Chapter 970: The Tower Battle (Part Two)

“Wasn’t it just that one time we didn’t let him board the ship? Does he really need to drag us all into hell with him? That’s way too petty!” Marvel Shiler complained: “And he dumped us right in the middle of the battlefield before vanishing.”

“You should be grateful he took the most troublesome one with him.” The Superego stood by the window, watching the chaos beneath the Tower, adjusting his glasses: “I told you before—he’s one of the most unstable traits. But I can’t blame him.”

“Originally, I never intended to split Pride into two halves. But I knew this world was dangerous, and dealing with Batman might demand a price—so I sent half of Pride ahead to test the waters. As expected, he got infected by the Joker virus.”

“We already have enough bizarre personalities in here; one more Joker wouldn’t hurt. But I didn’t expect the transformation to happen so fast. I thought it would take a long time. Instead, the moment he met Batman, that fragment went rogue.”

“The other fragment was never processed—it was just thrown straight into service. His mental state is far from stable…” The Superego shook his head. Marvel Shiler snorted: “I’ve known that since the first time he retaliated for me breaking his umbrella.”

“Come on, we’re the same person—how can you retaliate against yourself? Back then, I already knew he was mentally unstable!”

“Originally, the traits that rose to the surface to take control of the body should have been the most stable, the ones best adapted to ordinary human society—like you. You show no signs of mental illness, yet you navigate human society with ease…” The Superego said.

“But Gotham’s nature means too ordinary a trait becomes alien. Only negative traits can handle it. Pride was the ideal candidate—but unfortunately, the Joker virus infected half of it, leaving only the other half.”

“The trait was already unstable, and now it’s been weakened…” The Superego shook his head: “That’s why I kept him off the ship—he wasn’t mentally stable enough. One strong stimulus, and he’d lose control completely.”

“I never thought we’d fight the Green of All Things. In the end, he went insane from a severe broccoli allergy.”

“So he’s completely insane?” Marvel Shiler asked. The Superego shrugged: “He’s always been insane. This time, he’s just insane worse—because I wouldn’t let him board the ship, he dumped us all in hell… and specifically dropped us here. He probably wanted to watch us get surrounded by demons.”

“He’s not insane—he’s just petty to the extreme.” Marvel Shiler snorted: “He shouldn’t represent Pride. He represents grudges.”

With that, he turned back to the window. After a period of observation and standoff, the two demonic armies seemed finally ready to launch a probe.

Numerous shadow-like demons surged toward them. Marvel Shiler rubbed his chin: “Should we let those fighting maniacs loose? I think they’ve been cooped up long enough.”

“Keep them locked down.” The Superego turned, glanced at the scene below, then nodded toward Marvel Shiler: “Instead, you—and all the traits skilled in calculation, finance, operations, and strategy—report to the second-floor conference room.”

Marvel Shiler blinked. “Why? You’re not seriously planning to send us civilians to fight demons, are you?”

The Superego snorted, staring at him: “You’re a complete trait, spending your days in Marvel’s safe little world, slacking off and loafing around. Your efficiency doesn’t even match half a Pride fragment.”

“If you don’t start using your brains, you’ll regress into idiots.”

Watching the Superego enter the elevator, Marvel Shiler shook his head: “It’s not that Marvel’s too safe—it’s that Gotham people are just too dark.”

A while later, in a large conference room on the second floor, the seats were packed with Shilers, many whispering to each other.

“What’s going on? Why did they call us all out?”

“You don’t know? The Mind Palace is surrounded by demons. Word is, that petty Pride dumped us all into hell…”

“No wonder. I always said that guy had a screw loose…”

“But if we’re surrounded by demons, why call us? We’re civil servants—we think for a living. Shouldn’t we send the brute-force types to fight demons?”

“You’re not talking about that brat… Never mind, I shouldn’t say that about myself—but he really is a brat…”

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“Don’t expect me to go punch those demons—I represent Conspiracy. This should be left to Violence or Aggression…”

“Quiet!” The Superego tapped the podium table, cleared his throat, and spoke: “You’ve all seen the situation—we’re surrounded by demons. Someone must step forward and break this siege.”

