Chapter 610

In an instant, the group of black monsters was swallowed by the energy geyser erupting from the umbrella's tip; Elsa, who had been opening her mouth below, waiting for her meal, saw the heavenly pie vanish and burst into tears.

Dick quickly picked her up and began soothing her, while Constantine dismantled the magical array and turned to Shi Ler: "You can use magic too? You never mentioned this before."

"And why does your magic feel so strange? What was that you just shouted? A incantation?"

"Nothing important. I don't need incantations." Shi Ler seemed to have satisfied some peculiar sense of accomplishment—his mood visibly improved. He sat back down on the sofa, stood the umbrella upright before him, and placed both hands on its handle.

"From what I know, magic requiring incantations is usually powerful. Where did you learn this? Teach me, how about it?" Constantine leaned closer to Shi Ler.

In truth, Shi Ler didn't know magic at all—he had simply unleashed all the wool-energy he had previously stored within the gray mist, stolen from Nal.

Without using certain occult methods to harness this energy, it could achieve only one effect.

If Shi Ler had used this energy to blast an actual owl in the real world, the owl's soul would have been ripped from its body and scattered; if the soul was strong enough, it could simply evade or defend itself—there was no magic's versatility here.

Whether it was the demonic deities or the sorcerers of the Marvel universe, to utilize this energy efficiently, they had to process it through special means—the so-called "spells."

Energy is like bullets; spells are like guns. Shi Ler had no gun and couldn't build one. If he threw bullets at people, he'd barely cause damage—and waste them terribly.

But for the dark owls, which had no physical bodies and whose energy was too weak, this impact was lethal.

"Point Guard Here"

Any energy wanting to form a specific shape must have structure. Shi Ler's act of blasting this energy stream at the dark owls was equivalent to using another unknown energy to completely disrupt their energy structure—thus erasing them.

As for that incantation—no one could resist shouting such words when holding something in hand and casting magic.

Even though Shi Ler couldn't control the energy to form an animal shape, he was still satisfied. After all, enemies that perfectly met all release conditions were rare. If he cast a spell and the target showed no reaction, it would look ridiculous.

Shi Ler took Elsa, who was still crying in Bruce's arms, and stroked her back: "Alright, I took your meal—but we can find more."

Elsa sniffled, wiped nonexistent tears with her hands, squirmed out of Shi Ler's arms, looked up, opened her mouth, and tried to keep singing.

"No, wait." Shi Ler picked her up again. This time, Elsa wasn't happy—she kicked and flailed wildly, trying to escape. But Shi Ler ignored her, handed her to Alfred, and once in Alfred's arms, she calmed down.

Alfred took Elsa to bed. Dick, however, was left behind. Shi Ler patted his head: "Last time, when I tutored you, you told me you joined the church choir?"

Dick nodded. He had just seen those terrifying monsters in the array and said, voice trembling: "Sorry… I shouldn't have sung that song…"

"It's fine. To fit in with the choir, you really need to learn to sing." Shi Ler turned to Constantine: "I have a plan…"

After nearly a year, Gotham Cathedral was finally refurbished—just as Bruce had promised the old priest: he paid to completely renovate the entire cathedral.

He also used numerous bat devices to protect the underground wine pool, with such strong safeguards that, aside from Batman himself, no earthquake or natural disaster could damage it.

Today, Gotham Cathedral was bustling again after a long absence. Old Priest Daniel led a group of children inside. They chattered noisily; the one in front wore a jacket, his expression defiant. He crossed his arms and said to another slightly older boy:

"Dick, what are you kidding? If the other gangs find out I joined some stupid church choir, I'll be finished!"

"Jason, can you stop thinking about fighting all the time?" Dick sighed. "You should join some social activities. Even if you don't believe in God, taking a day off to come sing a little won't hurt."

Jason snorted. "You don't get it—everybody in the Tail Gang is swamped. We're now handling newspaper delivery along three streets near Living Hell, and some younger kids have to sell flowers at the small square beside Green Street…"

"Just organizing them eats up my whole day. Where's the time to come here and sing?"

