Chapter 3743: Crisis in the Dark City (Part 17)

Cat Getan started raining again. The rain washed the metal armor until it was brighter. The dark clouds were reflected in the puddles, and the puddles were reflected on the leg armor. That streak of blood flowed along the reflection, just like the figure lying on the ground, telling its story in a low voice. Those tragic scenes flowed into Arkham Batman's ears.

Everything started with a wrong debate.

Luthor let all ordinary people decide the life and death of him and Superman. He bestowed upon them a strange energy that could follow their inner decisions to activate the equipment under the two's feet. If people believed in Luthor more, the equipment would kill Superman; if people believed in Superman more, the equipment would kill Luthor.

Superman came, and Superman died.

These were the two most significant wrong decisions Superman made.

Batman chose to believe in the public and wanted to explain to them. He opened the doors of the Hall of Justice. This was the most wrong decision he made, because the crazy public tore him into pieces directly.

Batman didn't die. He spent a long time standing up again, defeated Darkseid to obtain the Omega Effect, and used the Anti-Life Equation to rule the entire Earth, making those people who betrayed him fall into chaos and war, as if it were their deserved punishment.

But suddenly one day, a Batman who was constantly laughing found him and told him: The evil and madness in the hearts of those people didn't appear out of thin air. They were soaked in a dark jar and rotted from the roots. The same tragedy played out one after another in different universes.

"This is simply unfair..." Arkham Batman heard Omega Batman say.

Arkham Batman's heart was far less hard as steel than his appearance. He knew very little about the past of all other Batmen. When he heard about this tragic encounter, he couldn't help but be dazed for a moment.

Suddenly, a red light flashed. Intense pain spread from his chest, and Arkham Batman was sent flying. When he came to his senses, the smoke rising from the armor on his chest was intertwined with the rain lines. The smell of burnt flesh drifted over, and when he looked forward again, the figure of Omega Batman was long gone from the ground.

"Damn it, careless." He said in a low voice, then slowly stood up from the ground. The opponent didn't seem to have much strength left either; that ray was far less powerful than the first one. Even so, it still sliced open his armor, leaving a deep-to-the-bone wound on his chest.

Arkham Batman took a deep breath, took out a healing potion, and injected it into his arm, slowly walking toward the Batmobile. Although he hadn't thought it through in detail, he knew his view on the Main Universe Batman had wavered.

As Batman, he didn't want anyone to suffer such a disaster. But precisely because he was smart enough, he understood: Time is like flowing water, irreversible. Once certain scars are left, they can never be erased. Having experienced such a cruel disaster, it is very difficult for these Batmen to change back into Dark Knights.

If this is the case, then perhaps what they saved with all their might was just a scarred body and a more broken soul. Without will and belief, all that is left for these Batmen is pain. Death might not be a form of relief for them.

Sitting back in the Batmobile, Arkham Batman sighed deeply. He started the car and drove along, but he didn't actually know who he was looking for.

Suddenly, the crows on the cathedral were startled in flocks. Arkham Batman saw a battle erupting there; it should be that new Dark Batmen had rushed over to help. And that Batman who dressed like a black magician also seized the opportunity to summon many monsters. The city became even more chaotic.

When the Batmobile drove by, Arkham Batman suddenly smelled a trace of blood in the humid air. He stepped on the brake, the car speed slowed down, and he just happened to see Shiler walking out of a building, standing under the eaves of the porch, seriously counting bullets. Blood flowed down the steps faster than him.

The Batmobile stopped in front of the door, Arkham Batman saw Shiler glance at him, put the bullets he was counting back into his pocket, put on his hat, walked to the Batmobile, bent down, and poked his head in front of the car window, saying: "Give me a ride?"

When the car door opened and Shiler sat in the passenger seat, he also brought the dampness and blood smell from the rain. Before Arkham Batman could say anything, Shiler twitched his nose, looked at him with some surprise, and said: "You're injured?"

"Why couldn't it be me who solved that guy?"

"You have a burnt smell on you. If it wasn't hit by a laser, could it be that you would give him a decent funeral with fire in this kind of weather?"

"I wouldn't," Arkham Batman said. "I thought carefully about what you said, and felt it wasn't without reason."

"I haven't said anything to you," Shiler turned his head back and said. "To be precise, I haven't discussed you. I was just talking about myself. You shouldn't be so arrogant as to think that every sentence I say is commenting on or implying you, right?"

Arkham Batman seemed to have really reflected on it seriously, and then said: "People who talk to me usually do this."

"I'm usually not very usual. You can go talk to your old friend about this."

"What matter?"

"Whether to kill or not, and so on," Shiler looked quite perfunctory. "And whether to save these poor Batmen, what will happen if you save them, and what will happen if you don't."

"You haven't considered these?"

"I have no need to consider these. My mission is to save the Batman of this universe, and then reorganize Cat Getan's order. Matters outside of this are not within my consideration."

"Even if there might be adverse long-term effects, you would choose to do it first and talk later?"

