Chapter 2817

"Black Pharaoh..."

Schiller called out the name of this avatar. He was one of the faces of the God of a Thousand Faces. Nyarlathotep had countless avatars, each of which had stirred up trouble in history or the occult world. The Black Pharaoh was one of the most common and unpredictable ones.

"Welcome to your arrival, Schiller." His voice made people feel that they were a duckweed floating on the River of Forgetfulness, ready to fall into the abyss of oblivion at any time.

"You can talk?!!!" Schiller raised his tone and said somewhat shocked.

The other party seemed not to have expected that he would have this reaction. Schiller rubbed his temples and said: "Then why are you playing riddles?! We can at least be considered half-colleagues. Can't you just say it directly if you have something???"

"Nothing." The Black Pharaoh said: "Looking for you to reminisce."

"Alright, then let's talk about what on earth is going on." Schiller didn't look like he wanted to reminisce. He went straight to the theme and then said: "Why on earth did you seduce Thomas back then? Why are you eyeing little Bruce now?"

"To reminisce with you." The Black Pharaoh answered.

Schiller was simply shocked by the shamelessness of the monster in front of him. He carefully thought about this series of events and determined that he was indeed just an innocent person who was asked for help, and absolutely not some mastermind, so he said reasonably and confidently: "Listen to yourself, does this sound like it???"

"I want to invite you to drink." The Black Pharaoh said on his own: "But it needs to be considered in a way. I think this will be a good choice."

Schiller felt very confused. He had no choice but to say: "You mean you tossing little Bruce around was to get me over??? Then why didn't you find me directly?"

"You are here now."

Schiller was also speechless. He had no choice but to say: "Alright, if this is your way of finding people, where is little Bruce now?"

The Black Pharaoh slowly turned around and looked back. A starry sky appeared behind his throne. Schiller saw a huge bat appear there, with two heads between its wings.

"You didn't turn him into this bat monster, did you?!"

"This is L'nog'k." The Black Pharaoh answered calmly: "One of my avatars. People call him 'Father of Bats'."

"You'd better not be telling some cold joke." Schiller rushed up the steps in three steps and two, came to the bat monster, and the moment he saw those eyes, he realized that this wasn't Nyarlathotep, at least not an avatar of some monster. This thing had humanity.

Schiller suddenly had a bad premonition. He tried calling out: "Thomas Wei En?"

One of the heads turned toward him and nodded at him. The other head also turned toward him, with eyes more gentle and calm.

Schiller gasped and said: "You wouldn't be the Wei En couple, would you???"

He turned his head sharply to look at the Black Pharaoh, just wanting to ask him why he turned the Wei En couple into this, and then suddenly remembered that the name "L'nog'k" mentioned by the Black Pharaoh was a bit familiar, seemingly not something he made up on the spot.

Schiller recalled all the knowledge about Nyarlathotep and realized that he indeed had such an avatar, and this avatar was called "Father of Bats". The creation era of this thing was much earlier than DC comics.

"But you can't just because people are called Father of Bats, you really get a Father of Bats over. This is too absurd!"

"At least they are still alive." The Black Pharaoh's unhurried tone always made people angry. It seemed he was the kind of god who liked to watch people get angry.

"Tell me what's going on? Thomas, you are not the kind of person who would be seduced by the Evil God and agree to their conditions." Schiller looked at one of the bat's heads and said.

"Things are just like this." Thomas's voice came, "If you ask me why I want to do this, I also want to ask you, why are we destined to die?"

Schiller opened his mouth, but couldn't give an answer. He knew that even if he told Thomas and Martha now that all this was the work of comic editors, it wouldn't make sense, because now he was facing the souls of two living people, Thomas and Martha, not some comic editors who didn't know if they existed.

You have no way to tell any living person that they must die because some other ethereal existence has set a destined fate for them. No one can accept such a statement.

Hearing Thomas's question, Schiller could be considered to have understood. The Wei En couple wasn't forced at all. They voluntarily became the followers of another Outer God, just to get rid of the fate of being controlled by the DC universe.

Then another question came. Why did Nyarlathotep help them?

Schiller couldn't help but turn his head to look at the Black Pharaoh.

"I want to invite you to have a drink."

"I didn't know you were still a repeater." Schiller walked down the steps quickly, without even looking at the Black Pharaoh standing in the center of the steps, and said: "You send me back first. That universe still has a bunch of messes to clean up."

The Black Pharaoh stared at him silently. Schiller had no choice but to look back at him. The two stared at each other for a while before the Black Pharaoh said: "The cause of all this is you, and the end of all this also comes from you."

"You wouldn't want to pin the blame on me, would you? If the universe administrator finds me because Thomas and Martha didn't die, I won't keep secrets for you." Schiller said.

Schiller heard Thomas and Martha whispering, so he asked again: "What about Bruce?"

"He's fine." Martha said: "He already went back first. He asked me to thank you for coming to help."

"What are your plans for later?" Schiller frowned and asked.

"This is not just our two's business." Thomas said: "The four major families discovered long ago that Cat Getan has stubborn diseases we cannot clear, and we discovered traces of the existence of the Outer Gods in an ancient book. We hope that if this city is destined to be controlled, it will at least not be controlled by those sneaky villains."

Since they said so, what else could Schiller not understand? The cause of everything wasn't Nyarlathotep's invasion, but the darkness of the DC world's origin. It couldn't even be counted as Barbatos, but the destined fate set by the editor for this city.

