Chapter 1232

"Creak, creak..."

The wind blows the dilapidated door panel, and the jarring noise disturbs a good dream. When Bruce opens his eyes, the morning light shines in through the window glass that is missing a corner.

Just as he tries to exert force to climb up from the ground, he feels a sharp pain at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Bruce covers his neck and lets out a short, low groan of pain.

Clark, sleeping beside him, wakes up upon hearing the movement. He looks at Bruce with sleepy eyes, and the next second he is wide awake. He looks at Bruce with concern and asks: "What's wrong? Did your wound burst open again?"

Bruce shakes his head gently, lies back in place, and says: "I think I might have a stiff neck."

Clark sits up, sighs, stands up, walks to the door, makes some room for Bruce, and then reaches out to pull Bruce up.

The room where the two are staying is a guest room in an old post station hotel, but there is no bed here, only a row of wooden racks about the height of a fist—the kind of slatted racks placed under cargo boxes. On top of them is a dilapidated mattress, with springs poking out from the sides, scratching Clark's clothes and pulling threads.

Diana is staying next door. There is a bed in that room, but it wasn't that the two men exercised gentlemanly spirit and gave that room to her; the situation was exactly the opposite: Diana gave this room with a mattress to the ordinary human, Bruce.

And Diana's own room only has a bed frame without a mattress. Diana had to bring out the skills she learned living in the Amazon, using plastic sheeting to make herself a hammock, just to manage to sleep for the night.

The Latin American region is actually not as backward as many people imagine; there are still quite a few decent big cities.

But the most terrifying part is that the areas outside the cities have almost no infrastructure. Let alone water and electricity, many places don't even have roads. This is the case for the place where Bruce and the others are.

That's right, this is not an abandoned post station; it is still in business, and there are even quite a few guests. More importantly, this is the only place within a radius of dozens of kilometers that has a telephone line.

Hal asked the three to stay here and wait for him. He has to rely on his Green Lantern ability to search the mountains and plains for where Oliver is now, and then have the three come over after finding him.

Because the infrastructure is truly too backward, "communication mainly relies on shouting" is not a joke. Upon learning that the New Democratic Army led by Oliver in Guadalajara had relied on manpower and radio for a long time, Bruce and the others felt there was nothing to complain about regarding these accommodation conditions.

Bruce, Clark, and Diana gather in Diana's room. The bed frame there can serve as a table. Clark uses heat vision to roast a few ears of corn for breakfast. Diana asks the post station owner for some clean water. After the three wash up, they start gnawing on the corn around the table.

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"Honestly, the conditions here are indeed a bit beyond my imagination." Clark shakes his head and says: "The only difference between here and a primeval forest is that the resources aren't as rich as in a primeval forest."

Diana purses her lips and says: "You might have some misunderstandings about primeval forests. The Amazon has electricity and also tap water pipes. We maintain the style of primitive life just because we are used to doing so, and this brings us tourism revenue."

"It's not that the Amazon doesn't have the ability to modernize; it's just that modernization is useless. We are not a resource-based country, and we can't engage in industry. Most of the economy relies on tourism."

"If we were to make it like most cities in this world, then no one would come to travel. Tourists just like to experience the life of primitive people, so we maintain this life. But this place is clearly not like that."

"Even in the more prosperous cities in Mexico, there are quite a few slums without water and electricity, let alone this kind of rural area deep in the mountains and forests. Not to mention whether they have the money to build, just a few months ago, gangs were rampant here and drug lords were overflowing. In a situation where actual control cannot be achieved, construction is just empty talk."

Bruce says while gnawing on corn. He chews the corn kernels in his mouth and looks down at the corn cob in his hand with some surprise. The taste of the corn exceeds his imagination; it's actually quite delicious.

Clark shakes the corn in his hand and says: "Our family has also planted this variety of corn. It is especially suitable for boiling and gnawing directly, or brushing with some sauce to make roasted corn. But the corn grown here is better than my family's. Mexico is indeed worthy of being the country of corn."

Diana nods, clearly agreeing with what Clark said, but soon, a trace of worry appears on her face, and she says:

"If you don't clear the gangs out, you can't actually control these areas, and you can't build. But the more you can't build, the more backward this place is. It can't provide an economy, and without an economy, there is no money. The less money there is, the less you can drive the gangs out, and the more you have to rely on the drug economy. This is simply a death loop."

"Although Oliver has already opened up some situations, how many are there in a region like Latin America? It is truly a long and arduous road."

The three people are gnawing on corn while chatting about the current situation in Latin America. Soon, a green portal appears in the room. Hal walks out of the portal with Oliver. Oliver's current appearance makes people somewhat unable to recognize him.

When Oliver was stranded on the desert island, he indeed looked very disheveled and haggard. The years of surviving on the desert island had washed away the pampered nature of a rich kid, but the experience in Mexico during this period seems to have reshaped his personality.

Oliver is wearing a dark brown short-sleeved shirt that Mexicans like to wear, with a vest draped over his shoulders, and a somewhat faded pirated Yankees baseball cap on his head.

