DC: Rise of the Kryptonian Tyrant

The director of the prison police was smart—and terrified. Leading a team of eight prison guards armed with standard-issue M4 rifles, he also brought along two emergency doctors and nurses. All were fully uniformed and alert as they arrived outside the super-prison.

When he saw Snart twitching helplessly on the ground, his expression was pained. A sharp toothache flared up—it was that bad.

If this guy died, the responsibility would be immense. After all, even prisoners had human rights.

If he ended up paralyzed, the blame would fall on him for not monitoring the prisoner's health in time.

And if he didn't die but managed to escape, that would be an even bigger disaster.

No matter what scenario he imagined, cold sweat trickled down his scalp. Hiding behind the armed guards, he shouted nervously, "Stay alert! Doctor, give emergency aid. Open the super-prison!"

The glass curtain wall of the prison slowly opened. Several guards kept their weapons trained on Bardi's twitching form.

Meanwhile, the prisoners in the surrounding super-prisons had eyes wide with disbelief. The super-prison actually opened?

It wasn't like no one had tried to fake illness before and launch an attack afterward.

But this prison had a top-tier detection system. It could easily verify such tricks.

In fact, when it detected someone was faking, the police chief didn't even bother. He'd let the guy play sick for a few days. Eventually, the prisoner would be back to eating and drinking, zoning out, losing his temper... and ultimately, healthy as ever. It was baffling.

But someone like Snart, pretending to this degree—like he was on the brink of death—there was no precedent.

The superintendent's heart tightened as he signaled for the emergency doctor to proceed.

"His arrhythmia is weakening, and his vitals are declining. It's serious. He needs an ambulance immediately."

The doctor placed his stethoscope to Snart's chest, checked his pupils, and urgently declared, "This prisoner is really dying. He needs emergency treatment now."

As he spoke, he began performing CPR to boost Snart's cardiopulmonary function, hoping to keep him alive until surgery.

The Chief Superintendent felt a moment of relief, only to tense up again. His toothache flared once more.

Sure, a prison break hadn't occurred. But if Snart died, he'd still bear responsibility. It was a nightmare.

"Hurry, get him on a stretcher! No time to wait for an ambulance! Use the jeep and take him straight to the hospital!" the Chief Superintendent shouted, holstering his pistol and dialing his phone.

The surrounding prison guards lowered their weapons. Two rushed to find a stretcher while the others, under the doctor's guidance, began moving Snart out of the super-prison.

Just as they were busy...

Suddenly, the two guards nearest Bardi collapsed. Bardi flashed like an afterimage, dashing past the superintendent's line of sight.

Like an invisible ninja, Bardi moved swiftly through the corners of their vision, silent and precise, each motion calculated and efficient.

He wasn't killing. Bardi simply passed by, dual blades in hand, knocking them out one by one.

By the time the Chief Superintendent sensed something was wrong, Bardi was already in front of him, sheathing his blades. Around them, the doctors, nurses, and guards had all collapsed with thuds.

"Thank you, Superintendent."

Bardi smiled kindly as he stood before him.

Cold sweat streamed down the Superintendent's back. His fingers twitched toward his holster but didn't dare draw.

Bardi was too fast.

In a flash, he had taken down eight people, including medical staff. The Superintendent knew he didn't stand a chance. All that remained was his trembling, chubby body, soaked in sweat and frozen in place.

From inside the prison, inmates' eyes lit up with excitement.

Bardi then casually pulled the soaked Superintendent over and used his fingerprints to unlock the rest of the super-prison cells, freeing everyone.

"Very well, Snart. I don't like you, but I owe you one."

Heatwave, his neck covered in burn scars, stepped out reluctantly and spoke to Bardi.

Between him and Snart, their differences had always been the greatest.

One played with fire, the other with ice—polar opposites in temperament and interests.

One by one, all the inmates in the super-prison were freed by Bardi.

Looking over the cheering crowd, Bardi spoke calmly, "I'm forming an organization to deal with The Flash. Every one of you was caught by him. You're qualified to join."

"Alright, I'm in."

The first to respond was the Trickster—a young, smiling, and sharp-witted guy. To him, this sounded like a fun and exciting challenge against The Flash.

"Alright, I'll play along," said Captain Boomerang with a scruffy grin.

"Fine, I'll work with you for now," Heatwave added, arms crossed.

"As long as The Flash is around, we've got no place in Central City. If getting out of Iron Heights means joining you, I'm in too," said the Weather Wizard, a thin man with a serious tone.

"Who do you think you are?"

A cold, mocking voice rang out. It belonged to a Black man with hostile eyes and strange powers. Even though Bardi had just freed him, there wasn't a hint of gratitude in his tone—just arrogance and scorn.

"Starting today, I'm the boss—"

Before he could finish, Bardi took two steps forward. In a flash, he stood before him. Before the man could activate his powers, Bardi had already snapped his neck. The man's eyes rolled as he collapsed to the ground.

"I don't want to use violence. Anyone else have an objection?" Bardi asked indifferently, letting the body fall at his feet.

The rest of the group inhaled sharply. Their pupils shrank. No one spoke another word. They all quietly accepted Bardi's offer and temporarily joined his organization.

Those who didn't were already dead.

Soon, the prison's massive alarm blared.

The Chief Superintendent leaned against the wall, nearly wetting himself. "I didn't call the cops…"

"I know. I don't kill unless necessary."

Bardi gave a faint smile, stepped up to the terrified officer, and knocked him unconscious with a hand strike to the neck.

Then he turned to look at the group of criminals he had just recruited, standing like a scene from the first five seasons of Prison Break.

After briefly getting acquainted and understanding everyone's abilities, the Trickster asked,

"Boss, what's our organization called?"

"We're all a bunch of rogues," Bardi said. "We'll be called the Rogue Gang."

(To be continued.)