As long as they still want to sell money by relying on the character of Batman, Cat Getan is destined not to be good. This is a fixed rule that cannot be changed. In this world, there are always people who bet everything just to fight for a breath. It seems Thomas is such a person.

He was very smart. Before little Bruce was born, he noticed the secret behind it. He would rather die standing than live kneeling, or rather, anyway, he was manipulated by the Evil God, he wanted to choose the Evil God himself.

So he summoned Nyarlathotep to fight against the rules destined by this world. Little Bruce using Nyarlathotep's power to clear the influence of Amber Gold was just inheriting his father's business.

However, Schiller also believed that little Bruce didn't know all this at the beginning. His previous trouble by the Evil God wasn't fake. It was just that perhaps later he himself noticed it, otherwise it would be impossible to let the pollution in Cat Getan deteriorate to what it is now.

But now that it has become such a mess, how to solve it? Could it be that Nyarlathotep would really be willing to fight the universe administrator for the request of Thomas and Martha?

Schiller calculated in his heart, thinking that it would be better to imitate the hotel and use two forces to keep the whole city in a state of balance, but in this way, there should also be many casualties. It is estimated that little Bruce himself couldn't accept it.

But if Nyarlathotep's power is removed, Cat Getan will return to its original state. There is no Anatoly here to blow up all the dark origins. It won't be long before it becomes a mess again, and the arrangements of the four major families will be in vain.

But if Nyarlathotep is allowed to completely control this city, the Outer Gods are much more terrifying than Barbatos. Schiller is not sure if little Bruce can grasp this degree. If it really becomes Cat Getan-Mouth, it will be bad.

Thinking about it, Schiller couldn't make up his mind. He felt that he still had to go back and discuss with Batman, Joker, Penguin, and other local Cat Getan natives. Maintaining balance might be the only way.

Schiller turned and walked back, but a tall figure blocked his way. Schiller looked up and said with his last bit of patience: "You move aside, or send me back. I have serious business to do."

It wasn't that he had any prejudice against Nyarlathotep. The key was that the Outer Gods are chaotic. Even if Nyarlathotep is not blind and foolish, he can't understand why humans value order so much. His behavioral logic can be summarized as doing nothing serious all day long.

It doesn't matter whether he does serious business or not. Schiller is very busy. In order to go on this business trip, he didn't stay in the Battleworld to debug his body. Other personality traits' bodies have all been upgraded, but he is still the old version. He must finish this matter quickly so that he can upgrade his body before the Battleworld reopens.

The Black Pharaoh just stood in front of him without saying a word. Schiller didn't dare to have any physical contact either, so he had no choice but to look at this tall figure in front of him helplessly.

But he actually saw helpless emotions on Nyarlathotep's body.

Before Schiller could ask what you are helpless about, the walls of the room started to retreat infinitely. The statues disappeared one by one, and the Black Pharaoh and the avatars transformed by Thomas and Martha also disappeared.

The walls of the room closed like a box, and one piece of furniture after another fell down. In an instant, Schiller returned to room 1905.

When he regained his senses, he couldn't help but think of the address little Bruce gave him. So why is it room 1905? What is special about this room?

Schiller walked into the living room first. All furniture had been restored, the traces on the windows had also disappeared, the monster that could create hallucinations didn't respond, and there was no other hotel by the window anymore. Everything was incredibly calm.

Suddenly, Schiller felt something and looked toward the bedroom.

He gently pushed open the bedroom door, his gaze fell on the bedside table. He walked over in big strides and picked up the bottle of cheap complimentary red wine he had discovered on the bedside table long ago.

"Wine?"

Schiller murmured gently. So Nyarlathotep responded to the summons of Thomas and Martha and created such a series of events just to lure himself to room 1905 and invite himself to have a glass of wine?

It really looks like something an Outer God would do.

Schiller suddenly had a flash of inspiration. He thought, if he had really come to the hotel to put down his luggage like an ordinary person, taken a bath to drive away the fatigue on his body, had a small drink before going to sleep, and sank into a dream, would these things behind really happen?

Schiller came to the wardrobe, changed into pajamas, found a cup from the drawer of the bedside table, poured half a cup of red wine and drank it in one gulp, and fell headlong into the soft pillow and quilt.

No dreams all night.

Ding-a-ling! Ding-a-ling!

Schiller was suddenly awakened by the alarm clock. The morning light spilled into the room through the curtains. Schiller looked toward the bedside with wrinkled eyes. The alarm clock looked a bit familiar. He reached out and pushed the alarm clock to the ground, and the ringing stopped.

But at this time his phone rang again. Schiller answered it without looking at the number. The voice of little Bruce actually came from inside.

"Have you arrived? Jerome has already discovered me. I can't deal with him alone. I'll send a car to pick you up now!"

The phone was hung up. Schiller put down the phone.

Bang, bang, bang! The door was knocked.

Schiller, who got out of bed, moved somewhat slowly. He hadn't slept so soundly for a long time. He rubbed his eyes and lifted his eyelids hard before asking: "Who is it?"

"The toilet in your room is broken. We agreed last night to come and repair it this morning. May I ask if you are free now?"

Schiller opened the door. Standing in front was a man wearing repairman's uniform. He carried tools and walked toward the restroom.

Schiller was about to close the door when he heard a familiar voice say to him.

"How is the wine?"

Schiller lifted his eyes sharply, only seeing the tall black manager smiling at him.