Chapter 745: Dark Shadows (Part 1)

The blood on his forehead dripped into his eyes, making Batman's vision blurry. In the scarlet, he saw a hand stretched out in front of him and picked up the aperture.

Then, a pair of leather shoes came into view. The person in front of him slowly squatted down, holding the aperture in his hand, and knocked it hard on the ground. The aperture was embedded in the road surface and disappeared in half.

Batman used all his strength to roll to the side, climbed up from the ground, and panted in a half-kneeling position. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Schiller's face. He saw that the professor opposite pushed his glasses and said:

"Drinking, drunk driving, staying out all night, racing, bombing the streets, disturbing people in the middle of the night... Batman, if you are really free recently, should you consider handing in the homework you didn't hand in before?"

Batman coughed twice. He found that there was blood in his saliva, but he didn't feel any pain in his lungs. He suspected that it might be bleeding from his mouth during the previous collision. He took a deep breath, stood up, and walked towards the Batmobile a little staggeringly.

Schiller did not stop him, but watched him turn the overturned Batmobile back with great effort, and then sat back in the driver's seat.

Batman squinted his eyes and tried to step on the accelerator. The next second, a light circle was embedded in the windshield, less than ten centimeters away from Batman's nose.

In an instant, Batman was half sober.

"Professor..." Batman's voice was very low. When he spoke, his lips did not even move. The word seemed to be squeezed directly from his lungs, with a resonance that made the rain tremble.

"Where do you want to drive to?" Schiller asked, standing in front of the Batmobile. After the violent car accident just now, the lights of the Batmobile were no longer on, so Batman could not see his expression clearly.

"I want to go back to Wayne Manor." Batman replied.

"Are you going to go back like this? Do you know how old Alfred is this year? Do you know how he would feel when he saw you covered in blood?" Schiller retracted the light circle and then used it to illuminate the surroundings.

This is the highway out of Gotham, but it has not left the scope of Gotham City. However, it is no longer as prosperous as the urban area, and the sound of rain has become more obvious.

Ten minutes later, under the eaves of a nearby alley, Batman sat on the steps, holding a halo lighting in his hand, and Schiller stood behind him, wrapping a bandage around his head.

"Did you...did you see her? Did you see that..." Batman stopped when he said this, as if he was unwilling to say that word, but Schiller said directly: "Yes, I saw the body."

"That's a poor child. She has suffered a lot of abuse and excessive malnutrition, which greatly increased her probability of death. To be honest, she is lucky to be alive today."

"No." Batman shook his head and said, "I didn't take good care of her. I thought she had no ability to resist, so I didn't check her bedroom window at all. I didn't expect her to jump from there. She was already very weak. "I didn't take good care of Elsa. She scared her and caused her respiratory obstruction. When her heart stopped beating, I couldn't save her." Schiller paused and asked, "Do you blame all this on your lack of a better plan?" "Isn't it?" Schiller sighed and was about to speak when Batman said, "Yes, I should have learned more about child psychology before taking them back. I shouldn't have changed their environment so frequently. I should have used some medical methods to supplement them. Nutrition, improve physical fitness..."

"I shouldn't have brought her back to the manor alone. At least I should have let her have someone like her. I should have spent the first night with her instead of leaving her alone there and prying the window all night..."

Batman's voice began to become a little low. He said, "I thought she might run away, but I didn't expect her to jump out of the window. I didn't expect her to dare to do so. I should know that a stimulated patient will not be restricted by fear..."

"I should have told Dick and Aisha before picking her up, asking them not to scare her before she ran out and came back. After that, I should have taken measures to preserve her body temperature instead of standing there arguing with anyone..."

Batman seemed to have been holding back for a long time. Taking advantage of the drunkenness that surged up again, he spoke quickly: "Dick is the same. He doesn't want to go home because I didn't consider that he might not like the current environment, he might not want to transfer schools again and again, and he might prefer to stay with the children in the choir class..."

"There should have been a better way to solve all this. Batman wiped the blood stains from his eyes with his hand and said, "If I think about it carefully, I could have avoided these things from happening."

"Why don't you allow yourself to make mistakes?" Schiller asked.

"Because she died, it was a child, a child's life, anyone's life, should not be used as a price to pay for another person's mistake." Batman opened his mouth and said, "If Batman made a mistake, someone would die because of it, so what's the difference between that and the death of a criminal?"

"Do you want everything in this world to be in your plan? Do you hope that you will never make a mistake?" Schiller asked.

"Of course."

"What do you think drove you to make such a decision?" Schiller asked again.

Alcohol continued to erode Batman's brain. People who don't drink often are always more likely to get drunk.