He has lost a lot of weight, and his whole person seems to be left with only a skeleton. His eyes are also deeply sunken in their sockets, and he is tanned somewhat dark. He looks like he has aged ten years, but at the same time, a kind of astonishing brilliance radiates from his eyes.

When Oliver and Bruce see each other, both are stunned.

Bruce's appearance has also changed somewhat. He went to the slums of Gotham and lost a lot of weight, although he later strengthened his muscles through nutritional supplementation and fitness, it is still different from when they first met.

Oliver has become more spirited, but a trace of relaxation and laziness has appeared on Bruce's body. The changes in the two seem to be going in opposite directions, but it is more like they are arriving at the same destination by different routes.

These two American playboys, famous young masters, after experiencing twists and turns of hardship, when seeing each other again, actually read a hint of the charm of "the human path is the vicissitudes of life" from the mutual appreciation in each other's eyes.

Oliver and Bruce say nothing, but it seems they have said everything. The two walk up and hug each other. Oliver glances at Clark and Diana, clearly Hal has already briefed him.

Several people walk into the portal together. When they appear again, Bruce finds himself in a village. The village is very small, and one can see from south to north at a glance, but it is quite neat and orderly.

The villagers coming and going basically have dark skin, wear dark short-sleeved shirts or plaid shirts, and wear sun hats on their heads. Their clothes are not new and are somewhat dusty. The eyes they use to size up outsiders also appear somewhat unfriendly, but everyone has things to do in their hands. They just glance at Bruce and the others hurriedly and then leave.

Oliver points to the south of the village and says: "That is a tributary of the Ameca River. This is a camp we recently opened up, borrowing a corner on the edge of a small village that was originally here. It is also the hometown of one of our members."

After saying this, he looks around and shouts a few words in the local dialect toward the village entrance. A lean young man runs over hurriedly.

He is a Latino with brown skin, so thin that his skin is wrapped around his bones, so his head looks very big. However, from the tight muscle lines on his arms, it can be seen that he should have been engaged in physical labor for a long time. There are quite a few traces of wind and sun on his face, but from his facial features, it can still be seen that he is not old.

The magical thing about the Latino appearance is that when he doesn't smile, he makes people feel very fierce, but once he smiles, he carries the unique enthusiasm and boldness of Latin America.

Oliver pats the young man on the back and says: "This is Gonzalez. Well, there are probably about six Gonzalezes in the whole village. This surname is too common here. You can just call him Little Pu."

The young Mexican boy reveals a shy smile and shakes hands with Bruce. He says in not-so-proficient English: "Welcome to Vicara. This is our new base."

Oliver continues his words and says: "Vicara Village is one of the 26 villages in this land we currently actually control. Although it is not the largest, its geographical location is the best, and there is the most farmland around."

"I have designated a large piece of land near the Ameca River on the west side of the village as an experimental field. More than half of the area there was previously controlled by the Guadalajara gangs, planting poppies for them, and I now intend to switch to planting food."

Oliver says while leading several people to visit the village. He lowers the brim of his hat and says: "We are actually not short of food now, but we must plant this land well because we want to demonstrate to everyone that it is not only by listening to the gangs and planting poppies that one can make money to support oneself; planting food can also do the same."

Oliver stops his footsteps, turns back to look at several people, and says: "Actually, quite a few people who work with me don't believe this point so much. For a long time, the Mexican government has no longer supported agriculture, and their tug-of-war with gangs has damaged the interests of quite a few farmers, making them lose both people and land."

"Now I propose to replant food. They suspect whether I will follow the old path of the Mexican government. We must produce effective plans. Not only must we plant, but we must also plant well. Not only must we produce, but we must also be able to sell."

Oliver spreads his hands and says: "Just killing drug lords or occupying their land is useless. Clearing the drug industry is not difficult; the difficulty is how to find new industries to replace it."

"Only by having a brand-new industry that is better than drug manufacturing and trafficking take root in this land can the problem of the breeding of evil be solved from the root."

"I pulled the poppies on this land up by the roots, making the land restore its ancient appearance. But if we can't plant new seeds as soon as possible and let the people here fill their stomachs with more long-term and sustainable labor, then the flower of evil will never truly disappear."

Accompanying Oliver's words, Bruce looks into the distance.

The high and distant blue sky is intertwined with purple, clear and bright like a gemstone. The golden morning light shines through the clouds, silhouetting the giant trees and cacti. The primitive style of this ancient land needs no embellishment; it is breathtakingly beautiful.

Farmers carrying farm tools set off one after another. Taking advantage of the faint morning light, their footsteps tread across the ridges of the fields. Their rough hands pass through the wind in the fields, grasping a thread, holding onto their simple wish to create a better life through labor, as if holding onto a cloud.

There is no land in this world that is evil, Bruce thinks. The land unconditionally nourishes every seed and the person who plants the seed. Planting whatever seed yields whatever fruit is one of the few fair things in the world.

The so-called cursed land is just the unwilling slander of those evils that have been cleared out. The land hates no one and always welcomes the next spring full of hope.

Bruce, standing on the ridge of the field looking at the fields, understands when he feels that hint of expectation in his heart: spring has truly come.