Chapter 4899: There Is No Batman Here (Four)

Alberto's mental world is the Falcone estate. Evans sat at the piano in the hall, flipping through sheet music. Afternoon sunlight fell on him, showing a touch of leisure and warmth. But his figure was somewhat blurry; from afar, he looked like an oil painting.

"Evans." Shiler called out.

The other seemed very surprised. Turning his head to see Shiler at that moment, he stood up flustered. Shiler walked quickly forward, examined him up and down, then said: "Your situation is indeed not good. Why didn't you come find me?"

"Professor, how did you get here?" Evans asked, "Did Alberto tell you something?"

Shiler lightly nodded his head.

"I told him not to make such a fuss." Evans sighed, saying somewhat dejectedly.

"And Tim, Tim Drake." Shiler added, "Do you still remember him? You met in Italy."

"Ah, of course." Evans nodded, sitting back on the piano bench, "But Alberto doesn't really like him, so we haven't seen much of each other since."

"He's very worried about you, and so am I." Shiler spoke frankly for once, "When you left Gotham, things were quite stable. Two personalities could coexist and alternate surfacing. Why is it like this now?"

"Actually Alberto is the Falcone." Evans said, "He has many things to do, and I don't want to keep delaying him. Staying in the mental world, writing some music is also nice. I passed some time like that. When resurfacing, I just kept feeling spiritless. Then it became like this."

"Alberto also suggested I go out more. But when I control the body, there's basically nothing to do. Either listening to concerts or viewing exhibitions, feeling completely like wasting time."

"After meeting Tim, Alberto thought he was a bit dangerous and disagreed with me contacting him. When I go out, I have even less to do, so I haven't controlled the body for a long time."

Shiler let out a long sigh. Charles said: "He is in self-denial. In multiple personalities, once a personality denies itself, it will easily disappear."

"You're not without things to do," Charles looked at Evans's eyes and said, "Is listening to concerts and viewing exhibitions not proper business?"

Evans shook his head and said: "Not at all. That's just killing time with entertainment. But people can't always entertain; they must do some proper work."

"What does Alberto usually do?" Charles asked.

"He has a lot on his plate. Managing the Falcone family business, participating in politics in Italy, developing Sicily, even managing lemon groves. It feels like 24 hours a day aren't enough."

"Not like that," Shiler said softly, "You grew up in Gotham, always full of crisis awareness. But in peaceful times, there's nothing urgent, so you can't even listen to a concert."

"Yeah," Evans said, "Even when Gotham wasn't doing well, we'd go to the theater to see opera. But I just want to help Alberto. I really can't understand business matters. So this is how it is."

Shiler looked at Charles, and Charles said: "Better to separate the body. But before that, I need to first take his mental form away for treatment."

"I..." Evans was clearly unwilling.

But Charles was clearly the kind of doctor who wouldn't care whether a mental patient consents. He waved his hand, and Evans's figure vanished from the room. Immediately after, Alberto came down from upstairs.

"My brother is trouble for you." Alberto said, "The Falcone family owes you a favor. If there's anything, just speak up."

Charles nodded at him. The two returned to the real world. Shiler sighed and said: "Is he causing a lot of trouble?"

"Not too bad," Charles said, "He's the kind of person with excessive sympathy. I just told him that his and his brother's case has great research value and might help many people. Then he didn't cause much trouble."

"Good then." Shiler let out a slight sigh. Charles glanced out the window, the fog growing thicker, and said: "During the period I help him nurture his mental form, I cannot leave this universe. Do you have anything to do here?"

"Normally I go to work and grade homework. But the rainy season hasn't passed, so I can only stay home and watch TV. Do you want to join Brainiac's new game?" Shiler obviously saw through it.

"Even if I don't go, I won't help you grade homework either—your homework, you grade yourself." Charles seemed to have seen through Shiler's thought, "I still have a big pile of assignments from mutants that I haven't graded. If not to avoid this, why would I come here?"

Both sighed in unison. If every family has its hard-to-recite sutra, then every professor or teacher has a whole library. To avoid work, especially grading homework, going on a killing spree in some battle dungeons is not unacceptable.

"Brainiac." Shiler shouted.

"Got it, I'll add you to the player list." Brainiac said.

"Are there any restrictions in the rules?" Charles asked, "For example, cannot use telepathy or brainwave amplifiers..."

"No such restriction," Brainiac said, "Everyone's all abilities can be used. However, telepathy ability users must be extra careful. Because I got the sponsorship of Nyarlathotep."

Charles frowned slightly. Indeed, outer gods are the bane of psychic ability users; if misread, it's like giving oneself a punch to the brain in minutes.

