บท 1448: Chapter 978: Battle for the High Tower (Part 12)_1
By the time they returned to the dormitory in the evening, Hexagon began to chatter excitedly before Batman even opened his mouth.
"Did you see it? The Big Guy was whipped! I tell you, it's horrible; he's probably being taken to the eastern mine to haul magma stones. It's no good job; it's exhaustive and you have to face the fiercest supervisors. Anyone who doesn't work hard is taken there!"
Hexagon panted with coarse breath, the gruffness seeping into his voice as he said, "I can't believe it, my feet shaking when I spoke, I didn't dare meet the overseer's gaze. My god, how can you humans think of such devious schemes?!"
"As predicted, those Miniature Demons surely would speak for me, because they're also fed up with the foolish Big Guy. And Ao Fei hates him even more, as he had killed his two children when he previously smashed the mineral stones. Although Ao Fei has more than twenty children, those two were the strongest and most likeable..."
Hexagon mumbled about past incidents, about how Ao Fei reproduced, how those two children grew up, and how they got killed. These accounts, which sounded like domestic squabbles, were all noted down by Batman as pieces of intelligence.
"You seem very happy?" Batman asked.
"I...I'm a little...but I don't know what happened, this whole afternoon, I felt exhilarated, worked even harder than usual, I'm overjoyed... finally, I don't have to put up with that fool!"
Later, Hexagon gritted his teeth, saying, "Those damn Magma Demons, they should all roll back into the magma. They always bully us because they're strong and husky. If it wasn't such a big disturbance this time, with so many people speaking for me, the overseer would certainly have punished me!"
Following this, he sighed and said, "However, this trick can only be used once. The demand for the minerals has been high recently. I heard that they are getting ready for war at the front lines, everyone is busy trying to speed up. I'm almost dead from exhaustion."
"Who was that supervisor who came today?" Batman asked. Hexagon pondered for a moment before answering, "I heard them say, he's the boss of the Big Mine. There are seven mines here, right? Each mine has a boss. The whole mining area has one chief, that's Lord Rotting Heart General. Beyond that...I don't know."
"Is he known to whip people often?" Batman asked further.
"Of course, all the mineworkers who don't work well are whipped. The Boss's whip is particularly powerful, even the Magma Demons nearly fall apart taking one strike. If it were me, I would probably die instantly." Hexagon's voice shook slightly as he continued, "I've seen it with my own eyes when the Boss used that whip to kill Ao Fei's grandfather..."
"Why?" Batman asked.
"Because of the Flame Powder - oh, the stuff you saw in the supervisor's hand for smoking. This thing can stimulate and relax, though I've never had it, I heard it's good."
"When the supervisor was smoking flame powder, a tiny bit spilled on the ground and Ao Fei's grandfather picked it up and took a puff. He was discovered and was beaten to death."
Hexagon spoke apprehensively, to which Batman responded, "Just for such a small thing?"
"Small thing, this is not a small thing. Only supervisors can inhale flame powder, oh, some old mineworkers can too, or someone whom the supervisor likes; they also get the chance. This is the symbol of status."
"And those Miniature Demons, what are they? If they smoked Flame Powder, it would shame everyone. Furthermore, they reproduce in abundance. Killing one or two doesn't matter."
"Aren't you afraid they'll beat you to death?" Batman asked after a moment of silence.
"Of course I'm scared, who's not afraid of death?" Hexagon's voice became a little timid. He added, "But I don't make trouble and I do good work, so I won't die that easily."
Batman fell silent again. The tone, expression, and behavior of Hexagon reminded him of a little girl who had once died due to hypothermia at Wayne Manor.
Batman could not understand their ignorance – living day by day, never thinking about the future, not considering the forthcoming hazards, unwilling to make any changes to counter the crisis, and never thinking about self-rescue.
However, later, when Batman, devoid of any company, strolled the streets of the slums, he understood the roots of such ignorance.
It wasn't that they were not afraid; they simply chose to avoid the grim, inescapable reality – they decided to live for the present.
Sitting in the dark and narrow room, Batman felt as if he could hear the sound of rain in Gotham. He thought, perhaps, Gotham lacked a thunderbolt to awaken people from ignorance, making them realize there was another possibility when pushed to the brink of despair, apart from dying in silence.
Could he be that thunderbolt? Batman asked himself. Soon, he found the answer to be no.
Because he knew the warnings, defenses, and suspicions he held due to the wounds in his heart, had left him as a lone wanderer in a stormy night, rather than the one who could raise the flag and kindle the flame.
Batman once contemplated if Godfather and Shiller were waiting for him. But now he realized that maybe none of them – Godfather, Shiller or he, were the seeds that Gotham awaited.
They were not sudden rumbling thunders in a rainy night, or the standard bearers amidst a wave. Perhaps, their lives merely helped loosen the wicked soil, allowing the seed to root deeper.
Who will descend with a thunderous crash in the awakening spring? Who will sprout from the earth at the break of a rainy night?
As he pondered on this, Batman realized he didn't care. After confronting the dark reality of Gotham, he no longer held any vain illusions. Purifying this soil would be enough to be his lifelong pursuit.
