Chapter 4920

The storm hasn't completely passed, and all of Gotham is still damp. But the good news is that Gotham's teachers and students haven't returned to school yet. So Gordon moved like he was in an uninhabited land, swiftly weaving through Gotham University.

But the more he walked, the more he felt something was off. He said: "How do I remember that Gotham University's archives aren't over here?"

He was almost at the northernmost edge of Gotham University. There was a reserved plot for expansion kept there—simply put, a wasteland, and ordinary people wouldn't come here.

Although Gordon rarely entered Gotham University—no one here welcomes police—but he had been here a few times, so he had a rough understanding of the internal geography. He remembered the archives and library were together, located in the most densely built eastern part of Gotham University, while the cryogenic lab was somewhat to the west. Was the route Brainiac gave him a bit off?

"The archives have been relocated," Brainiac replied, "for two reasons. One is, I can't let the archives and library—two buildings that frequently experience anomalies—be near each other and influence each other. I don't want this place to one day open a paranormal major. Another is, students and teachers really don't need to constantly flip through certain student works in the archives; that would severely lower Gotham University's academic standards. Keeping it farther away is better for everyone."

"Oh, I see," Gordon said, "You're also afraid of the toilet paper they made."

"Toilet paper" as an adjective isn't accurate; what they made is more like something else that would appear in a restroom.

"Good heavens, you're disgusting."

"I'm talking about toilet water." Brainiac said this, but quickly threw out an even more disgusting metaphor: "Thinking they were a turbulent deep-sea vortex, they actually strained to spin for a long time, but in the end just dumped a lump of feces into academia."

Gordon was speechless. He soon saw the solitary building to the north. This building didn't even bother to match Gotham University's style—at a glance, it was clearly something Brainiac slapped together with prefabricated panels.

"Oh, wait!" Gordon exclaimed, "Didn't you check the flooding situation here? This looks like..."

He looked into the distance; this unreliable-looking building seemed already flooded. Gordon rushed over, and sure enough, the thing was submerged below, leaking above, with only five floors total—probably only the middle floor escaped unscathed.

When Brainiac built this thing, he never considered waterproofing. He even made a flat roof directly, although there were drainage pipes, but they obviously couldn't handle this much rainfall—right now the roof was leaking with a splashing sound.

Downstairs wasn't any better. Normally, such a building wouldn't store important items on the first floor, fearing floods. But Brainiac also simply lacked the patience to add more floors, so the documents and materials stored on the first floor were basically ruined.

"Wow," Brainiac said in a tone devoid of any emotion, "An unexpected blessing. Thanks to this torrential storm, it flushed this whole lump of feces away."

"You bastard," Gordon cursed, "How can you be so irresponsible?! No matter what this is, you can't just let it flood..."

"Then you're not also dumping corpses into the lake," Brainiac said, "I am a mirror; humanity is what it is, and I am what it is. It's regrettable you only now realize this."

Gordon was shut down again by him. It proves you really can't win an argument against an evil and cunning AI. He will play the role of an artificial idiot on anything he doesn't want to compromise on, then learn from humans in all aspects favorable to him, possessing a flexible moral baseline.

"Alright." Gordon also knew in his heart there wouldn't be anything important here, and electronic documents surely had backups. If the whole world wanted these academic impurities gone, he wouldn't insist on saving them. He looked left and right and said: "Where would Jonathan hide the fear toxin? Do you know which floor Bruce's thesis is on?"

"Master's and doctoral theses are all on the third floor," Brainiac said, "As for which specific room, I don't know—you go look yourself."

Gordon went upstairs—he didn't even want to complain about the floorboards' quality; a normal-weight adult stepping on the stairs actually made creaking sounds. Sure enough, this was basically a large paper shredder; the storm came just in time—he began inspecting the rooms upstairs.

But after searching, he felt something was off. The place storing these things was indeed disliked by people and dogs, but Jonathan wouldn't be careless enough to leave the fear toxin out in the open; he would definitely hide it.

Gordon originally thought he'd hide it in the walls, but now it looks like there's no space in the walls. It's like a building in a game with only wallpaper—if Brainiac slipped up once, Gordon would already have fallen into the backrooms.

Gordon thought it over and felt there really was nowhere to hide things in this building; it must be underground then. After all, people who wouldn't come here wouldn't come to the underground either, which makes sense.

Sure enough. Gordon entered through the nearest sewer inlet, first dodging a thrust from a mutant tuna, shot dead a mutant iguana, leapt over the moss secretly moved under his feet trying to make him slip, and finally clung desperately to his hat almost snatched by vines, hobbling into a maintenance room where he found crates of fear toxin.

"Thanks," Brainiac said, "These should be enough."

"What are you going to do?" Gordon asked.

"Definitely not to poison Gotham," Brainiac said, "I'm just urging the multiverse gaming platform to engage in reasonable fair competition."

