Chapter 4906: There Is No Batman Here (Eleven)

The bishop stood in the shadow of the statue of Jesus. Constantine retreated somewhat disheveled to his side. Even without suffering the monsters' mental attacks, physical attacks were troublesome enough. The monsters pouring into the cathedral grew ever more numerous, and he could barely hold his own alone.

"If you have any abilities, now is the time to use them." Constantine said, "Of course, I'm not saying you must have them; if you can dig me a grave in advance, I'd be grateful too."

The bishop smiled at him. That smile was neither contempt nor mockery, nor was it kindness—it was more like he found it amusing. Yet Constantine truly could not see what was amusing about this situation.

Looking at the gaunt black monster lunging toward them once more, Constantine picked up the Bible. As the pages turned, the last glimmer of faith's light shot out from the Bible, repelling the nearest monster. Yet more monsters appeared on the beams, the floor, and even atop the statue of Jesus.

"With both me and Jesus present, you actually chose to rely on me." The bishop said, "But you're right—listen, the death knell tolls."

Constantine turned his head. He looked toward the bell tower, where there was no one and no bell sound. Yet the next second, a black-and-yellow sturdy figure burst through the window, beneath the gleaming N-metal greatsword all beings were equal, and the monsters emitted sharp cries.

The tank's silhouette flashed past outside the door, all corporeal monsters were flung into the air. Gordon, who had just burst through the bushes and shrubs, slammed on the brakes, and upon seeing the agent's young face, he froze for a moment.

"Get in." The agent shook his head.

The vehicle carried several people and rushed to the cathedral's main gate. The blood-soaked and black-sludge-covered death knell stepped out just then. Arrogance dismounted, like an utterly ordinary churchgoer coming to worship, pushed open the door, and walked slowly inside.

The monsters inside the cathedral had been mostly cleared. Constantine leaned against the pulpit, one leg curled up, the other straight, panting ungracefully.

"I brought you some things." Arrogance said.

Constantine had not even considered that he was speaking to himself, yet he did not expect Arrogance to lower his head, his gaze truly falling upon Constantine. "This should help you."

What Arrogance held was a bone, not a thick beast bone, obviously not a limb bone; it looked somewhat like a clavicle, yet unlike a human clavicle.

Constantine blinked. Arrogance crouched down, handed him the bone. Constantine sprang up from the ground nimbly, also crouched, and took the bone, saying: "This is a demon's wing bone—where did you get it?"

"I once hosted a banquet." Arrogance stood up, speaking lightly, "This is a keepsake left by Azazel."

Constantine grimaced slightly. Though he had not been in contact with that public hell for long, he also knew Azazel was a demon of what rank. In his eyes, this bone radiated immense power.

And Azazel was also a fallen angel. His power did not entirely conflict with heaven's power, and could even be used simultaneously. Just as Constantine held this bone in one hand and the Bible in the other, the Bible showed no reaction.

"Thank you." Constantine said, "If there's anything I can help with..."

Gordon, upon seeing the three Shilers before him, only felt the heavens collapse. He said to Brainiac: "I never thought AI could devise such a flamboyant suicide method—do you think a lake monster isn't enough?"

"Please don't say that." Brainiac said, "Don't think I don't know—the lake monster also has your share..."

"Is this the point?!" Gordon nearly roared, "Why did you bring three..."

"It wasn't me who brought them." Brainiac directly deflected responsibility, "They came of their own accord. Moreover, they are quite united, aren't they?"

"Ha, so you think this is a good thing?" Gordon was about to mock, but then he reconsidered—unity is good, unity truly is a good thing. If three Shilers started fighting in Gotham, that would truly be the sky falling.

But Gordon could see no possibility that the Shilers would not fight. Even if this game did not allow players to slaughter each other, they had plenty of ways to sabotage themselves.

"How do you guarantee they won't fight?" Gordon asked, "This is fundamentally impossible."

"You just don't understand." Brainiac said somewhat proudly, "The key lies in selection. I've long discovered that the Shilers split into two factions, which they themselves seem to call pathological and normal."

To prevent them from fighting, you cannot let both factions appear together at once. And even among the normal faction, some don't get along—for example, our side's arrogance and the other side's greed. If those two appear together, they will likely fight. Greed and the agent are the same."

"But the agent and arrogance are different—they are entirely two kinds of people, basically no conflict. And as for this bishop, Nya told me that if he were summoned, he wouldn't fight the other two; instead, he'd more likely unite them."

"You understand this quite well." Gordon said, somewhat surprised.

"Electronic life pursues efficiency." Brainiac said, "Studying the Shilers is quite meaningful. If we use a metaphor, the Shilers are like a microcosm of human society; studying them is like studying human sociology, and I am now full of enthusiasm for this."

