Chapter 486

When discussing the backstory of the Green Lantern Corps, one point frequently mentioned is that Green Lanterns fear Yellow Lantern energy.

Logically, although the Lantern Corps differ in color, they aren't like MMOs with elemental weaknesses—each Corps is fundamentally equal, merely representing different emotions, so color alone doesn't imply one dominates another; so how did Green Lanterns come to be weak against Yellow?

This goes back to the unlucky little blue men.

As the universe's first sentient lifeform and a hyper-advanced civilization that had developed for countless millennia, after crafting the Green Lantern Corps from the emotional spectrum of the cosmos, they, like other intelligent civilizations, feared their own creation might turn against them.

Then, this supremely powerful race, to prevent the Green Lantern Corps from betraying them, devised a brilliant idea: they sealed the Yellow Lantern entity, Parallax, the embodiment of fear, inside the central Green Lantern battery.

The Green Lantern battery could contain Parallax, but at the same time, the Yellow Lantern entity infiltrated the central battery, becoming a blind spot in the Green Lantern spectrum—thus, Yellow energy became the Green Lanterns' weakness; whenever they encountered it, they either lost all power or were left utterly debilitated.

Then, the little blue men painted their homes yellow, believing this would deter Green Lanterns from attacking them.

This immensely advanced, ancient race of super-beings, instead of employing any intelligent safeguards—such as class separation, hierarchical control, or supporting rulers—simply shoved Parallax into the battery and painted their houses their "support color."

No matter how many times you replay this plan, it remains absurdly ridiculous.

But regardless, the little blue men succeeded: after sealing Parallax inside the Green Lantern battery, Yellow energy indeed became the Green Lanterns' weakness—and Shiler, who knew the comic plot, naturally understood how to counter them.

Previously, due to Parallax's absence, Pikachu had absorbed vast amounts of Yellow Lantern battery energy, filling the void and becoming the legitimate Yellow Lantern entity.

Thus, if Shiler imitated the little blue men's actions and sealed the Yellow Lantern entity inside the Green Lantern Corps' central battery, Yellow energy would once again become the Green Lanterns' weakness.

Of course, Shiler didn't possess a Yellow Lantern ring himself; though he could summon one, last time Batman and Elsa had beaten Sinestro senseless, Sinestro fled—and surely blacklisted this city overnight, so Shiler might not even be able to summon a Yellow Lantern ring.

But it didn't matter—they had something even better than a Yellow Lantern ring: the original Yellow Lantern entity, Parallax—now Elsa, Batman's daughter.

Elsa, transformed from Parallax, had been reborn—but not entirely.

She used the shell of the Laughing Egg to become a miniature Bruce, yet internally remained Parallax, inherently possessing the ability to channel the universe's "fear" emotional spectrum energy.

But to convert fear into energy, a lantern battery is required—and Gotham clearly had no such battery; thus, logically, Elsa had no power, like a phone with no battery—technically usable, but unable to activate without a charger.

But don't forget: within Gotham City lies DC's darkest source of fear—Batman himself.

When Shiler carried Elsa to the rooftop and watched the Green Lanterns descend like auroras from the sky, Elsa didn't immediately charge toward her chew toy; instead, she turned her small head back and forth, as if searching for someone.

Suddenly, her head froze—her gaze locked onto a distant point, as if she'd found what she sought—then *whoosh*, she vanished.

At that moment, Batman stood atop another skyscraper, adjusting his Batplane; seeing the green lights descending, he knew a brutal battle awaited him.

*Bang! * A thunderous crash echoed outside the cockpit. Batman turned his head in confusion, pressed a button, and the door opened—into it dashed a tiny figure, leaping straight onto Batman.

"Wah-wah-wah-wah! Wah-wah!"

Batman: "...?"

Elsa kept wailing for a long while, but Batman understood nothing; finally, she grew impatient, opened her mouth, and let out a deafening "Aaaoo!"

Instantly, Batman felt a momentary daze—fragmented images flashed through his vision: a black night sky, narrow alleys, muffled gunshots, scattered pearls...

These images passed too quickly for him to grasp, vanishing before he could fully see them; the hallucination lasted only an instant—then his vision was flooded with thick, brilliant yellow light.

Elsa in his arms glowed like a radiant lantern, emitting dazzling yellow radiance; her eyes became golden vertical pupils, two sharp horns sprouted from her forehead, and a massive tail grew from her back.

She floated free from his embrace, vanished instantly, and reappeared in the center of the battlefield.

Tyrone, who had just arrived in Gotham and was surveying the city, saw a sunlike orb of light land before him; upon closer look, the orb's center was a little girl.

Tyrone hesitated for a moment—then sensed a familiar energy. He shouted: "Yellow Lantern?! Damn it! It's Sinestro's trap!"

