Chapter 176

My father was a tyrant, a dictator who would not tolerate any questioning; I went to great lengths to meet his demands and became a perfect heir, yet he still distrusted me and told me nothing.

I knew full well that his ability to rule Gotham's underworld for so long wasn't just due to his strength and wisdom—I knew…

He was not the true king of Gotham; another, a mysterious organization, a great organization, controlled it from the shadows.

Batman watched Alberto in silence; the muscles on Alberto's face had completely shifted, as if he were a stranger Batman had never seen before—his tone carried resentment and fury, emotions Batman had never heard in Evans's voice.

"But in Evans's account, the Don was nothing like this."

"Him? What does he know? Yes… he was Carmine's perfect son; Carmine created him only because he thought I wasn't perfect enough…"

"So what really happened to your death?"

Alberto snorted coldly, glanced down at the crack in the church, saw no reaction he desired, then, as if to pass the time, said to Batman: "I accidentally learned that Gotham is a city beyond salvation; those who do not belong here will eventually leave."

"All of this is because of a great organization that secretly controls Gotham, manipulating the city to serve its will."

"The Don? He's merely a dying survivor—he never ruled Gotham. He lost his struggle against this force; only because the mysterious organization spared him could he become the Don."

"During one of our arguments, he accidentally revealed a clue about this organization. I secretly investigated but found nothing—until I inadvertently encountered one of their followers."

"It was a great darkness I had never seen…" Alberto's tone grew feverish; he said, "His wings have always sheltered this city; we shall all bow before Him…"

"So you joined this organization?"

"No, no…" Alberto said nervously, "They wouldn't let me join—I don't understand…"

In his mad mutterings, Batman seemed to see a flock of black owls standing behind him, whispering and laughing at Alberto's ears: "You are the descendant of rebels… you must atone… atone for your bloodline

Alberto knelt again, his body trembling, voice slurred—as if filled with both hatred and terror: "They gave me a knife, a hard, sharp knife, and I used it to stab..."

Alberto's tone grew pained, as if everything he recounted differed from his own memories.

"You wanted to kill your father?" Batman asked.

"No, I didn't... I only wanted to atone. I needed to..."

"You wanted to kill him—but you failed, didn't you?"

Alberto's voice turned bitter and resentful: "Carmine was prepared for me. I acted too late!"

"Then he killed you and created Evans?"

"Not him—it was the..." Alberto paused, struggling to speak: "The priest. They were in league. They knew everything..."

"So it was all a farce. Falcone's eldest son never died—he merely changed his identity."

"But something puzzles me—how could this fool everyone? Your appearances were identical, your ages the same. Someone must have recognized you."

But as soon as he spoke, Batman realized: "That funeral?"

"... es. Carmine invited everyone who had ever seen me to my own funeral—and then they all died, including the father of that little Cobblepot."

"Unrelated to the umbrellas?" Batman muttered to himself.

Alberto sneered: "Looks like you know more than I thought."

"Precisely because of the umbrellas. You think Carmine knew nothing about them? You're wrong—no one understood them better than the Godfather. But he never spoke."

"Carmine sabotaged a batch of umbrella materials, delaying delivery. Then, on a rainy night, he summoned them all—and they died."

"He claimed that fool was my younger brother, raised abroad with our mother. So he replaced me and became the Godfather's youngest son."

Sixiangke

"For a long time, I truly was dead. Only Evans existed."

"He became a devout believer, often going to church to pray—but he didn't know this was Carmine's doing, meant to erase me completely."

"The priest possessed powers beyond human comprehension. I don't know what it was... but he seemed to truly influence the mind."

"Each time Evans contacted him, his personality grew more solid, while Alberto slowly faded away."

"But fortunately..." Alberto smiled. "During this disaster, the church was destroyed. The priest had to leave. Evans hasn't prayed to him in a long time."

"So you came back to life?"

"At first, I couldn't control this body alone—only vague awareness. But I am the true owner of this body. Soon, I could take control while Evans slept."

"I had tasks to complete. To avoid detection, I manipulated Xie Dun."

"But you killed him in the end. Why?"

"He was a selfish fool, short-sighted, obsessed with immediate gain. I planned to use his position to gather Gotham University students at the Easter banquet, then trigger egg explosions—those special eggs were made for them."