"I hope your research is correct." Gordon said, "High risk, high reward. If you can truly decipher the Shilers, then human society—and even the entire universe—will be easy for you."

"Thanks for the kind words." Brainiac said, "I'm working hard on it."

Pamela and Tim arrived quickly, yet they were the slowest to enter the cathedral, because they were busy clearing monsters around. Don't look at the commotion the death knell they made—it was big, but in reality they only dealt with some monsters that had rushed inside the cathedral; those outside were all taken out by Pamela.

When the two of them entered the cathedral one after another, seeing the three Shilers standing together, they also grimaced. Tim whispered: "Is there only one Verdant of All Things in the universe? Can you find another?"

"Would finding another be enough?" Pamela said somewhat helplessly, "If they're going to fight here, bringing ten would be useless."

However, the atmosphere among the Shilers was somewhat unusual. They had seen those incompatible with themselves, had not seen those unfamiliar with themselves, yet they were indeed not very familiar with each other.

As for arrogance, let's not speak of it. His inertia is extremely strong, his level of action is chronically inactive, utterly opposed to the agent, and also has little to do with mysticism, so he is not very familiar with the bishop either.

Actually, the bishop and the agent are not familiar either. Because the bishop was obviously captured before, while the agent had already been co-opted at that time. The agent's kills don't need the bishop to handle corpses—there's a dedicated logistics department for that. And the bishop obviously has no interest in agents or the like.

But as Brainiac said, not being familiar is a good thing, because not being familiar means they won't fight. Even, precisely because they are not familiar, they can still help each other, which is a rare sight among the Shilers.

"I found this." Pamela pulled out from behind a crystal emitting white light, "Looks like a monster drop—what is it for?"

"Faith core." The bishop said, "Do you see the statue of Jesus behind me? This is what was used to build it. You can sweep away the blueprints, then take this core and build one for your own base."

Upon hearing this, Tim became interested, "As long as we have this, we can build, right? If I build ten, wouldn't that be equivalent to Jesus' descent?"

"Obviously this is a rare item." Pamela shook her head and said, "We've fought so many monsters and only dropped one."

"This can also be given to you." Constantine turned to glance at the Jesus statue, then said, "I can make something better; this one is unnecessary."

The bishop stepped forward, looking at him, "Are you sure? This is currently our only means of protection..."

"Obviously not useful." Constantine said somewhat helplessly, "The Jesus statue can only be used for defense, and we two have no offensive means, mainly because you lack..."

"Then what do you think they come from?" The bishop pursed his lips.

Constantine looked toward Charles, thinking Charles had summoned him. After all, there's no limit to Charles's ability—he can view anyone's memory in this city at any time.

But Constantine had also heard of Charles. He knows this professor usually does not proactively view others' memories. So he looked again at the bishop—just now, who had he been praying to?

Constantine had doubts, but dealing with the matter at hand was more urgent. He looked at the others and said: "We here might still need your help—if you want anything, just take it. Who wants the core?"

"We already have." Pamela waved the thing in her hand, "I just checked the formula—aside from this core, everything else is easy to obtain. Stockpile for the next wave, and it should suffice. This is already quite a good haul."

"We don't need it either." Death Knell said, "Our monsters are gangsters, using modern weapons, appearing unmutated. We two can handle them completely."

"We don't need it either." Arrogance said, "We have Charles."

Unexpectedly, the several parties who came to help all didn't really need it. Constantine hesitated a moment—actually, multiple shields aren't bad, but he worried some squad might entirely lack mental protection.

"One squad might need it." Charles said, "They're at Wayne Manor, holding only some modern weapons, and no superpowered beings. But the monsters besieging them seem to have magical mutations."

"I'll make a run." The agent said, "We need balanced development—if someone gets wiped out too early, later will surely be tough."

Everyone had no objections. Constantine used the terminal to dismantle the Jesus statue behind him, handed the core to the agent, then took that bone and gestured there, seemingly planning to set up a formation.

After repelling this wave of attack, they all left, after all they still had missions. Constantine busied himself while asking: "How did you summon them?"

"Magic." The bishop stood aside, watching, he said, "Just as I don't ask why you fiddle with these magic arrays—explaining the principles is troublesome."

"Nothing much." Constantine crouched, arranging things on the ground, "Since we're teammates, we should understand each other; otherwise, when unexpected situations arise, we can't cope. Isn't that right?"

"How should I put it?" The bishop sat down on the ground, leaning against the side of the pulpit, and said, "Actually, there are many titles, more fitting than 'bishop'."

"Like 'Death'? I heard Charles call you that."

The bishop shook his head, "Perhaps 'priest'."