"Get out of the way!"

"Get out of the way!"

"Get out of the way!"

Accompanying his roar, concentric waves rippled outward from the orb; yellow light pierced through snow and clouds, silently illuminating the night sky of the East Coast.

Standing nearby, Clark saw that wherever the yellow light reached, Green Lanterns dropped like dumplings into Gotham, pattering down in a flurry.

When they hit the ground, their green auras flickered twice, then dimmed like dead lightbulbs.

The light on their Green Lantern rings became so faint they could barely form a thin green membrane around their bodies; their once-bright glow now barely glimmered, as if about to vanish at any moment.

Clark crossed his arms, looked down at the writhing Green Lanterns, then raised his gaze to the only one still airborne—Tyrone, the current Corps leader.

As a leader, his strength was undeniable; after enduring Elsa's full-power blast, he still maintained flight via his ring—but as he reeled from dizziness, he saw a crimson beam of destruction streaking toward him.

Tyrone barely dodged, but the beam grazed his arm; the green light shattered instantly, the ring's glow flickered wildly, and alarms blared. Tyrone shouted: "Who are you?! Wait—you're a Kryptonian?! How are you here?!"

Hearing Tyrone's words, Clark was confused—he didn't understand the word "Kryptonian"—but before Tyrone could continue, a yellow orb *thudded* into his back, sending Elsa flying him away.

One yellow, one green orb streaked across the sky like meteors and crashed into Gotham's central roundabout.

Clark and Batman, who had just flown over in his Batplane, looked down together at the mushroom cloud rising from the roundabout, then nodded in unison and sighed.

"Hey, Batman, what are you doing here?"

Clark waved at the Batplane, then flew alongside it, saying as he flew: "Whoa! Such a cool plane! Can I get inside?"

"No." Batman's reply was blunt and immediate.

"Oh, come on—I admit you're a genius, and your taste is amazing! This plane is awesome! I've only seen planes like this in model books—I bet if you made a model of it, you'd win every award!"

Batman's resistance visibly wavered—then, as if unable to wait, Clark leaned in and gently tapped the Batplane's wing.

*I Have a Scroll of Ghost and God Illustrations*

And the Batplane spun violently out of control.

Inside, Batman frantically pulled the controls—but the plane, struck by immense force, was uncontrollable; a black meteor streaked across the sky and plunged into Gotham's central roundabout.

Shiler stood on the rooftop, watching another mushroom cloud rise from the roundabout; he shook his head and sighed.

Meanwhile, the Green Lanterns knocked down by Elsa's blast finally recovered from their dizziness.

Just now, Elsa's EMP had drained nearly all the energy from their rings, even damaging them—flight, teleportation, and barrier-penetration functions were all disabled.

Dazed Green Lanterns staggered to their feet—only to face the black muzzles of Gotham's furious gangs.

One lamp after another lit up; one street after another blazed with light; crowds poured from homes—not for any celebration, but because in this city of sin, the only event that unites its citizens is hunting.

On the pitch-black streets, the roar of engines came— a Green Lantern, faintly glowing green, heard the sound and spun around sharply; in his vision, at the alley's end, two ghostly headlights glowed.

The truck's headlights turned the alley as bright as day—the only darkness was the Green Lantern's own shadow; under the intense light, he saw the driver: a man with a thick beard, holding a shotgun.

The Fisherman opened the door, stepped forward with gun raised; the Green Lantern, unlike the new recruits who fled earlier, assumed a defensive stance, ready to counterattack.

*Bang! * The muzzle flashed—deadly buckshot fired—but at the same moment, a brighter green beam blinded the Fisherman; when he lowered his arm, the Green Lantern had already leapt over the alley wall and vanished.

The Fisherman stepped forward, picked up the shotgun shells on the ground, sighed, and turned to the skinny man beside him: "Call the boss—regular weapons still don't work. Didn't expect even their dim green glow could block bullets."

The Fisherman got back in the truck; the skinny man shut the door. As the engine roared, the skinny man lit a cigarette and said helplessly: "They already knew this— but those new freeze guns are too scarce; everyone wants one. By now, the North District's probably already fighting over them."

The Fisherman lit his own cigarette, exhaled smoke, grinned as he steered:

"Don't worry—even if every dockworker in the East District pooled together, I'm still one of the top shooters. I'll get a gun, for sure. Then, heh-heh..."

Inside the cab, the cigarette's glow flickered, casting shadows across the Fisherman's rugged, meaty face, making his smile grow colder; as the engine vibrated with acceleration, he asked:

"You afraid of ghosts?"

The skinny man curled one side of his mouth into a cold grin:

"Ghosts? Gotham has no ghosts—only corpses."