บท 3371: Chapter 2511: Cape Contest (30)
But just as the Arkham Batman said, a problem arose midway through the plan, the biggest issue being that the Symbiont attached to the Arkham Batman, intended for healing his injuries, was exploited by King Robin. He directly linked the signals of the two Symbionts, transferring the Arkham Batman's memories of pain and injury to Jason.
The Arkham Batman realized this immediately, he knew that Jason's mental state was already unstable, and while his condition had improved somewhat thanks to treatment, another stimulus would only plunge him back into madness.
Whether Jason went mad was another matter; at that moment, Batman felt like he was going insane himself. He couldn't understand why so many disasters had to befall one person simultaneously, why, just as he soared to the skies, he had to plunge back into the abyss, why hope was swiftly followed by despair?
Such feelings were a tremendous blow to anyone, and in that instant, Batman lost all reason. He no longer cared about any plan—he had to stop Jason's suffering immediately.
Batman expelled the Symbiont from his body.
The battle Batman fought was not an encounter by chance; it was he who had deliberately lured King Robin here in the first place, and a multitude of preparations had been made in the Capitol Building. Even if he didn't expect a swift victory against the Fifth-dimensional Imp, he shouldn't have suffered so badly.
But the trouble came at the moment Batman lost control, which led him to discard his most durable shield component. Without a frontline tank to endure the onslaught, it didn't matter how powerful the ranged attackers at the back were—they were instantaneously defeated. Within just a few seconds, Batman sustained severe injuries, rendering any backup plans useless.
"I could have reclaimed my cloak," said the Arkham Batman. "King Robin couldn't have escaped, but I was losing too much blood at the time, my consciousness was blurred, I couldn't manipulate the machinery,"
"Then you should have stayed put, you knew they were going to rescue you," Batman said.
"I wouldn't stay put because I knew it was Jason who would come."
The Prime Universe's Batman was speechless. He knew the relationships within his own Batman Family were not exactly healthy, but this one before him carried extra weight.
Although Batman is often not much of a talker, there are degrees to his silence. Some are simply not talkative, some choose not to speak, and then there are those whose hearts are sealed with concrete, whereas their mouths are blocked with concrete regardless of time, place, or occasion, as if afflicted by a condition that would kill them the moment they spoke.
The Arkham Batman clearly did not want to mobilize Robin, but the Prime Universe's Batman was lucid. He knew that the cloak was of paramount importance and that he must now aid the Batman before him, leaving him unable to act. So, it was up to the Batman Family to step in.
Hence, he imitated the communication frequency and speaking style of the Arkham Batman, sending out a vague message. He figured that even if the Robins he added didn't get it, the one from this universe surely would. After all, they had been doing this for many years.
There was another matter Batman needed to understand, so he asked, "How did you attract King Robin here?"
"I killed the Joker."
Batman was taken aback on the spot.
"To be more precise, he died because of me," the Arkham Universe's Batman said, coughing twice before adding, "I had the antidote, but he refused it; he died."
Batman breathed a sigh of relief. He had indeed received quite a shock because he had just speculated that the mastermind lurking behind the scenes could very well be a fusion of Batman and the Joker. And now the one before him was saying he had killed the Joker.
The Prime Universe's Batman knew full well what killing the Joker would mean. The ever-laughing fellow was like a roaming curse; whoever killed him would start laughing uncontrollably and become the next Joker.
As expected, he heard the Arkham Batman say, "He entered my brain and kept laughing madly, babbling incessantly."
"Did he cause any harm?"
"He seems to have wanted to control and become me, but he failed."
Batman felt increasingly certain of his hypothesis and hesitantly said, "The Joker in your head, is he the one you knew?"
"Yes, he even retains his original memories," the Arkham Batman said as he slowly clenched his fist. "He kept showing me how he tortured Jason, almost driving me mad."
Batman, as if affirming a thought, said, "How do you think that felt?"
"I told you, I almost went mad."
"Apart from that?"
The room fell silent, and the last question seemed to press pause on everything. The air was filled with reluctance to answer, but upon closer inspection, it was not about unwillingness but fear to answer.
"It made me… want to laugh."
In the Arkham Batman's voice, there was a revelation of fear, a profound fear etched deep into the soul. The Prime Universe's Batman knew that he was supposed to be a tougher man than himself, yet he was deeply scared.
And Batman understood that what the tough guy feared was not the Joker's crazed contamination; he had derived supreme pleasure from merging with the Joker.