Even without Schiller's hypnosis, Batman had naturally entered a hypnotic state. Various hallucinations began to appear in front of his eyes, and the bizarre scenes made him feel cold all over.

"Bats... Bats." Batman replied, "One night, a group of bats flew past the window, and I heard them tell me that you can be one of us and save the city..."

"It's fear that drives you to do this."

Schiller said that psychiatrists are very good at interpreting some strange images from patients, such as two unrelated things, a story that sounds like a fairy tale, and even those disgusting and uncomfortable fantasies, which all represent some of the patient's emotions.

Schiller asked, "You are afraid of things beyond your plan, so are you afraid of the bad results that may occur outside your plan, or are you afraid of the damage that these bad results may cause to your perfect identity?"

Batman didn't seem to understand such a long and complicated string of words. He was silent all the time, trying to get rid of the drunkenness that was surging again, but he drank too much and his efforts were useless.

"Batman? Batman?" Schiller called him, but Batman had no response. He had entered a state of blurred consciousness, commonly known as drinking to the point of blackout.

Schiller's long string of questions became the final lullaby. In a dark alley, in a night of heavy rain, Batman fell asleep just like that, which shows that he was really drunk.

The next morning, the rain stopped. Every morning in Gotham's spring is the same chilly spring. Bruce sat up from the bed. The moment he stood up, he felt a severe headache.

He turned over and got out of bed, came to the window, and after opening the window, the cold wind blew across his temples, making him feel much more sober.

Before pushing open the door, Bruce paused. He felt an unreasonable fear. He was afraid that he would not see Alfred after opening the door.

But after a few seconds, he still pushed open the door, and then he heard the crackling sound of the burning wood in the fireplace.

This made him feel relieved. When he came to the stairs, he saw Alfred holding a duster to clean the dust on the phone.

He put on the deerskin gloves that Bruce hadn't seen for a long time, which made his movements look less flexible, but Bruce still held the hand on the armrest more tightly. In the cold air, an emotion began to brew.

"Oh, Master, are you awake? Good morning, breakfast is ready, you can go to eat." Alfred said to Bruce with a smile, as if nothing happened last night.

But Bruce's memory told him that a lot of things happened yesterday, and he must know the result now, so he asked: "Where is Aisha? Is she back?"

"Yes, the lady is back, Master, she didn't run far away, I brought her back, but after I came back, I didn't see you, so I sent her to bed." Alfred still smiled and answered.

As soon as he finished speaking, he heard a series of tiny footsteps coming from behind.

Elsa, in her pajamas, ran down the stairs, rushed directly to the dining table, pulled out a chair, jumped on it, sat down, picked up the knife and fork, licked her lips, and looked back at Alfred.

Alfred smiled and guided Bruce to the dining table. Bruce wanted to say something to Aisha, but at this time, Aisha had already started to eat hard. Alfred stood behind him and said with a smile

"Miss Aisha had a strenuous exercise last night. When she came back, she started to feel hungry, but because it was too late, eating was not good for the body, so she might be a little hungry now."

Seeing this, Bruce didn't say anything else. He also started to eat breakfast, but during the meal, he felt that something was missing. He put down his fork and asked: "Alfred, where is today's newspaper?"

Alfred, holding the duster, moved his fingers slightly. He said: "Sorry, sir, I got up a little late today, and the newspaper has not been ironed yet, but today's newspaper is still promoting the Angelica Troupe and their new play "Macbeth"..."

"By the way, sir." Alfred suddenly raised his voice a little. He said: "This is the first performance of a formal troupe in Gotham in ten years. The dignitaries of the whole city will be there. You really should go and see it. Do you want me to help you, Master Dick and Miss Aisha book tickets?"

Bruce looked down at his plate and said, "No, I won't go. You book a ticket for Selina, Dick and Aisha and let them go together."

Alfred nodded and said nothing more. When Alfred finished breakfast and took Aisha to the backyard for exercise, Bruce frowned.

The newspaper is not ironed? Bruce would not believe this. In the decades that Alfred has worked for the Wayne family, he has never eaten breakfast without ironing the newspaper.

On this point, Alfred himself is even more persistent than the members of the Wayne family. No one can shake the old man's obsession with letting the members of the Wayne family know the latest news.

Bruce came to the back of the hall. Through the window, he saw Alfred playing with Aisha. Bruce left along the corridor of the restaurant, bypassed the hall all the way, and came to the ironing room on the side.

Alfred usually irons things here, including clothes, gloves and newspapers. The newspapers delivered by the newsboy must be put here as soon as they are taken out of the mailbox.

However, Bruce searched for a long time and found no trace of the newspaper, so he returned to the hall, walked out of the gate, pushed open the gate of the manor, opened the mailbox, and looked inside.

