Chapter 2814

"Since you know so much, why don't you tell us." Jerome sneered and said: "Anyway, we still have a lot of time now."

"Things have developed to this point, basically there is no room for recovery." Schiller shook his head and said: "I can only be a hindsight. If you had come to find me ten years earlier, it wouldn't have developed to this point."

"Where should I start." Schiller actually showed a worried expression. He said: "I'm not picking on which of your operations is not standardized, but recalling which one is standardized."

"First of all, have you conducted historical research?"

"What?" Cobblepot asked a bit surprised.

"Have you investigated the historical background of this great dark existence? When did he first appear? What did he do when he appeared? Who did he deal with? How many times has he appeared in history, and what impact did he cause? How many believers does he have? Where are they distributed now?"

Very unexpectedly for Schiller, everyone didn't know anything. Jeremiah was slightly better. He at least said something about the Judah tribe, but the relationship between the earlier Bat tribe and the Bird tribe wasn't found either.

Schiller had no choice but to say: "Since you found the Judah tribe, then continue to investigate forward."

"What's the point of this?"

"We need to look for imagery, which is very, very, very important in occultism. It can be said that if this is wrong, then everything behind it is wrong."

"I'll give a simple example." Schiller stretched out a hand and said: "Someone built a door to summon you over, which means someone is needed to open this door. Then considering the success rate, it must be that the more keys built, the better, because the more people holding keys, the greater the chance of the door being opened."

"But assuming there is only one key that matches this door, then is it that the owner who built this door didn't want to improve the success rate? It's nothing more than because he can only build one lock and match one key. If he had the ability to cast a wide net and catch more fish, he would definitely have done so."

"God is not without rules. They also have to follow some kind of power system to do things. They build a door and match a key for their reasons. You haven't figured out who the key is with, so don't dream of using a carrot to poke the lock open."

Schiller sighed deeply, and after relaxing, continued: "What you are doing now is like 1+1 can be calculated as 3, but you intend to do complex functions with such a concept."

"Before starting to poke the keyhole, you didn't determine who the key was at all, and just messed around based on a little bit of memory obtained from the cultists. This is the disadvantage of not studying history."

"In the occult world, your so-called mysterious great dark existence is not a secret. His name is Barbatos, known as the Dragon of Darkness, and is a member of the Dark Council."

"In ancient times, the Bat tribe always worshipped Barbatos, so he is also called the God of Bats. He has always been dormant in the dark universe, wanting to open a road to the light universe, and the key matched by this door he built is the bat, to be precise, Batman."

"Bruce Wayne is Batman, but today you all came, except Batman didn't come. Do you believe it? If you throw everything into the pool now, there won't be any reaction, because the one lying in the pool now is not only not Batman, but not even Spider-Man. The carrier of the key is wrong. It's useless to charge the door lock with more electricity."

"Let's talk about the metal. I won't even say who is the real one between the alarm clock and the thing in Gordon's head. Just the things you took out now, most of the purity is not enough."

"The thing you dug out from Alfred's brain should be N-metal, but it looks like you cut it off from some spaceship. But the spaceship shell uses N-metal alloy. The truly pure N-metal has all been made into weapons. Even if you can't get pure ones, at least refine this thing, right? You really intend to use it as is?"

"And that green Wine God Factor, I don't know if you became Jokers because you have this thing, or if you can only refine this thing because you are Jokers yourselves. Although you refined it this time, this thing doesn't need to be refined. You need to find its source. Refining with the original liquid will destroy its properties."

"And that red metal, I don't even want to talk about it. The name of this thing is Bat-metal. It was refined correctly this time, but unfortunately, it must react with Batman's blood to produce an effect. Without Batman's blood, it's nothing."

"Let's talk about the one in this pool." Schiller looked at the pool where Peter was soaked and said: "This thing should be Amber Gold, which is the kind of metal mixed into Cat Getan's buildings."

"Originally this thing could be used, but you threw so many cultist corpses into it. Now that you think of considering whether my blood will pollute the pool, isn't it a bit late?"

"What you are doing is like adding two more catalysts to a chemical experiment, and then saying ignorantly, I didn't do anything, why did it explode? This thing is a miss by a hair, a loss by a thousand miles."

"I'm really curious, what can you summon after poking the keyhole with a carrot? So don't be stunned, go through the process."

Schiller didn't want to say much either. He sat on the spot hugging his legs and watching the pool. He really wanted to know what this group of chemical geniuses could summon with this calcium-plus-calcium version of the metal ritual.

Anyway, it definitely wouldn't be Barbatos. Barbatos was trapped and couldn't come out. It also wouldn't be the Laughing One. The Laughing One was editing a movie and didn't have time to come.

The biggest possibility was Nyarlathotep. After all, Nyarlathotep intervened, just waiting to see the panicked expressions of this group of humans. But if Nyarlathotep was really summoned by this thing, Schiller would definitely be the first to mock him to his face.

