PFC Chapter 3751 The Perilous Situation of Dark City (4)
Chapter 3751 The Perilous Situation of Dark City (4)
Chapter 3751 The Crisis in Dark City (Part Fourteen)
“Something’s not right about him,” Night Owl said, frowning as he stared at the screen. “To be precise, he’s never been right. At first, he was kind of like Schiller I’ve met before, but then things just started to look off. What’s going on?”
"You've met him?" The maniac seemed very interested in this.
"Yes, in one instance. I've encountered two Schillers, who must be isomorphs from different universes. One was very radical, while the other was always scheming in the shadows. I thought today's Schiller would be the more radical one, and at first he did seem quite like it, but then something went wrong. Now he seems even less like it."
“No matter what, he can’t get out of the maze.” An ethereal voice echoed from the empty seats. “He will be trapped in my city forever. Either he will accept his defeat and leave like the previous Batman, or he will perish with the ghosts in the city.”
“Don’t be too confident,” Night Owl said. “The previous Batman was just strong, but this guy is really strange and hard to figure out. We’d better prepare for the worst.”
"The worst-case scenario is just going to fight him, right?" Kuangxiao said with a sneer. "Do you think you can't beat him? Well, it makes sense. Since the plan started, no one has been able to break through Ghost City's blockade. You guys haven't had much of a chance to make a move. If this guy really manages to escape, we can have some fun with him."
“I have a feeling,” said a Batman figure, thin, pale, and dressed in a dark sorcerer’s robe, sitting in a corner. “This isn’t going to be easy, and it won’t end anytime soon.”
Schiller and Batman walked towards the city center. But what puzzled Batman was the complete lack of light in the city. Batman, with his nanotech gadgets granting him night vision, was naturally unafraid of the darkness, yet Schiller strolled leisurely. Judging from his demeanor, one might mistake him for someone strolling in his own backyard.
Batman was deeply troubled, for he remembered the last time he'd been in such an atmosphere, monsters lurking in the darkness had emerged one after another. Even with his nanotech gear, he'd struggled to move. Was it really a good idea to just stroll around like this?
Just as Batman was thinking this, he saw a shadow begin to move at his feet. He was about to speak up to warn him when Schiller turned around, his gaze landing precisely on the shadow.
"Can your nanotech weapon attack this thing?" Schiller asked with great interest.
“Nothing with a physical form will work,” Batman said, shaking his head. “Neither bullets nor nanobots can do anything about this kind of spirit-like being.”
"Where's the blood?"
"what?"
“Blood, your blood,” Schiller repeated, then said, “hands.”
Batman hesitated before extending his hand. Schiller drew his dagger and made a small cut on Batman's index finger, then held the blood-stained blade up to his eyes. After a moment, as if confirming something, he continued, "The sins of a soul in life are heavy, but after the soul departs, they become less significant. Will you shed tears?"
Batman couldn't understand what he was saying at all. He stood there babbling incoherently, and Schiller said impatiently, "Give me a single tear, preferably one that's genuine."
This was truly asking too much. Batman tried hard to recall the sad events, but still couldn't cry. He could only stimulate his tear ducts with nanobots, grab a corner of his cape, and wipe his eyes.
Schiller stared at the damp fabric for a long time, then shook his head and said, "Unfortunately, it's not the tears of a saint either. This is a bit troublesome. Let's go to the church."
Schiller's words were so disjointed. Batman not only didn't understand a single word, but also thought he was completely insane. As Schiller took a step in a certain direction, Batman hesitated.
Schiller ignored him completely and walked on without looking back. Batman had no choice but to follow. After thinking for a moment, he said to Schiller, "Were you talking about religious matters? You think the attackers are really spirits, and that things related to the church can repel them?"
“That depends on what he’s thinking,” Schiller said in an overly calm tone. He gently wagged his finger and said, “You’ve played chess before, haven’t you? This is like we’re playing Go, but he suddenly changes the board to chess. What do you think?”
"Incomprehensible," Batman commented.
“That’s exactly what they wanted,” Schiller said seriously. “They know Batman is good at Go, but completely bad at, and even hates, chess. So they deliberately changed the chessboard so they could completely restrict Batman.”
Batman seemed to understand somewhat, and said, "Both the previous Batman and I are skilled in physical attacks, but neither of us knows anything about the occult. In most cases, we think it's pure fantasy. So they deliberately create things related to the occult to leave us defenseless and helpless."
“That’s it,” Schiller nodded. “Calling it mysticism isn’t accurate; it’s more like a kind of idealistic force. In the ghost city, the city’s will determines how things manifest. That shadowy mass that tried to attack us just now was what he considered an effective attack. So, what kind of counterattack do you think he would devise to be effective?”
“It’s definitely not firearms,” Batman said. “If they were coming for us, then all physical attacks would be ineffective. So, is it because the master of Ghost City doesn’t allow it that our physical counterattacks are ineffective?”
“Yes,” Schiller said, “but for the sake of fairness, it won’t render all countermeasures ineffective; there will always be one that is effective. But because it’s a false fairness, Batman certainly can’t use that effective countermeasure.”
