Chapter 2819: Mayflies Shaking a Tree (Part 2)

Little Bruce looked at Schiller and asked with some disbelief, "Save Cat Getan? Don't be ridiculous. If they could unite to save Cat Getan, would Cat Getan be in the state it is now?"

"Yes, if what you say is true, then Cat Getan is on the verge of destruction. But for so many years, hasn't this city been on the edge of destruction every single second? Why haven't I seen them collecting artifacts from all over the world and working together to solve the root of the darkness?"

"Secondly, this is also absurd. Do you think Jerome could endure working with his brother to save Cat Getan? How could that lunatic possibly tolerate that?! Even if he could endure it for a moment, the moment the plan was completed, he would definitely be the first to pounce and snap Jeremiah's neck. He is the most vicious lunatic I have ever seen!"

"Then, there is the point I personally don't understand the most. This is 20 years, not 200 years. Aside from the fact that my parents' accidental deaths might need future generations to resolve, 20 years can't even be called two generations, right? Is it necessary to use an ancient method like a diary to pass on information?"

Little Bruce leaned forward, looked into Schiller's eyes, and said, "Not to mention anyone else, Falcone is at least still alive, right?"

"With this Cat Getan mafia godfather around, and the four major families united, they have plenty of money and energy to hire people to search for these metals. Even if they had to use human lives to fill the gap, 20 years would be enough for them to collect a ton each. Why must they use their own family members?"

"Think about it carefully. 20 years ago, Falcone was in his prime. Cat Getan was both his cash cow and his money pit. He isn't some superhero; he doesn't care if Cat Getan is controlled or not. He only wants to enjoy his glory, wealth, and immense power here. He doesn't care about the life or death of anyone here."

"Then how could he possibly stand on the same front as Thomas and Martha? Even if we take a step back, if another evil god came to control Cat Getan, wouldn't Falcone worry that this new god would support someone else to take his place? He would be scared to death and would do everything in his power to protect his current status, preventing any signs of overthrowing him."

"As for my parents' motives, they are even more suspicious. Not to mention that I don't think they would accept becoming monsters given how conservative they are, they are both shrewd business people. How could they not see that their deal with Nyarlathotep was a total loss?"

"If it really were Thomas, he would never agree to become a thrall of an evil god. Not just because of justice, but because of the nature of a businessman. They are good at sitting on the fence, watching the wind blow, and playing both sides. Once they completely join one side, it means completely offending the other side. This is not what any businessman wants."

"Not to mention having to bring Martha and me along. Businessmen have always emphasized not putting all their eggs in one basket. Our whole family doesn't even take the same plane when traveling; it's best to split into three planes just because we're worried about being wiped out if something happens. How could we possibly throw the whole family toward one side?"

When Little Bruce said these words, he had already stood up. He walked to the bedroom, saw the bottle of red wine, shook his head, and said, "I think you must have had too much to drink last night and had a nightmare."

Then he hesitated for a moment and continued, "Alright, I know I didn't leave a good impression when I first met you, but you can't just use that to label me as the son of an evil god, and even say I was raised by two evil gods. That is just too outrageous."

"Indeed, I am using the power of an evil god now, and you might suspect that my sanity has been polluted. I also can't produce evidence to prove that I definitely haven't been polluted, but logically speaking, cooperating with me is more beneficial to Nyarlathotep than completely controlling me."

"You also know that there is more than one Batman in the universe, and Batman is a very important existence. Although I don't know much about this, I also know that it seems every Batman is related to the survival of a universe."

"Nyarlathotep is not the kind of god who needs to devour a universe to gain power; you know this better than I do. Therefore, controlling a mindless puppet and completely polluting this world would only cut off his possibility of watching the show, and might even provoke those angels. That is hardly a profitable deal."

"But if he lends me power and cooperates with me, sooner or later I can go to other universes, meet many different Batmen, understand their stories, and even fight side-by-side with them. To Nyarlathotep, that is what holds meaning. Otherwise, why would he linger here and not leave?"

"Fine, let me elaborate further. Nyarlathotep greatly appreciates Batman's suffering. I don't know if he's some unique type of pervert or what, but it seems he can derive extreme satisfaction and joy from it. For a very long time, he seems to have been trying to probe the deepest black tides of my heart. He looks very interested and wants more."

"That is the condition of our transaction: I take him to see more Batmen, and he lends me power to make my hometown a better place."

Bruce spread his hands helplessly and said, "He also told me that Jerome became so powerful because I became stronger. It seems the strength of Batman and the Joker is in a dynamic equilibrium. I asked him if there was a way to deal with it, but he was just happy to see it happen, or even gloating."

"I know he's unreliable, which is why I came to find you. Even if we can't completely eliminate him, we must at least teach him a lesson and make him behave. I still have serious business to attend to; the pollution in the commercial district has been mostly cleared, and if he hadn't interfered, the purification work of the Cat Getan River would have been finished."

Shiler felt a headache. This was not a metaphorical description of an emotion, but a description of a medical symptom; he felt his head throbbing with pain.

Shiler glanced toward Bruce, and in a daze, he saw dense, writhing tentacles filling the entire room. Countless darkness surged in the room, and dense patterns squeezed back and forth before his eyes.

