Chapter 489: Code Name Emerald (Part 1)

In the core hub of the Green Lantern headquarters, where lights flickered green, Hal sat quietly before the screen, studying the information.

Just moments ago, his ring alerted him that he could download the needed data into his ring and instantly summon Green Lantern energy to transmit it directly into his mind.

But Hal did not press the confirmation key.

From birth to adulthood, Hal had always believed himself to be a good man—even if he wasn't a saint who constantly prioritized others over himself, sometimes acted on impulse, stubbornly refused to listen, or quarreled with his parents and friends; yet the conviction to aid the weak and rescue those in peril had always been etched into his bones.

Since childhood, many had received his help: he'd saved children from drowning, stopped robbers on the street, and aided homeless beggars even when he himself was poor; he was no savior of all humanity, merely an ordinary good man with conscience.

Thus, when faced with critical choices, he often felt hesitation and uncertainty.

To him, Earth was his homeland, the place holding everything he loved—he ought to give his all to protect it.

When he first became a Green Lantern, overwhelmed by the thrill of newfound power, he had carelessly uploaded much of this data into the Green Lantern network; only later, upon reflection, did he recognize the anomaly and begin to feel guilt.

So when Schiller approached him, asking him to cooperate with the plan and extract certain energies from the Green Lanterns, he agreed.

As a Green Lantern, he understood better than Schiller that Green Lantern energy was not inexhaustible; even if Schiller drained half the energy from headquarters, given enough time, the energy would slowly replenish.

But now, standing before these classified files at the core hub, Hal realized Schiller wanted far more than energy.

He wanted the entire Green Lantern Corps.

Only now did Hal piece together the full chain of events.

At first, Schiller had sent Hal to the Green Lantern Corps seeking aid, urging him to bring back even a small team—simply to let these Green Lanterns witness the danger of Gotham and become trapped there.

When they were mired in chaos and their energy nearly depleted, they would inevitably call for reinforcements.

Then, the majority of the Corps' combat strength would be dispatched to Gotham; once they arrived, Schiller would use other methods to bring them all down, placing every Green Lantern—including the Corps' commander—in mortal peril of total annihilation.

At that moment, Hal would step forward, rescuing them all from ruin, saving them from fire and water.

It was as if Schiller had summoned countless powerful supporting characters, all merely to highlight the protagonist, Hal, and gift him an enormous, unparalleled achievement.

Imagination

This achievement would not only propel him past the Green Lantern novice stage into full Lantern status, but also catapult him straight into the Corps' core, bypassing years of accumulating combat records, field training, and slow promotion.

Thinking of this, Hal sighed inwardly, recalling the words Alfred had spoken in the Mayor's estate.

"When we need to place a spy in a high position, we generally do three things."

"First, destabilize the region so that most of its high-ranking officials are occupied with quelling chaos."

"Second, have other agents create problems that only the spy has the capacity to resolve, providing him the opportunity to rise."

"Third, eliminate one or several key figures during the chaos, creating vacancies for him to fill."

"Finally, we no longer need forceful means to make them accept the spy's ascension—we let it unfold naturally."

"If this attempt fails, we patiently wait for the next opportunity; in a vast, complex organization, there will always be one chance to place the right person in the right position."

Hal suddenly realized the absurdity: Alfred had already given him the answer long before any of this began.

Everything Schiller had done was traceable—or rather, in their field, these were as certain as mathematical theorems, practiced, refined, and distilled by countless others.

Hal didn't know whether Green Lanterns employed such tactics, but there was no doubt: Schiller's plan had succeeded.

The only variable left was Hal's choice.

Hal sat at the table, watching the cold glow of the screen reflected on its smooth surface—data streams flowed, light points flickered, like a lake mirroring starlight.

He knew Schiller had withheld all this from him precisely to give him the chance to choose.

Hal didn't understand why Schiller would do this—why stake such a massive investment of manpower and resources on a single decision of his.

Could he really make such a vital choice? Could he truly be entrusted with shaping Earth's future?

Batman had the same question.

In the estate, he still sat upright on the sofa, back rigid, refusing to lean against the cushion, and asked:

"You could have done all this yourself. You possess a Green Lantern ring; you're a Corps member. Your acting and abilities are far superior to that man Hal, and more importantly, you would certainly choose Earth."

