Chapter 990

Although Batman suspected this was yet another of Shiler’s schemes, he still had to rescue him—because it was General Rotheart who had taken Shiler, and he would have to confront General Rotheart sooner or later.

Moreover, Shiler’s previous state of weakness had left a shadow in his mind—he didn’t know what had caused Shiler’s sudden, inexplicable condition, nor whether it would impair his performance when facing a powerful demon general.

Merkel immediately wanted to charge into the tunnel and face General Rotheart head-on, but Batman grabbed him and said in a low voice: “Now isn’t the time to pursue. General Rotheart didn’t come alone—if we go after him, we’ll walk straight into an encirclement.”

“But… but…” Merkel stamped his foot in agitation, gritting his teeth: “It’s all my fault—if I hadn’t chopped down that broccoli, Mr. Shiler’s allergy wouldn’t have gotten this bad!”

“Do you really believe his current condition is purely due to an allergy?” Batman asked as he pulled Merkel back.

Merkel opened his mouth, then hesitated: “I can’t reveal my employer’s private matters… Well, given the circumstances, don’t you think Mr. Shiler has become a bit… more—how to put it? More insane?”

Batman looked at him, and Merkel went on: “When I first met Mr. Shiler, I noticed he was a bit rigid, quiet, yet reliable—I’ve met many such men in England.”

“He’s an enthusiast of detective fiction, fond of crafting elaborate puzzles and solving them himself—sometimes he’d ask me to solve them too, but I always broke through by force. I never imagined he could tolerate me for so long.”

“Though he seems serious, his temperament isn’t eccentric—he interacts with everyone with proper restraint. But…” Merkel paused, as if unsure whether speaking this way about his employer was appropriate, yet he continued: “Haven’t you noticed? Mr. Shiler’s mental state has become increasingly unstable.”

“This broccoli incident was merely the trigger. There were plenty of warning signs before this,” Merkel said, shaking his head.

Batman carefully recalled—and realized it was true. When he first began dealing with Shiler, Shiler was a somewhat responsible professor, but no different from most university lecturers: show up for class, leave after class, barely interact with any student.

Batman remembered: in his first semester, he deliberately sabotaged his grades, but Shiler didn’t care. In the second semester, he deliberately completed one course’s credits to create the impression he’d cheated, reinforcing his playboy persona—but Shiler said nothing.

But he only enjoyed that freedom for two years. Starting in his third year, Shiler inexplicably began cracking down on grades—not just Bruce Wayne’s, but every student’s, driving them all to exhaustion.

Logically, the first two years are the most crucial for laying foundations; it makes no sense to let students slack off then, only to suddenly demand high GPAs when they’re nearly done with coursework and about to intern.

By the fourth year, things became even more uncontrollable. Shiler developed an obsessive fixation on thesis writing. During thesis discussions, Batman noticed he grew increasingly obsessive, often forcing Batman to revise for hours over punctuation, paragraph structure, or word choice.

At the time, Batman assumed Shiler was trying to stop him from becoming a street hero.

But later, he learned Shiler wasn’t tormenting just him—he used nearly all his free time to subject every student capable of writing a thesis to these endless, mutual sufferings.

It truly was mutual torment: both Batman and the students themselves knew they could never pursue such a professional path. They lacked the talent, and wouldn’t dedicate the effort—there was no chance of achievement. Yet Shiler still demanded impossibly high professional standards from them, which was utterly meaningless.

Batman couldn’t be sure he himself was ill, but he was certain Shiler was.

Currently, it seemed more like an autism spectrum presentation, occasionally accompanied by anxiety-driven compulsive behaviors.

Had Shiler’s mental illness worsened? Batman pondered as he walked back. Though doctors cannot cure themselves, no event seemed likely to cause Shiler’s mental state to deteriorate continuously.

Still, he agreed with Merkel’s point: that the broccoli incident causing Shiler’s collapse wasn’t accidental.

More likely, long-accumulated psychological pressure had reached a breaking point, triggering an extreme stress response that manifested in such severe external symptoms.

Thinking this, Batman quickened his pace and returned with Merkel to the troop cave, where he reported what they’d seen to Alfred.

Alfred nodded: “Indeed, we must act swiftly against General Rotheart. As long as he remains in the mine, we cannot develop our power in peace.”