"It's not just you," Dick patted Jason's shoulder. "Look—those kids from the Vocational School are here too. Even the heads of the street newsboys came. Even Cobblepot showed up."

Jason turned back and saw Cobblepot, Tire, and Red Truck—the slightly older kids—walking at the back, pushing the younger ones forward?

He scoffed. "Fine. But don't expect anything. I've got zero musical talent. When I sing, you better plug your ears."

"No problem. I know the nun who'll teach us. I'll ask her to be patient with you."

"A nun?" Jason frowned. "Gotham only has one priest. When did we get a nun?"

"You forgot? The middle school I attended was a church school. She's one of their nuns."

"Oh, them." Jason clearly knew—most church schools on the East Coast had clergy who were different from church priests and also served as teachers.

Jason clearly had no interest in these clergy. Reluctantly, he climbed onto the choir platform and jostled with his companions, laughing and shoving.

Old Priest Daniel wasn't upset. Gotham Cathedral hadn't felt this fresh or lively in a long time—it reminded him of his youth. He simply smiled and stood aside, not scolding the mischievous children.

The teacher who stepped forward was an elderly nun, only slightly younger than Daniel. She carried a music stand to the center of the platform and began speaking in a rhythmic tone: "Alright, children. Let's learn the lyrics first. Follow me: The Owl Court… watches your every move…"

The children had clearly been briefed. Though they didn't understand why they'd suddenly switched from learning skills to music, they were curious—none of them had ever taken any art classes before. The first time doing something always felt fresh.

"The Owl Court… watches your every move…" They chanted messily. Some words were too hard, so they skipped them. Others changed the lyrics. Some even swore.

But the music nun had clearly been briefed too. She didn't mind. Instead, she demonstrated by singing the song herself.

This nun was a former professional choir member. Even the most difficult original version flowed smoothly from her lips, with a touch of ornamentation—both precise and beautiful.

Below, along the cathedral's floor, beside the wine pool, was another room. Flames flickered everywhere; several figures stood within a spiritual vision magical array. Bruce rubbed his chin: "No sign of those monsters. Does this song not affect adults?"

"That's normal," Constantine explained. "Certain occult meanings only affect specific groups—even down to age, gender, or physical traits. For example, demons prefer to make deals with people whose pupils are green. It's not just superstition."

The group watched in the underground room for a long time, but no matter how the old nun sang, no monsters appeared.

After hours of teaching, the children finally began their first choir. The first chorus was chaotic—some didn't remember the lyrics, others sang off-key. For the first three seconds, it was impossible to tell what they were singing.

But the moment they opened their mouths, the world within spiritual vision changed. The black owls began appearing in the air. Simultaneously, Shi Ler flashed to the rooftop of Gotham Cathedral.

The newly rebuilt cathedral's rooftop had a platform, originally meant for Gothic spires—but Bruce had removed them overnight. Shi Ler instantly dispersed into gray mist, every particle of mist infused with the energy stolen from Nal.

Instantly, the gray mist enveloped all the dark owls, consuming their energy entirely.

Shi Ler flashed back. "Theoretically, it works. This energy can be absorbed. But it's incompatible with my own. I can only store it, not use it. We need another place to store it."

Shi Ler spoke the truth. This energy from the DC universe differed from Marvel's fundamental energy. When stored together in the gray mist, they conflicted.

Right now, the amount of dark energy is small, so it's manageable. But if both energies become equal in quantity, problems may arise.

Shi Ler thought for a moment. "I've already verified one law: the 'Color Compatibility' theory. Green energy can be stored in green objects—Green Lantern energy can be stored in Kryptonite crystals."

"So black energy should be storable in black objects. The dark owls' energy could be stored in…"

Shi Ler was pondering what was black when suddenly, Bruce saw him slowly turn his head—and his gaze fixed on Bruce.

But as his eyes landed on Bruce's face, Shi Ler paused—as if remembering something—then shifted his gaze downward, settling on Batman's armor. He asked:

"How's your Arc Reactor research coming along?"