"I think we might lack some combat power..." Charles's gaze fell on Ethan. He and Ethan aren't too familiar, but it's visible that Ethan can fight better than the two of them.

"You need to get me a gun," Ethan said, "Best is a big gun. Otherwise, also a semi-automatic pistol, no revolvers."

"I'll do my best," Shiler said, "Or we can stay inside the house, as long as they don't rush in."

"Your estimate of strength might be too optimistic," Charles looked out the window and said, "If abilities aren't limited, one can imagine how strong the monsters will be."

Shiler shook his head, walked to the back of the house and brought out an umbrella. Because the umbrella is folded, only some patterns on the umbrella surface are visible, not what exactly it is. Shiler placed the umbrella in front of the door. At the moment he opened it, the fog visibly dissipated to the naked eye, and the surrounding space also trembled slightly.

"Wait!!!" Brainiac started screaming again, "Cannot use the life equation and anti-life equation, I haven't done adaptation!!"

Shiler sighed, had no choice but to close the umbrella. The fog then stabilized. Shiler thought and said: "I'll go ask Commissioner Gordon first. Otherwise we might not even be able to hold the house."

"Hello, welcome to the Fog Realm." A voice sounded in the Robins' ears. Red Hood cautiously put his hand on the gun at his waist.

"Brainiac?" Red Robin obviously knew more. He and this universe's Tim have had many dealings, knowing they've already been taken over by Brainiac here. Though it sounds absurd, they still decided to go with the flow.

"Yes, sir," Brainiac said, "You have now entered the Fog Realm system, currently in loading. The base system has finished loading, please choose which base you will garrison next. If anything is unclear, ask me."

"What the hell?" Red Hood still didn't quite understand.

Last time the Robins came to this universe, their ages were relatively young, all still just teenagers. Nightwing had run away from home not long ago, Red Robin had just started duty, Red Hood had just returned, lacking experience and ability for many things.

After so many years, they followed Batman in training, and have all become mature warriors. This time they came back, just to let this damned universe see the might of the Bat family.

Result: they got stronger, but this Gotham also seemed stronger. Going out to pick up a stick to hit small crayfish, returning after leveling up once, turning into using a machine gun to hit Gundams, still not much better.

Brainiac briefly introduced his game system. This quickly attracted the Robins. Actually the Batcave also has a set of realistic training systems, but basically only for Bat family use, and there are some restrictions, can't play freely.

Unexpectedly, this evil AI actually created a realistic copy of an entire city, and doesn't restrict abilities and equipment. Then isn't it possible to simulate all disasters happening in Gotham here, then respond?

The Robins exchanged glances, instantly realizing the system's value. No wonder Batman agreed to let them come play. Before, they wanted to come several times, but Batman refused, saying to hang out with the nameless bat, which is not good. The Robins also couldn't refute.

"Who else is joining the game?" Red Hood asked eagerly, "This universe's Batman?"

He hasn't forgotten that when they first came to Gotham, they received Bruce's hospitality—Bruce directly took them to the Joker's face.

"There's no Batman here," Brainiac said, "But there are indeed quite a few people, besides this big world's, also the neighboring world's. You'll encounter them in upcoming missions. Now you can start choosing your base."

"Then we choose Wayne…… oh, wait. We can't choose Wayne Manor, right? Because this universe's Robins..."

"You can choose Wayne Manor," Brainiac said, "Currently this base has no player occupation, confirm selection?"

"Wait, wait." Red Robin hurriedly called out to them, "Why doesn't this universe's Robin choose Wayne Manor? Is there something wrong there? Where did they go?"

"They have their own base," Brainiac replied, "No base interior will have any danger. Only the structure and attached facilities differ."

"But this universe has no Batcave?" Red Robin asked. He heard this universe's Tim say so, Bruce hasn't had time to build the Batcave.

Nightwing, however, cared about another matter. "They have their own base, did they become independent? Become a new superhero organization?"

"Not necessarily a superhero organization," Brainiac replied.

The Robins thought he meant the Robins might not actually have formed an independent organization, but the emphasis in Brainiac's words was actually on "superhero." Unfortunately, as an electronic lifeform, he rarely spoke with emphasis.

"Then let's choose Wayne Manor," Red Hood said, "after all, we've lived there before, we're familiar with the terrain, and choosing elsewhere would make base defense difficult."

"That works," Red Robin said thoughtfully, "Wayne Manor's location is good. Not in the center, nor too remote. Too bad the terrain is too flat. It would be better if it were on a mountainside."

"The hilly areas of Gotham in this universe are in the north," Brainiac said, "that used to be a gathering place for gangster manors, and there are bases available for selection. Want to take a look?"

"Still no," Red Robin said, shaking his head, "I can imagine what kind of people would choose there. I don't want to live next to a gang boss."