In such a state of mind, Batman gradually fell asleep. And when he woke up in the middle of the night, he found that Hexagon, the person next room, hadn't slept, and was breathing somewhat heavily, seemingly unable to fall asleep due to a tangle of thoughts.
Batman didn't linger for too long, for tonight was the scheduled assembly time. He once again took the same route as before to reach the mid-hill, where Shiller and Alfred were already waiting.
Several minutes after the three had gathered, Merkel finally arrived, appearing a bit limping. Shiller looked at him and asked, "What's wrong with you? Are you injured?"
"Yes, I twisted something, but it's not serious," Merkel replied, panting slightly. He then took out a whip from his coat.
After placing the whip on the table, Batman noticed that the handle was faintly glowing green, clearly the same kind of whip he had seen on the hands of the overseers during the day.
"How did you get it?" asked Batman.
Merkel winced slightly in pain and replied, "I obviously stole it."
Then, with a somewhat lucid look on his face, he said, "I've always been a field agent, a specialist in behind-the-lines operations. I've said again and again that I don't do undercover work… But no one listened to me…"
Alfred raised an eyebrow and remarked, "What department are you from again? The fifth? I've been meaning to ask, since when does the fifth department do undercover operations? Aren't you guys specialists in assassinations and sabotage?"
Merkel shook his head and replied, "My luck, I guess. We had too many elite agents in our batch. My physical test scores would have placed me first or second in any previous batch, but that time I only ended up third from the bottom. As a result, I missed out on all the important assignments and was forced to go undercover."
A strange expression appeared on Shiller's face. So, it turns out his butler is a physically specialized field agent and not a professional spy. He laughed mockingly and cheekily, "By that standard, you are quite professional, especially when it comes to breaking things."
Merkel gave his eyes a hard cover, and Alfred also shook his head. But Batman seemed somewhat melancholy, like a student who has finished his homework on time only to find that his desk mate not only did his own work extra early but also did some additional exercises.
Batman was never really the type to charge boldly. He preferred to make thorough preparations before executing any plan and investigate all information. But now it seemed that he had to ultilize both approaches.
Batman squinted at Merkel. His thoughts at this moment, in simpler terms, would be, 'Someone dares to rush me? Wait and see as I roll you over.'
As expected, in the following information exchange session, Merkel didn't procure much information. Over the past two days, he demonstrated the true skills of a field agent. He focused on the overseers' daily routines, figured out all the infiltration routes, and stole their whip when they were off guard.
Batman shared all the information he had gathered about the races deep in the quarry, inter-race information, and interpersonal information. His gathered information was very detailed and matched the information Shiller and Alfred had obtained from the overseers.
The main consistent element was that everyone in the quarry was growing increasingly impatient, particularly the overseers.
As the front-line war was getting intense, Beelzebub seemed to want to do something unprecedented. To maintain troops, provisions come first. The Transformers needed a large number of ores to smelt and forge their weapons. Therefore, the overseers were under intense pressure from their superiors.
The Chief Supervisors were not involved in production themselves. To relieve the mounting pressure, they could only transfer it down to the lower levels. The lesser overseers were then forced to continually push the slave miners. In the recent few days, there had been several conflicts and many slaves had been killed.
"They're making examples out of a few to warn the rest. They hope that by brutal means, all the slaves will speed up their work. As the deadline approaches, the pressure they face will make them gradually lose their sanity. Their methods will become increasingly brutal, and there may be a mass bloodshed incident," explained Shiller.
"Are you saying, a massacre?" Alfred contemplated for a moment and then questioned, "But they should also be aware that if they kill too many, there will be no one left to work."
Shiller shook his head and replied, "They're all counting on those giant bugs. They consider the slave miners to be expendable. Regardless of the reality that the number of people captured cannot offset those they have killed, as long as they harbor the notion that 'slaves are interminable, it's no big deal to kill a few,' they won't hesitate to kill."
"Hurry up and start the formal operation," Shiller stood up and declared. "I'll assign the tasks."
"There are many races in the mine, but our main targets are those at the lower levels. The demon overseers underestimate their power due solely to their stupidity and shortsightedness. But we all understand the power these seemingly insignificant races will have once they unite."
"Next, each of us will be responsible for connecting with one race. We start by connecting points into a line, then use the line to form a surface. Before a large-scale bloodshed event happens, we will try to plant the seeds of rebellion in them."
"Batman, you've already established a good relationship with a Shadow Monster, so you will be responsible for contacting them."
"Alfred will take on the important task of liaising with the Miniature Demon race."
"Given that Merkel is not particularly good at speeches and persuasion, he will be responsible for the low-IQ Sludge Devils. Remember, first express your sympathy, then idealize, don't talk about big truths, just share personal experiences. The situation is grim but the future is promising."
"What will you do?" Batman asked.
A smile surfaced on Shiller's face, but there was no laughter in his eyes, which seemed cold and arrogant. He looked at Batman and said:
"Me? I'll do what I'm best at."
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