"To me, how many Batmen I saved and how many Batmen I killed won't have any long-term effects. Perhaps no one has ever told you this, because the world does revolve around Batman. But I don't. How you look at me, how you treat me, I don't care at all."

"Perhaps this is normal," Arkham Batman said. "And other thoughts revolving around me have a tendency to over-focus, sometimes making us fall into confusion ourselves."

"Do you have bullets?" Shiler suddenly asked.

"What model?"

"G19."

Arkham Batman raised his eyebrows with some surprise, saying: "I thought it would be M18. Why use a compact model?"

"No safety," Shiler said.

Arkham Batman was speechless for a moment. It really was a very simple and unadorned reason; no wonder it was so fast when shooting at The Batman Who Laughs—it turns out there was no need to turn off the safety.

Arkham Batman pressed the button on the car, the equipment storage under the seat was opened. He casually took a box of bullets and threw it to Shiler; most Glock pistols use 9x19mm Parabellum pistol bullets.

Shiler opened the bullet box, loaded the bullets into the magazine one by one, and then threw the extra reloaded bullets back into the box.

"You reloaded them yourself?" Arkham Batman glanced while driving, saying, "Good craftsmanship."

"Overpraised." Shiler loaded the pistol and put it back in his pocket, not seeming to worry about an accidental discharge at all. However, this pistol has a long trigger pull, so it is indeed not easy to misfire, very suitable for quick reaction.

"Have you been an agent?"

Shiler nodded.

"A thorn in the side of criminals."

"A thorn in the side of the political enemies of the top bosses."

Arkham Batman was speechless again. The atmosphere in the car fell silent. After a while, Arkham Batman said: "How do you plan to reorganize Cat Getan's order?"

"I'm considering it," Shiler said. "There are many methods, but none are very perfect. I hope to get a good mission evaluation, so it still depends on the situation."

"Alright. I plan to look for those Dark Batmen who rushed over in the city, where do you plan to get off?"

"Right here," Shiler glanced out the window.

Arkham Batman subconsciously also looked out the window, because he felt Shiler didn't choose this place without a reason; he wanted to know what was here. Just at the moment his attention was focused on the scenery outside the window, he felt a pain in his chest.

Shiler took a needle and injected it into the skin near his chest. The pain began to disappear gradually, and his vision suddenly became blurred.

"High-concentration morphine," in a trance, Arkham Batman heard Shiler say. "I don't know why you would think I would chat with you for so long for no reason. Lend me the car."

Arkham Batman naturally resisted, but the concentration of the thing Shiler injected him with was hellishly high, and the healing potion he had injected into himself earlier also had the effect of accelerating blood circulation. This was simply a one-second head rush; his perception was instantly blurred, and he fell into the hallucinations brought by the drug.

He felt himself being dragged out of the car, but because he couldn't distinguish directions and his brain had difficulty controlling his limbs correctly, his reaction was a step slow. When the roar of the Batmobile's engine sounded, Arkham Batman had just crawled up from the ground.

Swaying in the rain, he reached out the back of his hand to wipe the raindrops dripping from his chin, watching the Batmobile drive away. He reached out to press the remote button on his gauntlet, but his vision was too blurred, and he failed to recall the Batmobile.

Arkham Batman felt that he had already developed symptoms of respiratory depression. He had to open the communication channel and said to the Main Universe Batman: "Is there a morphine antagonist?"

"... What's wrong?" The Main Universe Batman, who was fighting The Batman Who Laughs, couldn't help but be stunned. He instinctively said, "Is there also a Dark Batman who uses morphine as a weapon?"

"No, but there is a despicable agent who uses morphine as a weapon."

The Main Universe Batman was silent for a few seconds. He heard that Arkham Batman's state was not good, and it was highly likely to be morphine poisoning. After hanging up the communication, he said to Cl-Bat: "You hold them off, I'm going to save someone."

After saying this, Batman fired a grappling hook to shatter the stained glass of the cathedral, his figure leaped out, and he located the place where Arkham Batman was at the fastest speed. Upon arrival, he found that the other had already passed out.

The Main Universe Batman took out atropine and injected it into Arkham Batman. Not long after, the other woke up and slowly stood up from the ground.

"I'm just a little curious," The Main Universe Batman looked at Arkham Batman and said, "How high a concentration of morphine must it be to knock you down here directly."

"I'm more concerned about why he carries such a high concentration of morphine with him," Arkham Batman said. "This is far beyond the analgesic dose."

"This is actually very normal," The Main Universe Batman said. "Hallucinations and pain are his weapons. To him, this kind of drug that can both induce hallucinations and bring near-death pain is much more useful than adrenaline."

"Truly crazy," Arkham Batman couldn't help but say.

When they returned to the cathedral together, they saw another Shiler here. Arkham Batman couldn't help but take half a step back.

Shiler sized him up and down, and then said: "He stole your Batmobile?"

Arkham Batman nodded. Shiler sighed and said: "I think it's time to leave." ===== CHAPTER 3744 =====