Gordon couldn't be bothered with him. He was about to grab a few bottles when he thought: "Can we take these props into the game?"

"No," Brainiac said, "You can obtain information in the real world, but real-world items cannot be taken in."

"So we still have to go dig in the game world?" Gordon almost forgot about this.

"You don't need to go, because there's nothing in the game world," Brainiac said, "If I don't know where he hid it, I simply can't set it up in the game world."

Gordon widened his eyes, realizing: "So I didn't just run here for nothing?"

"Well, not exactly," Brainiac said.

But after saying that, he fell silent. Gordon sighed, returned to the surface, and re-entered the game. He shook his head and said: "Jonathan moved his fear toxin's location, Brainiac also doesn't know where he put it, so the game basically has no setup for it."

"Did you find it in the real world?" Shiler asked, "Where?"

"Gotham University Archives."

Shiler fell silent for a moment, then said: "Indeed. Last time my evaluation of fear toxin was overly sharp—he was targeting me."

"Too bad, real-world props can't be brought in, I guess I ran here for nothing." Gordon shook his head somewhat regretfully.

But Shiler said: "Not for nothing. Don't forget, the final boss's description is very much like me, so I wouldn't want to go to that place—would he be willing to go?"

Everyone was stunned, then suddenly realized.

If the final boss was truly designed based on Shiler as a blueprint, then it's very likely they share the same attributes—for example, both are Gotham University professors, both study psychology, and both dislike grading homework and revising papers.

In the real world, Shiler avoids the archives like the plague. Besides because Bruce's thesis is there, there are also those old-school hardcore psychoanalysis heavyweights who left behind sacred relics; for teachers, their destructive power is no less than the ancient scrolls in the neighboring library—just one glance feels like mental pollution, so he absolutely won't go there.

The final boss in the game might be the same. Not only would he himself not go, but the monsters under his control wouldn't go either. In other words, the northern part of Gotham University is very likely a safe zone.

That archives building in reality, built with shoddy materials and on the verge of collapse, might in the game be their refuge, a foothold for exploring Gotham University.

Realizing this, Gordon immediately perked up and said: "As long as we find a way to get to the northern side, we're good—the building inside definitely has no monsters, and maybe we can find some useful things."

Ethan also nodded and said: "So are we going now, or should we wait for the situation at Viscount Manor?"

Because Charles is there, they're also informed about the war council situation at Viscount Manor. Current progress: the investigation team sent to Blackwater Alley has already departed, but the personnel selected to dig for explosives are still being decided. Because Jack the Joker buried the explosives very cleverly—he buried them under Wayne Tower.

"I can't help but ask," Damian said, "What exactly is their relationship?"

Nightwing glanced at him somewhat strangely: "Isn't it normal for the Joker to bury explosives under Wayne Tower?"

"Yes. But Batman clearly knows the Joker buried so many explosives under Wayne Tower, yet he still dares to steal his cards—doesn't he fear being blown up?"

"What the hell." Red Hood frowned.

Damian waved his hand: "Forget it, just think I'm talking in my sleep. But Wayne Tower is very likely the location of the southern zone's final boss—that Batman-like monster might just live there."

Everyone started having headaches again. The situation is: they want to strike the Drowners, and building large-yield missiles needs gunpowder, but the gunpowder is buried under a more formidable monster's feet—isn't this a dead end?

"Let's try to steal it out," the agent said, "The Joker probably wouldn't hide explosives in a building—most likely buried underground, perhaps we can find them via the sewer network."

"The sewers are definitely full of monsters too," Dick paused, then said, "But small fry don't matter to you two—I'm just worried about regional bosses; there are definitely elite monsters in the sewers."

"It'd be best to have a superpowered person tag along," Tim thought, then said, "Ted, you go with them."

"That still isn't secure enough," the agent continued, "Among us, no one knows Gotham's sewers very well—structure and environment are unknown, so trying to tangle with monsters leaves no room."

"This is simple," Harley said, snapping her fingers, "Later I'll go offline to find Weilan—that's his hometown, he definitely knows it well."

Everyone didn't delay, immediately began tidying equipment. Harley went offline for not long, then came back online: "Weilan is in the hospital."

"What's wrong?" Tim paled. "Is he injured?"

Harley opened her mouth, seemingly not knowing what to say: "You should know crocodiles can swim, right?"

"Uh, what's wrong?"

"A storm surge terrifying to ordinary people is simply perfect activity weather for him, with a kind of beauty like reminiscing about his ancestors' living environment, recalling hardship and savoring sweetness."

"And then?"

"But he forgot that what was flooded was a modern city, not a primeval forest. Utility poles leaked electricity and shocked him into the hospital."

Tim slapped his forehead: "What does Brainiac eat for a living, patrolling that nature reserve every day, yet doesn't know to actually build a nature reserve? I'm going to contact animal protection organizations!"