Chapter 477: When Shi Ler Finds a New Streetlight (Part 1)

Arkham Asylum was located in a remote area; when it was first established, the site was chosen primarily due to inadequate security technology, as dangerous patients often escaped, and placing the hospital in a secluded location increased the difficulty of escape.

But after Shi Ler became the chief physician here, he understood one truth: if you want to get rich, first build roads.

Therefore, with the mayor's approval, a main road leading to Arkham Asylum was constructed and had already opened to traffic by the end of last year.

The funding for this road came mainly from voluntary donations by the patients themselves, since the winding muddy paths offered no space for their extended luxury cars or modified sports cars; since the main road opened, they could even come in for hospitalization every weekend.

At this moment, the uniquely shaped Batmobile was speeding along the main road, its engine roar echoing far into the trees lining both sides; in the deep silence of night, it sounded like the mournful cry of a lurking beast.

As Batman raced toward Arkham Asylum with the unconscious Joker slung over his shoulder, inside the hospital, a faint glow flickered briefly down the dark corridor, casting an eerie green reflection on the polished marble floor.

Click. The window suddenly flew open; a cold wind howled in, whistling through the dark corridor like ghostly wails.

Just then, bang! One of the corridor doors burst open, and a bearded giant stepped out, shouting:

"What the hell are you all yelling about? If you want drugs, go to the second floor—stop screaming in the hallway!"

After shouting this, he realized no one was in the corridor. He leaned on the door handle, glanced left and right, and saw the window at the corridor's end had been opened. He spat, muttered curses, and walked over to shut the window.

At that moment, a thin man also stepped out of the door and asked, "What's going on? They've started another game—waiting for you. Come in quick."

"Forget it. Those crazy nurse girls didn't check the windows before clocking out—they were left open, and the wind blew them open. I thought some junkie was screaming in the hallway."

The bearded man clapped his hands and walked back inside, slamming the door shut with a bang; only a sliver of light leaked from beneath the door into the corridor.

Inside the room, several men were playing cards. Normally, during non-activity hours, all patients were required to stay in their rooms, but these few had good relations with the nurses and had been given a pass during night rounds; now they were fully immersed in the game.

Guard Here

But just then, the mournful wind howled again down the corridor. The bearded man angrily tossed his cards down, stood up, and said, "I'm gonna find a hammer and nail that window shut someday..."

He strode to the door and violently flung it open with a bang—but in that instant, he caught a flicker of strange light vanishing around the corridor's corner.

The bearded man glanced at the dark corridor, hesitated, then returned and said to his companions, "Hand me a flashlight—and that shotgun we brought in. Give it to me."

"What the hell are you doing? You need a gun just to close a window?"

Everyone laughed at the bearded man for being cowardly. He snorted, let out a cold scoff, then grabbed the shotgun and stepped out the door.

He advanced cautiously toward the corridor's corner, holding the shotgun, and as he reached the staircase, he saw a glowing green ghost floating on the stairs.

The ghost appeared to be an old man, his face grim and grotesque, radiating eerie green light. Seeing the man with the shotgun, he shrieked and lunged at him.

The bearded man froze for a moment, then raised the shotgun and fired—bang. The bullet passed straight through the ghost, causing no harm. He fired again—still no effect.

The ghost sneered as it advanced. Just then, a series of bangs echoed as every door along the corridor was kicked open, and dozens of burly men charged out, guns in hand.

The leader, shaved head, sleeveless shirt, covered in tattoos, bellowed in a Texas accent: "What the hell's going on? Who the fuck is shooting here? You wanna die?!"

The bearded man stepped back two paces, slapped the barrel of his gun, spat, and said, "Come help! There's a ghost here!"

"A ghost? Jesus Christ, Fisherman, you've been snorting too much again! How could there be... Holy shit! It's real! A ghost!"

"Get out! Get out! There's a ghost!"

"!"

"Shoot! Bang! Bang! Bang! No... don't use shotguns—they won't work!"

"Automatic weapons! Who's got automatic weapons?!... Everyone wake up! Go upstairs, wake up the bosses—the hospital's haunted!"

Instantly, a storm of bullets flew through the corridor; the gang members sprinted in all directions, forming a crossfire network—shotguns, single-shot rifles, micro grenades, even rocket launchers were pulled out.

Those without guns rushed to drag out cabinets, tables, and chairs from the rooms; within seconds, layered barricades were erected. Gunners took up positions at varying heights behind the cover, muzzle flashes blinking continuously like flowers blooming in sequence.

In the storage closet at the end of the corridor, cleaning supplies were piled in one corner; five or six small beds stood in the room. Suddenly, a boy covered in freckles jumped off one of the beds and said, "Hey, did you hear that? Gunfire?"

"Oh my God, who dares shoot here? Do they want to die?!"

"What's happening? What's going on?"

"Go check!"

The other awakened children sat up, cracked open their doors slightly, and peered out nervously.

At that moment, the bearded man, now retreated to the rear line, waved to them and shouted, "Go upstairs! Tell the bosses—third floor is haunted! We need fire support!"