This was done by Barbatos's followers, and it didn't succeed, but messed up. If Nyarlathotep really came, Schiller decided to give him a nickname called 'Dog Leftover'.

The others looked at each other, and indeed there was no better way. This was the planning of two generations of their twenty years. It was impossible not to do it just because of a few words from some people.

What made Schiller even more dumbfounded was that because they couldn't decide which metal was the last Promethium metal, they were prepared to throw both in.

Schiller hurriedly hid further away. If you want to die, don't splash blood on me.

They finally chose to throw all the metals into the pool.

You really shouldn't say, maybe stupid people have stupid luck. After all the metals were thrown into the pool, the pool started to emit intense light.

The top of the head was no longer the ceiling of the dark temple, but a starry sky gradually started to appear. Looking at that somewhat familiar starry sky, Schiller suddenly had a bad premonition.

Thick fog filled the room.

At the moment of seeing the endless thick fog appear, Schiller had only one thought: 'Oh no, the Dog Leftover is actually me!'

Endless gray mist appeared in the starry sky, in which surged countless terrifying hallucinations that would make people collapse just by looking at them. Dense eyes appeared and disappeared. Just by looking at them, everyone's eyes started to shed blood and tears.

They screamed one after another and knelt on the ground.

The thick fog didn't respond, and only after a long time did it let out an 'Hmm???' filled with thick confusion.

Very good, from now on, the nickname of the Mist of Namelessness will be 'Dog Leftover'. Schiller thought with a mix of crying and laughing in his heart, how could the Gray Mist be summoned over??!

At this time, Schiller heard the familiar voice of the Gray Mist.

"No, what's the matter? I was eating in the animal universe."

"I also want to ask you what's going on? Why did you respond to the summons?" Schiller asked.

"Because he is about to die." Although the Gray Mist didn't have a face, Schiller could obviously perceive his gaze falling on Peter in the pool. He said: "Didn't you say that if this kid is about to die, let me come over and fish him back? How did he die?"

"I said it was a chemical experiment accident, do you believe it?"

"Don't joke, he himself is a chemist."

"Then I have to introduce this MIT high-achiever to you. Oh, he studied physics. No wonder."

"Then what to do now?" The Gray Mist asked: "I feel a very troublesome guy is coming here."

"Nyarlathotep?"

"That black guy can't be called troublesome, just a bit annoying. I'm referring to a guy who is very troublesome for you."

"Wouldn't it be Bruce? He has been completely controlled by Nyarlathotep?"

"It's Bruce, but..."

Before the Gray Mist finished speaking, suddenly a bright light that could blind people shone in the center of the temple, knocking everyone over. In the haze, everyone only saw countless pure white wings.

"Who... is summoning the great Barbatos... wait, why is it so bright?! Damn, wore the wrong skin! Wait for me..."

With a 'swish', the bright light disappeared, as if it had never appeared. After a few seconds, incomparably rich dark power filled the entire room.

"Who... is summoning the great Barbatos..."

Schiller looked up. Upon seeing a pair of bat wings, he didn't want to look up anymore, but still saw those blue eyes as expected.

Fortunately, this guy still knew how to cover up, forming a coal ball with dark power, not showing his face, otherwise he would have been exposed again.

Those blue eyes turned over.

Upon seeing Schiller, he was obviously stunned for a moment. Schiller didn't feel that he had seen through his disguise, but Sothip wasn't an ordinary person either.

Schiller cleared his throat and said: "I summoned it."

"What is your business..."

"Help me kill the Evil God in this city."

"Sorry, can't kill."

"Then drive him away."

"This is possible, name your price."

"Not driving him away for a moment, but letting him never come over again."

"This also can't be done, his offspring is here."

Schiller understood. Little Bruce indeed had Nyarlathotep's bloodline. This was not easy to handle. People were biological father and son; wanting to completely cut it off was impossible.

"Then pack them up and throw them out."

"Too heavy, can't throw out."

Schiller knew he was referring to the fact that little Bruce himself was a Gothamite, and also Batman. You can't throw a Batman out of his original universe and not let him come back. This couldn't be done.

Schiller took out Martha and Thomas's diary from his bosom, threw it into the dark energy, and then said: "Then take these to him. After he reads them, he will understand."

The black mist gradually dissipated, but the gray mist still stayed in place. The gray mist kept rubbing against Schiller, humming and wanting to drink the wine in the pool.

"You fish him out first." Schiller lowered his voice and then said: "This thing is indeed a good thing. It was worth me delaying for such a long time. Let him soak for a while longer."

The Gray Mist went to fish Peter out, then drank all the liquid in the pool in one go, let out a satisfied burp, and disappeared contentedly.

Peter climbed up from the ground somewhat blankly. The moment he moved his legs, he hit the ceiling.

"What's going on? Why am I again..." Peter, who fell to the ground, covered his head dizzyingly.

"Congratulations, Spider-Man. I mean, you might have to change your name to Metal-Man now." Schiller looked at Peter and said: "You might have to adapt to your superpowers again."