Bruce, who was checking the alarm clock thrown on the bed, seemed to sense something. After realizing what was happening, he was horrified. The tentacles vanished in a flash. He rushed to Shiler's side and said, "Are you crazy?! You cannot look directly at the power of an Outer God! That will cause your mind to collapse!"

With a *snap*, Shiler fainted.

Bruce gasped and shouted toward the door, "Call an ambulance! Call an ambulance quickly! Someone has fainted!!!!"

The stretcher was quickly carried out of the hotel and loaded into the ambulance. In the alley across from the Wei En Hotel, a figure walked out, looking at the departing ambulance with a sinister expression, and said, "This is the helper that guy invited? What kind of act is this?"

When Shiler woke up, he only felt dizzy and weak. He stared at the ceiling in a daze.

A figure reached out and waved in front of him. Shiler thought it was young Bruce, but when he turned his head, he saw a smiling face.

Shiler discovered that his two hands were tied, and then he realized that he was not lying in a hospital at all, but on an operating table.

Under the shadowless lamp, the one smiling at him was none other than Jerome.

Shiler sighed and said, "Why did you bring me here?"

"I just wanted to ask you, what is your relationship with that octopus? Why did he ask you to help, and how did you end up... uh, in this pathetic state?"

"That's a long story." Shiler blinked, struggling to recover a bit of his sanity. He turned his head to look at Jerome and asked in a somewhat hoarse voice, "Where is your brother?"

Shiler took a knife directly to the shoulder. Jerome grinned, revealing his teeth, and said, "Why bring him up to me?"

Shiler seemed to be lost in thought and did not reply. The pain did not bring him back to his senses, as if his consciousness had completely detached.

He was indeed thinking about some very important matters.

He drank Nyarlathotep's wine, Nyarlathotep let him leave, so everything returned to the right track. He met young Bruce, who was asking for his help, and was kidnapped by the Joker at the first opportunity. Everything was so real and logical.

The doubts raised by young Bruce were very valid. When Shiler had time to think, he also discovered that the plan of Thomas and Martha not only had problems with the chemical operations, but the sociological problems were even greater.

It was unlikely that the other three major families and Falcone would accompany the Wei En family in doing such a thing, because it cost them too much and they gained too little; it was entirely making wedding clothes for the Waynes.

Thomas's logic was also a bit ridiculous. Wouldn't becoming an Outer God's thrall directly eliminate any possibility of negotiating terms? What is the difference between being a puppet and an accidental death?

So, was that just a nightmare?

He came to the hotel, drank the wine, had a bizarre nightmare, woke up, and returned to the real world, ready to complete his true mission.

If only it were that simple.

But now, this world made Shiler feel even more eerie, revealing terror everywhere, with things wrong everywhere, yet he couldn't grasp even a single clue.

The suddenly appearing familiar guest, the red-haired receptionist who flickered in his peripheral vision, the inexplicable darkness summoned by lighting a candle—everything was wrong, but he couldn't grasp anything.

"Where exactly am I?"

Shiler muttered to himself while looking at the ceiling.

"What the hell, it turns out to be a lunatic!" Jerome showed a look of disgust.

"Let me go! Let me go!!!" Shiler suddenly began to roar. He struggled desperately on the operating table, not even caring about the knife stuck in his shoulder. Jerome wanted to pull the knife out and hold it against his neck, but Shiler struggled too violently, and Jerome couldn't even reach over.

*Bang! Clatter!!! *

Shiler pulled the operating table over directly. The guardrail of the operating table was snapped off, and the rope naturally became useless. After one of Shiler's hands was freed, he untied the rope on his other hand. Jerome pounced on him but was kicked over by Shiler. Shiler, however, ignored him completely and rushed out the door like a madman.

Halfway there, he pulled out the knife stuck in his shoulder and stuffed the small blade into his pocket. Only after rushing out did he realize this was the basement of a building in an alley.

Shiler rushed directly to the roadside, smashed the car window, twisted the door handle, sat in, and sped all the way to the hotel.

Shiler rushed into the elevator at top speed. With a *click*, the elevator lights went out. Shiler saw his own dark reflection in the mirror, covered in blood, pale-faced, looking like an evil ghost crawled out of hell.

"Nyarlathotep, I know you're here!" Shiler looked up at the ceiling. In the reflection cast from top to bottom, Shiler, standing on the blue elevator carpet, looked like he was standing in a vast, ethereal starry sky, appearing infinitely small.

With a *ding*, the elevator arrived. Shiler rushed into the corridor on the 19th floor, opened the door with his key card, and after rushing into the room, he began to look around and whispered.

"If this is a dream, where would I be right now?"

"On the hotel bed? In the elevator? In the restaurant? Or..."

Suddenly, Shiler turned his head to look at the wall clock in the living room. The minute hand turned, and it was exactly midnight.

A gust of wind blew in from the hotel window. Shiler instinctively blocked it with his arm. When he lowered his arm, a hotel building came rushing in from outside the window.

Shiler looked toward the opposite window and saw a figure push the door open and walk into the hotel living room.

The figure picked up the TV remote. The TV was playing a midnight drama. After the light from the TV illuminated the room, Shiler saw the figure's face clearly—it was himself.