Chapter 1772 S Apocalypse Event (Forty)

Chapter 1746 S Apocalypse Event (Forty)

"You, are you the previous Mr. Joker?"

Spider-Man looked at the familiar smile and asked uncertainly. At the same time, he became alert because it seemed that the body used by the Joker was much stronger than him, and judging from his dress, he looked more like a member of the Kids Gang. They were not easy to mess with.

"Of course, I am." The smiling boy nodded and said, "How could I miss Batman's game invitation? It looks like you are not doing well, boy."

Spider-Man rubbed his stomach and sat on the ground. He didn't eat anything today. The emptiness in his stomach gradually turned into a burning pain. His weak limbs made it impossible for him to stand properly.

"I don't know what's wrong with this damn city. This is worse than the streets full of homeless people I saw in the Bronx." Spider-Man rubbed his face with his hands and said, "The order brought by the gangs is really terrible. No one cares about the weak. Everything is left to fend for itself..."

"But if I tell you that this is actually the best time for Gotham, what would you think?" The Joker asked, leaning against the telephone pole.

"What do you mean?" Spider-Man was a little confused.

"Now is the era when the gang order still exists." The Joker lowered his head and played with his fingers and said: "There are often fights on the streets, but there are no large-scale bombings and robberies. Adults are always dying, but soon someone will replace him. Many children are starving to death, but there will always be strong ones who survive and become a member of the gang."

"Isn't this bad enough?" Spider-Man asked.

"Far from enough." The Joker shook his head and said: "The worst thing is that the gangs have disappeared, and then it will be the era of madmen. Everything at that time will be ten thousand times worse than you can imagine."

"What will happen then?" Spider-Man swallowed his saliva and said.

"Crazy people are recklessly carrying out bombings because no one can punish them. Adults can kill other adults just because they are in a bad mood because they know that the police are useless. Children are bought and sold at will. They have no freedom and self-will at all. They are just raw materials for something. They will never have the opportunity to form any small groups and have no ability to fight back."

"Too crazy." Spider-Man clenched his fists, staring at the Joker and said, "And you are one of the crazy ones."

"No, I am just a product of madness." The Joker looked into Spider-Man's eyes and said, "It is Batman who created madness. Batman."

"You always slander him." Spider-Man took a deep breath and said, "I know the world is bad, but if you say that he is worse than you if he doesn't save the world, then this is complete nonsense. You can't use any of Batman's actions to wash away the guilt you have committed."

"I'm just explaining a fact to you." The Joker came over, put the bag of bread in front of Spider-Man and said, "Do you know? It was Batman who ended the gang order of Falcone."

"Is he here?" Spider-Man didn't even look at the bag of bread, but raised his head and stared at the Joker and asked.

"Of course, maybe we can witness history again." The Joker smiled again and said the longest paragraph so far today.

"Just now, the dilemma given to you by reality revealed its sinisterness for the first time, and Batman experienced the consequences twenty years ago."

"Without ending the era of gangsters, children like you will always live under the oppression of violence and terror, and similar tragedies will continue to occur. But if the era of gangsters is ended, the final order will be completely destroyed, and the city will fall into the abyss."

"The Batman I know chose the latter."

Spider-Man stared at the Joker blankly, waiting for his answer after the long shadow at the end of the sentence, and it was as he expected, the Joker said.

"For you, for you who he saw in the dark street corners when he first wanted to be a superhero."

Spider-Man loosened his clenched fists, sat on the ground and stared at the bread thrown to him by the Joker, while the Joker squatted on the ground, propped up his cheek with his hand and said: "You think Batman can't deal with me and criminals like me in this city because he is not firm enough or he has found the wrong way."

"But the ridiculous thing about reality is that there is no right way at all. The hero just has the courage to face the consequences of his own choices after making the wrong choices, and Batman's madness is In fact, he is just an ordinary person who has been as powerless as you are now for decades. He thought he had a choice in the face of reality, but he didn't. "

"So I said he was a madman. Why should he bear the consequences of a choice that has no correct answer at all? Why is he so arrogant that he thinks he can atone for the darkness that this reality brings to everyone? Why doesn't he admit that everything I said is true, give up vigilance and repentance, and really smile? "

The Joker stood up, walked in front of Spider-Man, held his face with both hands, pressed the corners of Spider-Man's mouth and pushed them up, making Spider-Man show a false smile.