"Why are you so certain?" Schiller countered.

"Because if you weren't, you wouldn't have orchestrated all this."

Batman's answer was perfectly correct: Schiller had gone to such lengths, spun such a vast web, and elevated Hal precisely because he wanted someone to control the Green Lantern Corps and align it with Earth.

Yet Batman's question held merit: Schiller could have done it all himself—he could have engineered this grand event, stepped onto the stage as the hero when the Green Lanterns were crushed, saved them from fire and water, earned their adoration, and seized the Corps' power core.

Batman had no doubt Schiller would have done it better; though Schiller often claimed he was merely an ordinary man, and told Hal he was the strongest-willed person on Earth, far superior to himself.

But his methods proved he didn't need brute strength; instead, cunning, deception, and political maneuvering mattered far more.

Batman believed that if Schiller successfully entered the Green Lantern Corps' leadership core, Oa would soon become Earth's satellite.

"Batman, I believe I've told you before—you're too obsessed with efficiency, too goal-driven, to the point of overlooking incidental gains."

Schiller set down his glass and explained: "Indeed, if I acted alone, efficiency would be far higher—I wouldn't even need to direct this play; I could simply follow standard procedure: report to Oa, train, and soon climb to the Corps' upper echelons."

"But then, I'd still be me. To me, that would just be a task—no growth, merely dull and tedious. I'm already on Earth's side; this wouldn't change me."

"But Hal is different. Though still immature, his potential is limitless; more importantly, he hasn't been brainwashed by the Green Lanterns' ideals of peace and justice—he still has room to change."

"If we can use this opportunity to forge a staunch ally on Earth's side, why not?"

On the other side of the sofa, Constantine asked: "But how can you be so sure Hal will choose Earth? He's human, yes—but Green Lantern power is immense and comes without cost. What if he's tempted?"

"If I'm not mistaken, he's probably in the Green Lantern Corps' headquarters right now, having stumbled upon certain classified data. But how could he suddenly abandon his faith in the Corps after believing their rhetoric for so long?"

Schiller smiled, poured himself more wine, watching the golden liquid slowly fill the glass, and said calmly: "Don't tell me you think you were born perfect."

"Of course I—" Constantine began to agree, then caught Batman's narrowed gaze and swallowed his words.

To mask his embarrassment, Constantine coughed twice and said: "Fine, even if we weren't born perfect, what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying we can give him time. When he understands the true nature of the problem, he'll stand with his own people more firmly than anyone else."

"The true nature…" Batman trailed off slightly—an unusual pause, clearly because he'd recalled something. He said: "I remember you once told a story, about a race called the Guardians of the Universe appearing shortly after the universe's birth…"

"Yes, I recall—I told you they were a sentient race, though often not very wise."

Batman seemed to understand. He said: "No sentient being can be absolutely selfless."

"To some extent, the smarter you are, the more selfish you become—that's true, because the intelligent can analyze gains and losses clearly, then achieve maximum results with minimal cost."

"But upholding justice, maintaining peace, aiding the weak—these are acts that demand great sacrifice and yield almost no return."

"Many call heroes who do these things 'fools,' because their actions seem foolish indeed."

"They spend their money, energy, time—wasting them on the weak, who have nothing to do with them—this violates every principle of risk investment."

"Because it's not an investment at all," Batman added: "If you want returns, don't become a hero."

This made Constantine glance at him sharply. He paused, shrugged, and muttered as if to himself: "Alright, you're all heroes, and I'm just a bastard… I'm a bastard—I want returns."

"Of course…" Schiller shifted tone: "While this spirit is admirable, pure self-sacrifice isn't worth promoting. Rewards can inspire heroes to unleash greater power. So my role is to speak pragmatically behind this great spirit…"

"Enough digressions." Schiller took a sip of wine and said: "I don't need to guide Hal to reject them, because they've never represented justice—they've never been fair."

"True justice doesn't exist in the universe—only power. And since everyone is power, I want us to be stronger."

In the Green Lantern Corps' headquarters, Hal ultimately did not press the confirmation button. He simply stood, gazed out the window at everything on Oa, then turned and left the core hub.