“The overall situation in Hell is changing rapidly. Beelzebub hasn’t employed the alliance-and-betrayal strategy we expected—he’s declared war simultaneously on several neighboring nations. Not all generals support this decision; internal tensions are growing.”

“Only in chaos can a king rise. We must seize this opportunity,” Alfred said, fixing his gaze on Batman. “This may be the only chance you’ll ever have to personally participate in a large-scale, organized military campaign. For anyone studying military theory, it’s an irreplaceable opportunity.”

Batman nodded—he knew well the war’s importance. All three understood: demons’ affairs had nothing to do with humans. No matter how noble their ideals, they sought to liberate all humanity, not all of Hell or Heaven.

Yet they joined this war partly to fulfill their ideals: since certain things were impossible in the real world, testing their theories in another way offered them a profound chance to refine their thinking.

And partly to give Batman a chance to train. Though his earlier assumptions resembled paranoid delusions, after learning of the vastness of the world and the existence of magic, Batman felt a premonition—he would one day have to step into a broader realm and experience grand epic wars firsthand.

By then, it would be too late. When such a disaster strikes humanity, every second is a matter of life or death—he must possess decisive, overwhelming capability.

Once Batman made up his mind, few could stop him. He took charge of strategy and tactics, becoming de facto commander of the mine forces; Merkel handled ideological guidance and troop training, acting as the mine forces’ political commissar.

Batman had intended to assign Alfred ideological guidance, but Alfred shook his head and offered the role to Merkel, explaining: “Regardless, I am a spy. For decades, my thinking has leaned toward intelligence warfare.”

“I’m not incapable of shifting my mindset—but I fear unfinished business in the real world still demands my attention. If my thinking changes and affects a critical decision, the consequences could be catastrophic.”

“In contrast, Merkel has achieved nothing notable in espionage. He favors solo operations—but that makes him a blank slate. If he can develop the ability to unite troops in large-scale warfare, it won’t interfere with his current work and will lay a foundation for the future.”

Batman nodded in understanding. Alfred had once been brilliant—capable of competing with Philby. His espionage skills were undoubtedly flawless. After half a lifetime, certain mental patterns had hardened—but this wasn’t entirely bad.

Years of espionage cultivate sharp intuition and conditioned reflexes. Sometimes, these unconscious instincts can save lives.

But under extreme pressure, forcibly changing one’s mindset might erode those precious instincts. If they’re needed later, it could be disastrous.

Though Batman hoped Alfred would never again engage in dangerous work, he knew he couldn’t stop a man like him.

Whether Merkel or Alfred, after learning their ideals, Batman knew he had no chance of persuading them.

So Alfred took charge of logistics. Demons didn’t need food, drink, or sanitation—but equipment manufacturing, trap construction, and intelligence reconnaissance were vital. Alfred was highly skilled in all of it.

With basic roles assigned, the three worked methodically. Batman, though lacking practical experience in strategy and tactics, possessed top-tier theoretical knowledge and intellect. Alfred handled logistics—no one understood logistics better than Batman’s butler.

Only Merkel seemed slightly inexperienced—he had no practical background in ideological guidance or troop training. But fortunately, he learned quickly.

Moreover, his physical prowess and prior professional knowledge allowed him to train a capable elite squad—effective for both reconnaissance and combat.

The central mine had completely collapsed, but the Second, Third, and Fifth mines were now connected. The Fifth Mine, the second-largest, had a vast cavern suitable for troop billeting and training.

With the three mines linked, their defensive depth increased. Batman’s tunnel warfare tactics, after better coordination and practice, became even more effective. Soon, the Fourth Mine—previously held by a small demon garrison—was captured.

But the Sixth and Seventh Mines, being closer to General Rotheart’s troop station, were immediately seized by his main force after the central mine’s fall. The Sixth Mine still had some room for maneuver, but the Seventh Mine was the hardest nut to crack.

It housed General Rotheart’s castle and the Great Eye. After Shiler was taken, the tunnels they’d dug were completely destroyed. General Rotheart had laid magical arrays underground to counter tunnel warfare and stationed heavy troops, building a large defensive encampment nearby.

Attacking from the surface would face the same problems as the central mine. Batman stood before the sand table, staring at the Seventh Mine. After mentally reviewing all possible tactics, he realized: there was no shortcut to taking the Seventh Mine.

Then, a hard battle lay ahead.