"Haunted?"

The boy was startled, but quickly darted out through the door crack, sprinted up the stairs with thumping steps, and reached the fifth floor in moments.

By now, gunfire from the third floor had reached them. The gang bosses, still in expensive silk pajamas, opened their doors sleepily, looked at each other, and had no idea what was happening downstairs.

As the boy burst up the stairs, he collided with a gang boss heading downstairs. He nearly fell, recognized the man, and quickly apologized: "Oh! Sorry, sir, I'm here to deliver a message—didn't bump you, did I?"

"It's fine. What's going on downstairs? Sounds like a fight."

"Uh... Fisherman from the South Zone of Hellmouth sent me up—he says the third floor is haunted... uh... he needs fire support."

"Haunted?" The gang boss squinted, looking puzzled.

But soon, the gunfire below grew more intense. He knew this wasn't a prank. He stepped to the center of the corridor, waved his hand, and the others gathered around him.

As the boy ran back and forth between floors, windows across Arkham Asylum's building lit up one by one; soon, nearly all windows on the third, fourth, and fifth floors were illuminated.

Batman, who had just driven onto the ramp, slowed the car gradually. He opened the door and stared at the suddenly blazing Arkham building, squinting.

As he pondered what could be happening inside Arkham Asylum, he didn't notice that the Joker, Jack, covered in blood and tossed onto the back seat, slowly opened his eyes—and smiled slyly.

Following Batman's gaze, only one room on the seventh floor remained lit, while the third, fourth, and fifth floors were already illuminated.

Inside that room, Jonathan, Hugo, and Constantine frowned at a magical screen displaying live footage.

Constantine sighed helplessly: "I told you this wouldn't work. My poor little pet's getting shot to death."

"Ghosts get shot?" Hugo looked at Constantine with disdain.

"Ghosts don't get hurt by bullets—they're immune. But they fear the flash and heat from gunfire. Light and heat are deadly to them," Constantine explained with a sigh.

Their plan had been fairly meticulous: they intended to start from the upper floors, opening every patient's door and releasing them all downward.

Generally, the higher the floor, the more dangerous the patient. Releasing the most dangerous ones first to hunt those on lower floors would create greater chaos and awaken their violent instincts.

The method: Constantine would control a ghost to retrieve the keys and unlock the doors.

Retrieving the keys went smoothly—Constantine's ghost manipulation was excellent. He didn't alert anyone, successfully obtained the keys, and opened the doors on the third, fourth, and fifth floors without incident.

But after opening the doors, they discovered a problem: no one reacted at all.

Because Constantine had created a magical screen that followed the ghost's viewpoint, they could clearly see the ghost making no effort to hide the sound—the lock clicks were unmistakable—but the patients remained completely asleep.

Hugo suspected the patients were overdosed on sedatives and slept too deeply at night.

So Hugo, as a psychiatrist, had Constantine make the ghost smash windows, create sharp noises, let cold wind rush in to alter the temperature, and made the ghost flash repeatedly to produce drastic light changes.

These were all stimuli that should wake sleeping patients—but after all their efforts, no one emerged.

Finally, Hugo proposed a solution: have Constantine's ghost deliberately reveal itself to lure people out.

But they quickly realized Gotham truly deserved its reputation as the world's most dangerous city. As predicted, these patients were terrifyingly extreme: the moment they encountered a ghost, they didn't scream or flee—they tried to physically exterminate it.

The ghost Constantine had placed on the third floor was now backed into a corner. Continuous flashes, explosions, deafening noise, and heat had dimmed its glow significantly.

"This won't work—we need to lure them outside! Quick! Make that ghost run out!" Hugo shouted.

Constantine raised his glowing hands—but before he could act, the magical screen suddenly blazed pure white. All three covered their eyes.

"Flashbang? Where the hell did they get military flashbangs?!" Hugo yelled, shielding his eyes.

When the light faded, they tried to open their eyes—then another flashbang exploded. Constantine's eyes streamed tears; he waved his hand and shut off the screen.

"What the hell?! Where did these patients get so much firepower?!" Hugo screamed in disbelief.

"So much? Why do you think this is 'so much'?!" Constantine, who'd spent a few days on Gotham's streets, shouted back.

"This isn't enough? Then what would be—"

"Boom!"

"!"

Batman, who had just driven the Batmobile beneath Arkham Asylum, watched in horror as one corner of the building collapsed in a violent explosion.

Batman sensed danger and immediately swerved the wheel to steer away—but at that moment, Jack the Joker leapt up from the back seat and wrapped his arms around Batman's neck.

Batman struggled violently, his hands leaving the steering wheel. The out-of-control car spun and flew outward, crashing directly into the steps before Arkham's main entrance.

At that instant, several rocket projectiles shot down from the windows above, slamming into the rear of the Batmobile with thuds.

The entire Batmobile was hurled into the air by the blast, spun two and a half times in midair, then slammed with a thump against the front doors of Arkham Asylum.