expect him to leave a few pages of text, apologizing to Jason and me."
Nightwing looked up at the night sky outside, his expression complex, and said, "No matter what, I will avenge Bruce in my own way!"
"Even if the cost is incredibly heavy?"
"Yes."
Nightwing said to Alfred, "Even if the cost is incredibly heavy."
After a moment of silence, he said to the butler, "However, there's no need to be too pessimistic. At least I've contacted a group of people who share my ideas."
Meanwhile, at the Iceberg Restaurant in Gotham City.
Raindrops fell from the sky.
The first rain of autumn had arrived just like that.
Penguin, the restaurant owner, had no mind to appreciate the autumn rain.
At this moment, he was roaring furiously at his subordinates.
"I told you bastards to discreetly transfer funds, and instead, you all got targeted by the tax department. Now those guys are clinging to me like leeches. Do you think Gotham here is still the Gotham of before? If you're not careful, Two-Face's fate will be my fate. Do you know how he's being treated in Arkham Asylum?"
He then cursed at a trembling subordinate, "And you, you bastard, weren't you boasting about Cornell University's Financial Engineering program?"
Tugging at his tie, Penguin, drenched in sweat, took a cup of coffee from his subordinate's hand and gasped for air.
Yes, he was busy transferring funds, preparing to flee abroad.
Mexico or Brazil, either way, he didn't want to stay here any longer.
His fear of Homelander was gradually causing his inner self to collapse.
Especially after seeing Homelander lift a city today, his despair deepened.
Is there really no one in this world who can stop him?
Even Batman hasn't shown up in a long time; the streets are saying he's dead.
There was no other way; filled with fear, he could only quickly escape.
Lest he end up like the others—Black Mask, Killer Croc, Riddler, Two-Face—imprisoned in the asylum and tortured.
Within just one month, he had successively sent people to the British Virgin Islands, Bermuda, and other places to register a large number of offshore funds and shell companies for future use. Registering offshore companies in these regions not only offers high confidentiality but also zero taxes, requiring only a small management fee. Most importantly, there are no foreign exchange controls, allowing capital to flow freely globally, making financial operations very convenient.
This method helped him transfer a lot of funds, but he didn't expect to encounter serious problems today.
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