“Stop making those silly faces. Last time in Marvel, it was always the combat-oriented traits who went out to work. How much longer are you planning to stay on vacation?”

A wave of discontent erupted below. The Superego tapped the table again: “Silence! Listen to me!”

“Everyone, look here…” The Superego snapped his fingers. Behind him, a massive screen appeared, displaying fragments of Shiler’s memories.

“These are the power structures and demon lords of DC Hell, as seen in the comics. Now, everyone, come up and draw lots. The demon lord you draw becomes your exam subject…”

“Soon, I’ll throw you all out. Each of you must find your assigned demon lord. Over the coming period, you must assist your respective lord to victory in war.”

No sooner had the Superego finished than a louder uproar broke out. He scanned the room until silence fell, then spoke: “You’ve noticed—the trait that usually rises to the surface, Pride, has developed some instability. He may need a period of leave.”

“The winner of this exam will replace Pride during his leave, becoming one of the traits with the authority to surface at will.”

Instantly, the room erupted. All traits were thrilled—long-term control of the body meant they could finally exert their full influence and reshape the world.

Even if they didn’t become permanent controllers, at least they’d witness the entire arc of the event, see the fruits of their labor—far better than occasional surface missions with no endings, or cleaning up after other traits’ messes.

After the initial clamor, the room fell into eerie silence. Everyone returned to their seats. Some checked their watches. Others adjusted their ties. Glances darted sideways, eyes wary—now, they were all rivals.

“Now, I’ll announce the exam rules…” The Superego lowered his head, reading from his file:

“Since the exam takes place in Hell and your clients are demons, all rooms related to morality and ethics in the Tower are temporarily closed. Alliances and betrayals are permitted—but remember: only one winner…”

Inside the Tower, traits sharpened their wits. Outside, demons bristled with battle-lust. A crimson-skinned demon with four arms rode atop a flying creature resembling a manta ray—flat-bodied, winged, with a sharp tail.

This was Astaroth’s elite unit: the Fly-Spear Troops. The Fly-Spear Knights rode atop Fly-Spear Demons, who could fold their wings to shield their riders and charge at high speed, disrupting enemy formations.

The four-armed crimson demon spoke: “Lord Astaroth has issued his command: we must push our front line past this Tower before nightfall. The land beneath our feet shall be our new fief!”

“All units! Prepare for assault!”

As he shouted, the demons below roared in unison. But the demon general narrowed his eyes, staring at a row of tiny black dots suddenly appearing on the horizon. “What is that? Are those Belial’s secret weapons?”

“Wait—vanguard units! Halt! That looks like… a group of people?!! By Satan’s name, they’re coming out of the Tower!”

“Report, General!” A ghost-like demon drifted forward: “You ordered reconnaissance to monitor the Tower. Just now, we spotted many identical figures pouring out of it—now scattering in all directions. Should we open fire?”

“No, hold your fire. You say humans are fleeing from the Tower? Relay the order: capture them. Lord Astaroth has great interest in this Tower. If we take prisoners, he’ll reward us handsomely!”

With a wave of his hand, the reconnaissance unit surged forward. Soon, a Shiler in a long ceremonial robe was brought before the demon general.

The demon general blinked, then asked: “Who are you? What’s your connection to that Tower? Why did you flee from it?”

“Greetings, General. I am Shiler Rodriguez. Are you one of Lord Astaroth’s Four Generals?”

“You’ve heard of me?” The demon general narrowed his eyes, dismounting his steed and approaching Shiler.

Demons were typically much taller than humans. This general wasn’t among the tallest, yet he still stood over three meters tall, his four thick arms making him appear immensely powerful.

Yet Shiler showed no fear. He smiled, placed a hand over his chest, and bowed: “Greetings, General. Your fame echoes throughout all of Hell.”

“I know Lord Astaroth has many questions about this sudden Tower. And I am the one who can answer them.” Shiler met the demon general’s gaze:

“Believe me—killing me and devouring my soul brings you less than delivering me alive to Lord Astaroth.”

"Believe me, sending me to Duke Astro will bring you greater benefits than devouring my soul here."