Batman could imagine what that felt like. Batman's unmatched brilliance combined with the Joker's unique brand of crazy wisdom, they would truly become gods of wisdom, omniscient, omnipotent, with the world at their fingertips.
This pleasure was intense enough to destroy anyone's moral baseline and integrity, even Batman wasn't sure he could be completely unaffected by it, and that was the very source of Arkham Batman's fear.
Batman took a deep breath, thinking of the box he had brought. His hand tending to his wounds paused, frozen in place for a long while. But eventually, as if having made an important decision, he let out the breath gently and gathered his focus.
"I know why King Robin came... There's already a Batman like this in the cosmos, isn't there?" Arkham Batman asked.
"That's not Batman," Batman denied. "It's precisely because he just overcame his own desire that he can say this so firmly. It's demons who give in to temptation, not Batman."
Arkham Batman seemed to deeply understand this, saying, "I can't claim to have completely overcome temptation, perhaps more so because I didn't personally kill the Joker. The virus that infected me wasn't strong enough, so I was able to beat it."
"But no matter what, you won, and you will win again," Batman said, looking into Arkham Batman's eyes. "Think about Jason, you need to recover quickly, and then go see him."
Arkham Batman closed his eyes and said no more. Batman didn't know whether he was really planning to heal or still didn't want to discuss anything related to Jason or see him.
Shiller completed his full examination of King Robin in the laboratory beneath Wayne Tower. The results showed his skin was corroded, which was to be expected.
Corrosion is certainly not a necessary step in transformation, but the Joker's aesthetics were consistent. He just had to dunk everyone into the vat. How could Shiller not know this?
The brain scans didn't reveal any significant abnormalities. Little Bruce helped with the dialysis imaging and the brain structure analysis, but from a neuroscience perspective, nothing unusual was found.
This wasn't surprising. These weren't the devices used in the Batcave, and they were products of technology of this era. Even if the Arkham Knight Universe's technology was a bit more advanced than Shiller's, there were no clear advances in brain science, and the scanning equipment was similar. It was normal not to find any anomalies.
Unable to detect anything with scientific instruments, Shiller naturally turned to the abilities of the gray mist. But he didn't rush to analyze the brain with the gray mist, first inspecting King Robin's overall body structure.
As expected, King Robin hadn't undergone any physical alterations. He was still the young Bruce Wayne, with strength and structure slightly above his age group, but still within the range of an ordinary person.
This was a bit strange. Given that King Robin had the means to produce so many incredible gadgets from his belt, it wasn't likely that he couldn't enhance his own body, or that the Mad Laugh hadn't interfered.
Shiller thought it was possible that the Mad Laugh wasn't as indifferent to King Robin as he appeared, recalling a very clear scene from the comics.
Mad Laugh had thrown King Robin into the vat, and King Robin hadn't managed to swallow the pill that would keep him sane in time. In a defiant act, he spat the pill into the vat.
Despite the Mad Laugh saying it was useless, the comic frames showed all the crazy Robins standing beside King Robin, cheering him on.
This indicated that King Robin might indeed have become the king of the Robins, and considering Mad Laugh's ability to anticipate everything, he would surely have taken precautions against King Robin.
Shiller didn't believe King Robin's presence in this universe was an accident. He was just a pawn in Mad Laugh's game against other powers, a tool with a mission.
Shiller speculated as he allowed the gray mist to invade King Robin's brain to check for any problems with the internal structure.
The gray mist spread inside, initially searching the brain's fissures delicately, then pouring deeper.
But just as it crossed the brain's outer layer, through the gray mist, Shiller didn't see the usual brain structure, or at least not completely. Half of the brain was normal, while the other half was completely hollowed out, with black and red viscous fluid seething within.
Bang!!!
King Robin exploded.
Physically, his head burst open, black and red liquid spraying with the explosion, splattering onto everything nearby.
Shiller's reaction was swift. As soon as he saw the abnormal brain structure, he realized it was a trap. The gray mist withdrew at top speed, but it was too late.
The last thing Shiller managed to do was to open an umbrella, so the disgusting liquid wouldn't touch his body.
With a soft bang, the umbrella snapped open and the splattered liquid hit the umbrella's surface with a swish, and a sizzling noise echoed as Shiller watched smoke rise from the umbrella surface.
Collapsing the umbrella, he looked down to see the originally smooth surface, which sparkled with mysterious colors, now corroded by the black and red liquid, revealing a mass of pockmarked scars where the snake skin had been eaten away.
"...My umbrella!!!"
That was the last sound Little Bruce heard.
And Gotham, was fogged in.
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