Chapter 32: Fire. A loud crackle followed by the sound of shattering glass, the clang of metal, and the screams of the crowd.

In that moment, everything around them shook violently. Plates and wine glasses on the table toppled to the floor, large pieces of debris fell from the ceiling, the chandelier swung violently, and chaos engulfed them.

Bruce instantly rose and peered through the shattered glass downstairs.

Raging flames, a fleeing crowd, and billowing smoke.

The entire mall was ablaze. The smoke obscured his view, but he could only see the crowds scurrying toward the various emergency exits.

He quickly grabbed a napkin, wet it, and tied it around his mouth and nose. Jack also reacted quickly, taking some urgent measures to prevent smoke and dust.

"Follow me!" Bruce grabbed Jack's wrist and pulled him along, following the crowd downstairs.

The air was filled with a pungent smell of smoke, the smoke alarms blared continuously, and the smoke filled the corridors. The panicked crowd squeezed down the emergency exits.

"Don't rush, escape in an orderly manner!"

Bruce shouted, trying to maintain order.

The narrow hallway was overcrowded, bodies tucked tightly together, elbows and knees digging into those next to them. The scorching air, mingled with smoke and dust, suffocated Bruce. The thick mass of

people pushed him forward. He had been holding Jack's hand, but the crowd separated them, and now he had no idea where Jack was. Bruce turned back to search, but the crowd behind him pushed him forward, forcing him to give up.

Amidst the crush, he dove to protect a child who had been nearly trampled, returning him to his mother.

When he reached the first floor, flames threatened to engulf the stairwell.

Instead of fleeing, Bruce braved the flames and headed down to the mall's ground floor, trying to find the mall's firefighting equipment to contain the blaze and help those inside escape.

He noticed several key points.

The explosion had occurred on the first floor, and the flames weren't linear, spreading gradually from one point.

He remembered it clearly: flames erupted in multiple locations almost instantly. This couldn't have been an accident; an accident couldn't have caused such destructive power, nor could it have triggered the chain reaction it had.

Someone had planned the ignition point in advance, intent on engulfing the entire mall in flames.

This was a deliberate terrorist attack.

Bruce clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white from the exertion.

He kicked aside fallen wood, dodging the charred debris falling from above, and searched the hallway until he finally spotted a fire hydrant on the side of a pillar next to the window.

He punched through the glass door and retrieved his fire hose. He connected one end of the hose to the hydrant's port and the other to a hose. He pressed the start button on the hydrant inside the box, opening the valve. He ran, hose in hand, aiming it at the flames.

"Sizzle!"

The high-pressure water instantly extinguished the fire. The burning ruins hissed sharply in the steam, bits of charred material washed to the ground, and the trapped crowd cheered.

Just as Bruce had extinguished the flames, successfully clearing a safe escape route, his sixth sense, honed by years of combat, suddenly sounded an alarm. His heartbeat quickened, and his instincts forced him to look down—

a red flame pierced the smoke, swept over his head, and struck the wall.

Bruce spun quickly, looking in the direction of the flames.

A man in black and white armor floated in the air, his back covered in silver-white wings. His black goggles reflected the firelight, and he held a flamethrower in his hand, resembling a silvery-white firefly.

Without a word, he raised the flamethrower high, aiming it at Bruce.

Bruce reacted instantly, dropping the water gun and leaping to the side, successfully dodging the terrifying flames. The raging flames enveloped the spot where he had stood, instantly charring and deforming the ground.

Perhaps because he didn't pose much of a threat, the Firefly-like figure didn't pursue him. After Bruce dodged, he first sprayed a stream of flames at the fire hydrant, completely destroying it. Then, he began to spray flames at the remaining crowd. Those who ran slower screamed and rolled on the ground. The scene became shocking for a moment.

Bruce's pupils trembled. He realized that he had to subdue the man in front of him immediately. Although he had no equipment or combat suit, he was still Batman.

He used the smoke to hide behind a pillar, out of Firefly's sight. Just as Firefly was about to rotate the nozzle to lock on a new target, Bruce suddenly leaped from behind him and punched the man's back wing armor. The metal plate was thinner there. The blow caused Firefly to lose balance and fall to the ground. The flamethrower in his hand deviated in direction, and the flames hit the wall beside him.

Bruce didn't miss the opportunity, charging forward to pin him down. His left hand gripped the flamethrower tightly, forcing it upwards, while his right fist clenched and hammered at the man's head.

One blow,

two,

three,

the metal dented, and his right hand splattered with blood.

The man he pinned threw up his arms to block, then slammed his knee into Bruce's abdomen.

The blow knocked Bruce off balance, forcing him to release his grip. Firefly seized the opportunity to maneuver the flamethrower, aiming it squarely at Bruce.

Flames surged, glancing across Bruce's face, burning painfully.

Firelight danced in his pupils, smoke and dust eroded his airways, sweat and blood mixed together, but his expression remained calm.

He picked up a steel pipe from the ground and struck the man in the head. Metal clashed, sparks flew, and the two men resumed their battle in the center of the mall.

...

Bruce seized the opportunity and launched a powerful attack, sending Firefly careening into a nearby shop.

The marble and porcelain display stand shattered under the impact. Firefly struggled to his feet, still attempting to attack Bruce with his flamethrower.

But what he hadn't noticed was that

Bruce had bent the barrel of the weapon, causing the flames to veer in a direction far different from what he had intended, leaving him harmless.

Bruce seized the opportunity to raise the steel pipe again and strike Firefly in the eye, perhaps the only opening in his iron armor.

The blow finally inflicted substantial damage, causing Firefly to recoil with a scream.

At that moment, a sudden, resounding crack echoed from the sky.

Bruce, perceptive, caught it. He looked up—

a massive metal billboard, its ripped ropes and twisted metal tumbling down with a crash!

"Boom!"

Smoke and dust billowed.

Bruce stumbled closer amidst the devastation.

Firefly lay unconscious on his back beneath the billboard.

Bruce frowned and dragged him out of the collapsed area.

The Firefly was heavy, and its steel build was a burden even for him with his dislocated arm. He struggled to pull it up and headed towards the exit.

But the passage ahead

was completely blocked by fallen steel beams and masonry.

The fire was raging, and he tried to clear the blockage, his arm burning red, and the wound on his shoulder was bleeding from the strain.

At that moment, a voice seeped through the cracks in the ruins -

"Bruce!"

It was Jack.