There was nothing in the mailbox, Bruce frowned, closed the door of the mailbox again, and began to look around the street.

Just then, the neighbor of Wayne Manor just went out.

Not far from Wayne Manor, there lived a mother and daughter. The mother was the widow of a wealthy businessman on the East Coast, but because of her stronger business ability, the family was even more prosperous than when her husband was there, so he was honored as Mrs. Goethe, and her daughter was Miss Goethe.

Both of them were dressed the same, wearing the most fashionable woolen coats for ladies now, with a pair of bright boots, and wearing scarves and hats of the same color as the boots, and holding a handbag in their hands.

Bruce retreated to the yard of the manor, stood behind the bushes, and listened to their chat.

Mrs. Goeth spoke first: "If you hadn't insisted on going, I wouldn't have sat down to eat with those smelly dock workers. Wasn't last night's experience bad enough?"

"Don't say that, Mom. Look at how stupid they are. Some girls my age can only stare at my boots. Also, didn't you see the way those women who call themselves ladies in the East District look at you?"

"Hmph, don't play these little tricks with me. You just want to meet little Werther. I already know that the boy is not a good person, but his family is still respectable. If you meet Mr. Werther today, you'd better be reserved..."

"Got it, Mom. What topic do you think is suitable for opening? Should I talk to them about the recent drama first?" Miss Goeth's voice was a little nervous.

"Silly girl." Mrs. Gode scolded, "The play hasn't started yet, what are you going to talk about? Didn't you read the newspaper this morning? Of course you should talk to Mr. White from out of town about our local specialty, the famous Batman."

"Alas, what's his point? He's just a hypocritical rich man, isn't it all said in the newspaper? He took the name of helping beggar children and brought them all to his base for fun. It's really disgusting. I heard that a child died. He is really..."

Mrs. Gode quickly covered her mouth and said, "Stop talking like that. That's not a topic for a lady like you to talk about. Let those dirty people... Men talk, isn't that enough? "

The mother and daughter whispered and walked quickly through the yard of Wayne Manor. From the gap in the shrub wall, Bruce saw that Mrs. Goethe covered her mouth with a handkerchief and looked up and down at Wayne Manor, and said to her daughter:

"If you ask me, Little Wayne is the best candidate. Playboy? That is the least worthy condition for choosing a spouse. If you can marry Little Wayne, I will definitely go to church every week to thank God!"

The footsteps of high heels gradually faded away, and Bruce's expression became cold. He walked along the wall of the yard to the back of Wayne Manor, avoiding Alfred's sight, and climbed over the wall neatly.

There are also two manors behind Wayne Manor, but because the South District is a newly built wealthy area, the buildings are not as dense as those in the West District. Bruce walked through a street and turned a corner before finding another family's mailbox.

Bruce knew that the male owner of this house was allergic to ink, so although they subscribed to newspapers, they never read them. Bruce once heard the newspaper boy complain that when he delivered the new newspaper, the previous day's newspaper was still in the mailbox.

Bruce looked around and found that there was no one around. He reached out and pried open the mailbox of this family and took out a newspaper.

After closing the mailbox, Bruce walked two corners and found an empty corner. He opened the newspaper and began to read it carefully.

In fact, there was no need to read it very carefully, because the headline on the front page had a line of big words:

"Batman? Go to your Gotham hero!"

Bruce frowned and looked at the subtitle, which read: "Batman kidnaps young children, a cruel child killer in the guise of a hero!"

The main text contains a lot of content, but it mainly introduces how Batman rescued begging children in the name of rescue, how he took them away, and persecuted them to death in a sequential timeline.

Among them, four photos are provided in chronological order. The first one is his figure flashing in a dark alley. Bruce remembers that there is a piece of iron sheet on the gap between this alley and another alley. Three children, including the little girl, used to live there.

The second picture shows Batman standing on a tall building, but due to the angle and background, he doesn't look like a hero, but a killer looking for an opportunity to commit a crime.

The third and fourth pictures are both close-up shots, and the shape of Batman's mask can be clearly seen.

Batman has been in Gotham for so long, and it's not that there are no newspapers paying attention to him. There have been reporters who risked their lives to take pictures of him at night in Gotham, but generally speaking, they would be caught on the spot by Batman and the tools used in the crime would be confiscated.

Few newspapers would publish news about him. After all, no one would want to deal with a weirdo in tights who roams Gotham in the middle of the night. Gangs are reasonable after all, but if it's a mental patient, then it's really hard to explain.

But this time, this news occupied an entire page of the Gotham Morning Post.

This article is sharp in writing, sophisticated in narration, and highly provocative. More importantly, it accurately captures the psychology of Gotham people -

Compared to creating gods, these lunatics prefer to see gods fall.

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