Chapter 354: The Fanatical Owls!
A Call for Vengeance
The voice of the person on the speaker's stand was deep and hoarse; it had clearly been electronically altered.
According to the letters left by his father, the Court of Owls has no formal ranks but is governed by three leaders, who manage the court's daily affairs and control all resources, including the most mysterious and terrifying "Talon" unit.
If Thomas was not mistaken, the person at the stand was one of these leaders.
Thomas carefully examined the person, hoping to find some clue from their physique or demeanor, but after a moment, he shook his head regrettably. He had no impression of this individual at all.
"The Court appeared when Gotham was still a mere township. It was our ancestors who built this city, who provided shelter for the homeless, and ensured their children had food and education. Every corner of Gotham City is drenched in the blood and sweat left by our forbearers; our ancestors created all of this."
"We are no different. We follow the wishes of our ancestors, making this city a place of prosperity, bestowing its great name, and growing a small city of a few hundred thousand people into a metropolis of several million. We are the ones who achieved this city, who brought it hope and a future."
The leader spoke passionately from the stand, his hoarse voice echoing in every corner, as if it could penetrate the soul, causing every listener to involuntarily recall the past.
The atmosphere in the hall was silent. The members seemed affected by the speech, sinking into a state of loss.
"We have given everything to Gotham. Yet, this city is abandoning us, suppressing us, and trying to erase us. They are gradually shrinking our space, even attempting to wipe out the achievements of our ancestors and create a false history."
"They intend to replace us, steal our property, our status, our power, and our families, and throw us out like trash. Gentlemen..."
The leader deliberately paused, placing his hands on the podium, and his gaze swept over every person present.
"This time last year, there were fifty-seven members who attended the Court. Now, there are only thirty-six. Do you know where those twenty-one went?"
The atmosphere turned into a deathly silence, heavy with suppression. Even Thomas, unfamiliar with the full situation, could sense the hatred and resentment permeating the air.
"Yes, they are all gone. They were either sent to Blackgate Penitentiary, lynched by the mob, became residents of Arkham Asylum, or silently died in accidents."
"Bruce Wayne, Jim Gordon, Harvey Dent, Freire Cohen... and, of course, the most familiar and most disgusting: Batman."
At the mention of the last name, Thomas instinctively raised his head.
"The despicable usurpers have sharpened their cleavers, cutting our flesh, piece by piece. Are you willing to lower your heads and submit to the slaughter?"
"Kill them!"
Someone roared in anger. The atmosphere in the hall was instantly ignited. Everyone waved their fists, shouting hoarsely,
"Kill them!"
"Kill them!"
"Kill them!"
...
"Yes, kill them! Reshape this city and restore the glory of our ancestors!"
The leader spread his arms, his eyes scanning the crowd with fanaticism. Once the noise in the room subsided, he spoke, unhurriedly.
"Now, let us discuss the third matter: Revenge!"
"The Night of Vengeance is tonight. I intend to activate the Talons to eliminate the enemies of the Court, and this requires your approval."
The leader beckoned. Two attendants, dressed as servants, entered from a side door, carrying cards, a box, and quill pens. They walked up to each member, offered a card and a pen, and then collected the card into the box.
Soon, it was Thomas Elliot's turn.
The card had three options: Approve, Oppose, or Abstain.
Thomas thought for a few seconds and marked the Abstain option with a cross. The attendant looked at him with slight surprise but said nothing, collected the card, and moved to the next target.
Once all thirty-six cards were collected, the box was delivered to the speaker's stand.
The leader opened the box, inspected each card, and then excitedly announced,
"Thirty-five people voted to approve, and one abstained. Gentlemen, thank you for your support. Please stay at home tonight and wait for news. The Night of the Owl's Vengeance officially begins!"
After the speech, the members—full of expectation and completely unburdened by any guilt for the impending slaughter—left the main hall and entered a lavishly decorated side room filled with various drinks and food.
As a newcomer, Thomas could not avoid being scrutinized. He was curious about the identity of the members, and they, in turn, were curious about him. After decades of interaction, the people here had formed a powerful community of interests and knew exactly what faces lay behind the masks, but they continued to wear them for the sake of tradition and mystery.
"Sir, the leader requests your presence."
Just as Thomas was trying to strike up a conversation with someone who looked vaguely familiar, the attendant approached him and made an inviting gesture. Seeing this, Thomas had no choice but to abandon his plan and follow the attendant to an office in the back.
An Offer of Partnership
One person was sitting in the office: the leader from the speaker's stand. He waved his hand. The attendant bowed and left, closing the door behind him.
"Mr. Elliot, how do you feel after your first day?"
Thomas shook his head silently. "It's quite different from what I imagined."
The leader laughed heartily. "As expected of a member of the Elliot family. Your insight is as sharp as your father's." He sighed slightly. "The past year has been very hard on the Court. Many things have changed. We need fresh blood, especially talent like yours."
Thomas took off his mask and tossed it onto the table.
"I prefer to talk face-to-face."
"I like that too, unfortunately..." The leader spread his hands. "Reality does not permit it."
"Mr. Elliot, the reason we invited you to join is because of your family's excellent tradition. A hundred years ago, the Elliot family was already a core part of the Court. Your father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather all left a glorious history here. We hope this tradition continues. We need your talent, and in return, you can have everything you desire here."
"Everything?"
"Yes. Money, wealth, women, power. We can even make you Mayor."
Thomas narrowed his eyes. "What if I wanted to take on Batman?"
"Batman is a mortal enemy of the Court. Naturally, I sincerely hope you are not telling me that you are Batman."
Thomas sneered. "Of course, I'm not Batman. But I want to replace him and take everything he has."
"Oh!" The leader raised an eyebrow in surprise. "A very interesting idea. Replacing Batman and operating in the name of the Owl. Excellent. A creative thought, Mr. Elliot. It seems we can cooperate."
Thomas shook his head.
"The foundation of cooperation is strength. The Court of Owls is long-renowned, but I have yet to witness your power."
"You want to see the Talons?"
"Not just the Talons. I also want to see the one hundred suits of Tesla powered armor that vanished. I know the robbery is connected to you."
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