"Do you think you are responsible for the death of your companions?"

Spider-Man froze, and then trembled all over.

Only then did he realize that all the words the Joker said were just to remove his defense, and the final words were like a sharp sword that pierced his heart.

The Joker left, and the posture of putting away the sword was as elegant as a swordsman, but Spider-Man followed his heartbeat and heard the words heard from the hollow heartbeat in the empty beat of his heartbeat - "Why should I be responsible?"

He was no longer the powerful Spider-Man, but a child who was injured, hungry, and could not even guarantee his own safety. What he faced was a problem that countless adults in this city could not solve, and it was a problem that heroes could only repent for because of their defeat. If he said that he was not responsible, who could blame him?

His weakness would be his best reason to retreat. That was the retreat that Spider-Man, a superhero, had never had. He tried his best. Fate played tricks on people, and reality was cruel. This would be the best excuse for him to let himself go.

What if he didn't let himself go?

Spider-Man thought of Batman in the Joker's mouth. He made his own choice in the dilemma of reality, and then faced the consequences of this choice in the next twenty years, and tried his best to redeem it.

But he didn't need to embarrass himself at all, because no matter what choice he made, it was wrong. He was not even a hero with superpowers. Why not accept his weakness with peace of mind, and give up the meaningless responsibilities imposed on him by the absurdity of this reality, so that he could smile with relief?

The touch of the Joker's fingers was still on Spider-Man's face. He just had to raise the corners of his mouth along with this force, smile and sigh as if he felt sorry for the girl, and then he could put all the sadness and heaviness behind him and start a new life.

Why not? Spider-Man thought with his eyes closed. He stood up, took the bag of bread, and staggered back to the house.

"Why did you kill Falcone?"

In a corner of the abandoned factory, a little boy chewed a mouthful of bread and asked another older boy vaguely, while the black-haired boy just sat there silently, with no expression on his face, as serious as a statue.

"I didn't kill Falcone."

"But you didn't save him either." The little boy wiped the bread crumbs on his mouth and said, "Dick told me that you actually knew that Maroni was going to do it at that time, and you had the ability to stop him."

"I didn't need to stop him. These were two evil gang members fighting each other. I didn't need to save any of them." The black-haired boy's tone was flat and without any emotion. It didn't sound like he was chatting, but more like he was being interrogated.

"Right? That's what you did." The little boy holding the bread shrugged and said, "The gang is gone, and worse things are coming. You deserve it."

The little boy took the water bottle next to him and gulped down a few gulps of water. He stood up and sat opposite the black-haired boy and said, "If you didn't kill Falcone, okay, okay, if you saved him, the situation of the gang could still be maintained, and everything wouldn't be so bad, so why were you so impulsive at the time?"

"Do you think I was impulsive at the time?"

The little boy looked aside and said, "That's not what I meant, but you may not have considered the consequences. Seriously, Batman, do you regret it?"

"I will not regret the death of a gang leader, Damian, never."

"You are changing the subject again." Damian looked at the boy opposite and said, "I am asking if you regret destroying the order of the gang and bringing Gotham into a worse era."

"How do you judge whether an era is bad?"

Damian rubbed his face and said, "Anyway, the Gotham I saw in another universe is much better than yours. You often say that seeing is believing. I saw it. In comparison, your Gotham is naturally worse."

"Did you really see it?" Batman's tone remained unchanged, but he stood up and turned to walk out of the building.

"Hey, wait, where are you going?"

"You don't have to follow me." Batman turned to look at Damian and said, "Because the city outside is exactly the better era you talked about, and you also want to make your hometown like this. In this case, you can live here alone."

"Of course I can!" Damian raised his voice a little angrily and said, "Are you angry because your mistakes were exposed? Batman, you are always like this, and you can't listen to other people's correct suggestions!"

Batman said nothing and disappeared at the stairs in silence. Damian took a deep breath, clenched his fists, stood up from the ground and ran to the window, shouting to Batman who walked into the sunset alone: ​​"I will correct your mistakes!!!"

Batman didn't look back.

At the same time, in the back kitchen of a restaurant, Bruce quickly opened the door of the cabinet under the stove and groped in the dark cabinet with his hands full of foam after washing the dishes.

Suddenly his eyes lit up, and he took out the things in his hands, with a smug smile on his face.

And sparkling in the light was a delicate little silver spoon carved with vine patterns.