"I see. This leads us to the conclusion that effective countermeasures are likely related to religion and mysticism. But I don't really know anything about this, so I'm afraid I can't be of any help. Do you know anything about it?"
“I’m thinking,” Schiller said. “The Angel of Death was your disciple, but for some reason he betrayed you and killed you. Doesn’t this story sound familiar?”
"Jesus and Judas?"
“That’s right. But now you’re using his body. That’s like the savior’s soul entering the traitor’s body. This could produce some strange reactions, or it could make neither of them pure. At the moment, it seems more likely that the latter is the case.”
"What's the point of this? What are we supposed to do?" Batman was clearly bewildered. He didn't understand anything, not even the explanation. He even doubted whether Schiller had actually explained anything.
“The blood of saints and the tears of sinners are very important. But if it’s the other way around, it doesn’t work so well,” Schiller muttered. He then turned to look at Batman and said, “We need to go to church and see what God thinks about this.”
They pressed on. But perhaps because the previous dungeons weren't that difficult, the monsters lurking in the shadows didn't charge at them relentlessly like they did when attacking Batman in Arkham. Instead, they lurked in the darkness, holding back their attacks, ready to pounce.
This gave them a chance to catch their breath, allowing them to move through the darkness. After walking for an unknown amount of time, Batman had lost his bearings, but Schiller's steps remained firm, as if he knew exactly which way the church was.
Finally, just as Batman was starting to feel exhausted, he saw the cathedral's spire. But this cathedral was nothing like the previous Gotham Cathedral; it was several times larger, resembling a Gothic castle. The exterior walls were dark and deep, the spire like the fangs of a monster, but the interior emitted a faint light, like a lamp lit in the darkness, or a light used to capture prey in the deep abyss.
Schiller walked straight in. Batman followed behind him.
The vast auditorium was completely empty. Although candles were lit on the walls, they were insufficient to illuminate such a large, dark space. Just as they entered, the statue of Jesus nailed to the cross at the very front slowly raised its head.
“Come here.” Schiller stood on the pulpit in front, beckoned to Batman, and said, “Put your hands on the Bible.”
Batman walked over and saw a Bible on the pulpit. He reached out, but just as he was about to touch it, he felt a burning pain in his fingertips. He instinctively pulled his hand back.
“Indeed,” Schiller said. “Judas killed Jesus and became a sinner. From then on, he could not touch anything related to the Savior. This is a characteristic of this body. Read it.”
Batman glanced at the Bible that Schiller had opened. He casually read a few lines, but suddenly noticed that the space around him seemed to brighten.
"Jesus suffered for all people. He is the true Savior. When he spread the truth, God's blessings came along with the reading. This is a characteristic of your soul. Don't stop."
Batman glanced at Schiller, but continued reading. It wasn't until the church space grew brighter that he realized he was emitting light. The light was even brighter than the candlelight.
He hadn't expected the solution to be so simple. But for Batman, it was indeed difficult. No matter how dangerous the situation, no Batman could possibly read the Bible in a crisis and expect God to save him.
Batmen like the Arkham Batman are highly improbable. They've always believed in relying on themselves rather than fate. The stronger the Batman, the stronger this mentality. Making them kneel and pray in a moment of crisis is worse than killing them.
"So this is a psychological trap?" Batman asked in a low voice.
“This is a false sense of fairness,” Schiller said. “It seems to leave you a way out, but it’s actually deliberately stepping on Batman’s blind spots. And even if you find that way out, he won’t let you out.”
Batman couldn't help but look around, only to find that nothing had actually changed. Apart from himself starting to glow, there was no sign of the illusion collapsing. In other words, they were still in the ghost city and hadn't left at all.
Under the holy light, the darkness elsewhere did not lessen but instead became even more intense. The monsters lurking in the shadows finally began to reveal their true forms.
One after another, dark shadows swayed at the edge of the holy light, relentlessly encroaching on the center. They gradually eroded the light, devouring it bit by bit, until they were closing in on Batman in the center.
"What do we do next?" Batman asked.
"Keep reading." Schiller turned to look at the statue of Jesus behind him, then surveyed the surroundings of the auditorium. He looked left and right, but couldn't seem to discern anything, and seemed to have no solution.
Watching Schiller's movements on the screen, Night Owl clicked his tongue and said, "I didn't expect him to actually pass this test."
After saying that, he looked at the empty spot. The other person sighed ambiguously and said, "You're right, this guy is strange. When he went to the church just now, I kept changing the streets and alleys, but I couldn't stop him. It's like he had foresight. But it doesn't matter. Even if he can use the Bible to fend off those monsters for a while, he can't escape..."
Boom——Boom——
The moment the deep roar of the engine filled the air, a gasp of alarm came from the empty seat.
Bang! ! ! !
Chairs and tables were sent flying. A large hole was smashed through the wall that projected the clock tower's image. Amidst the flying bricks and dust, a jet-black Batmobile roared to a stop right in front of the crowd. As the figure clad in metal armor stepped out, the intense killing intent emanating from him was as cold as Gotham's incessant rain all night.
"Long time no see, everyone."