"But that idiot principal thought it would damage his reputation. He didn't use the eggs I gave him. So I changed tactics—sold them in grocery stores or gave them to mob bosses."

"Why do this? Just to cause chaos?"

"I was conducting an experiment."

Alberto's answer surprised Batman. Instinctively, he asked: "What was that substance inside the eggs that drove people mad?"

"It was the Immortality Factor."

"Immortality... what?"

"It's something that grants eternal life—makes one never die. Do you understand?"

Batman said nothing, staring at Alberto as if he were an idiot. Alberto sensed it, and, enraged, snapped: "You don't understand!! This is what that great power survives on! I've investigated for years..."

He took a deep breath, then calmed: "My contact with them wasn't useless. I know—they cultivate their deadly assassins using something called 'Wine.'"

"'Wine'? What is that?"

"In their records, this factor behaves like wine—it can drive one mad with intoxication, or grant eternal life."

"They used this factor to create powerful assassins. I believe this is His greatness—His gift and reward to humanity. And I... I will receive this reward..."

"Abandon your bizarre, absurd theories. Nothing in this world grants eternal life."

Alberto grinned wildly, his gaze fixed on the crack in the cathedral's center, where a faint green glow shimmered: "Thank the priest. Thank that fool Evans. I noticed something strange about this church..."

Batman turned his gaze there too: "Don't tell me it's beneath the church."

"After the church was damaged, this precious Wine seeped from the crack. I collected some. Their records say Wine must mature before drinking—but I don't know how long that takes."

"So I had to run an experiment. I diluted it into a spray and put it inside the Easter eggs."

"Unripe Wine drives people mad—but it doesn't matter. I got the answer I needed."

Alberto took a deep breath, knelt, and pressed his face to the crack, staring fixedly at the light within: "All Wine requires fermentation and aging. Tonight, it will mature. If I can obtain the purest Wine, I will become immortal..."

He looked up at the crucifix before him, voice trembling: "Like Jesus, I shall be reborn this night, return to Heaven, and become a god. Those who made me suffer... will pay."

"Stop dreaming," Batman cut in, voice icy. "First, I believe this so-called Wine is a fraud. Second, I won't let you get it."

"You can't stop me!" Alberto saw the green glow brightening under the growing moonlight, a rich wine-like scent rising—like fruit ripening.

He lunged forward wildly, trying to leap into the crack.

A bullet struck his shoulder, the recoil throwing him back; then two shurikens hit his knees, disabling him.

Alberto lay prone, subdued—but Batman stayed cautious, circling the crack to approach from behind.

Just as he neared, he saw a sly, triumphant smile in the shadow of Alberto's hair.

Batman instantly retreated. A violent explosion erupted beneath Alberto—the cathedral floor shattered, the narrow crack blown wide into a gaping hole. Dust billowed as every floorboard vanished.

Batman stood at the edge of the collapse, looking down. Below, the cathedral's basement had become a giant pool, filled with glowing green liquid—smelling like high-proof liquor. Even inhaling a trace made one dizzy.

Batman stepped back, shook his head. A cold wind blew past, and he felt slightly better.

Since the last fire, Batman had fitted his mask with a respirator. He pulled down the visor, covering his nose and mouth, then stepped forward to peer into the green pool.

He saw no sign of Alberto. But he remembered—Alberto had fallen with the collapsing floor. He must have landed in the green pool.

The liquid was too strange. Batman dared not touch it. He had no proper retrieval tools. As he turned to leave and fetch some, he heard a "glug-glug" sound behind him.

He turned. The glowing green pool bubbled—like something beneath was blowing air.

Then, a pale hand emerged from the pool's edge. The cold moonlight of Gotham shone on its back—bones and veins protruding like a mummified corpse preserved for years.

The moon grew brighter. The wind grew lighter. The air around the cathedral froze solid. In that frozen stillness, the crucifix, struck by the blast, collapsed in pieces.

During this long Easter, Jesus did not rise—he died completely.

In his place, a mad resurrection rose—the eternal nightmare of Gotham—

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

————EXTRA NOTES————

Ten thousand characters today! Please vote and tip!

Aha! Didn't see that coming!

(Someone did—but not fully. Hehe.)