Chapter 54: The crimson web, Parliament of Limbs.
Standing in ankle-deep blood water, Bruce Waynewatched the cross spinning under the firmament.
Connected to the bottom of the cross was a huge blood-red egg.
Its surface constantly pulsating, resembling a beating heart.
The guests around him stood frozen in place, their eyes hollow, pupils dilated until their irises vanished.
Just like the eyes of the corpses in the side hall just now.
Just like...
A violent wave of nausea suddenly welled up...
"Don't think too much about it."
"Snap!"
A flick landed on his forehead.
Bruce snapped back to reality.
The black-haired, black-eyed youth had his hands tucked in his pants pockets, wearing a casual smile on a face so plain he would be lost in a crowd.
It formed a teeth-grittingly lazy contrast with the horrifying sea of blood around them.
Traveler.
"Have you thought about how much more to add?" said the youth.
Bruce took a deep breath.
Endurance.
Now was not the time to fuss over this guy's infuriating sense of humor.
"When did you arrive?"
"When you were telling dwarf jokes with the golden-haired handsome guy." Yale tilted his chin toward the other side of the hall, "I was stealing champagne."
Bruce looked in the direction he indicated.
In the middle of the crowd.
A blonde youth stood frozen in place just like the other guests.
Yale Kent.
The eighteen-year-old genius teenage manga artist was standing blankly in place, completely motionless right now.
"Bruce?"
Another voice came from the blood mist.
The two of them looked over at the same time.
A figure walked out from the frozen crowd.
Zatanna Zatara.
Perhaps to prepare for her magic performance, she had already changed her outfit.
The purple long dress in the banquet hall was gone; now replaced by white gloves, a white shirt, a top hat, Martin boots, and...
Fishnet stockings?
Yale's mouth twitched. This magician lady's aesthetic sense was still...
Never mind...
In the ankle-deep, nauseating sea of blood, those slender legs wrapped in black mesh were somewhat pleasing to the eyes, the delicate and plump skin of her thighs looming vaguely amidst the dark red ripples.
"You also stayed conscious?" Bruce was surprised.
Holding her magic wand, Zatanna's gaze first fell on Bruce, then shifted to the black-haired, black-eyed stranger beside him.
"I didn't expect you... you guys too."
She nodded with a complicated expression.
"Wait..."
Bruce suddenly realized something.
The reason he could stay conscious in this domain of blood was because of a certain mental barrier bestowed by the Dream Council.
Moge had once explained that the chosen ones' consciousness could resist nightmares, and guardian Beasts lived within their souls.
But Zatanna was not a council member; she was just a...
"You... what you usually perform is really just magic?" Bruce asked in suspicion and uncertainty.
"Don't question a magician." The magician lady said speechlessly, "Every step of what I perform on stage is sleight of hand."
"Then why did you..."
"Alright." Yale interjected timely, "Since everyone is a conscious, normal person, why don't we skip the social pleasantries first?"
"Of course."
Bruce turned back, "Zatanna, this is—"
"Traveler." Yale took over the conversation himself, nodding slightly at Zatanna, "Just call me Traveler."
"...Zatanna Zatara."
The girl extended her white-gloved hand.
Yale shook her hand; the tactile feel was much like a physical entity.
"Tra—"
"Don't move."
Yale suddenly spoke up.
Zatanna had just opened her mouth, and the question she wanted to ask hadn't yet been formed into sentences.
Because footsteps came from beneath the cross.
It seemed many people were stepping in the shallow blood water, making continuous slapping sounds.
People wearing dark red robes walked out from the blood mist.
They wore masks on their faces, hands crossed over their chests, with the exact same blood cross emblem on each person's wrist.
Yale narrowed his eyes slightly.
This was the very symbol Elaine and the others had stripped from the little girl Mary earlier.
"As expected, it's them..." Zatanna spoke in a low voice.
"You know them?" Yale raised an eyebrow.
"The Cult of Blood."
"A blood sacrifice cult worshipping the demon Trigon, whose origins can be traced back to medieval Eastern Europe." She added, "They believe that by sacrificing blood and souls, something can be summoned back."
"Something?" Bruce pressed on.
"For example..."
"Mice have sneaked into the sanctuary."
The priest at the very front raised both arms.
His eyes behind the mask swept over the frozen crowd.
"Mercy is a sin!" He chanted loudly.
The blood water churned and surged!
Wrapping around a middle-aged man to Bruce's right!
"Hum—!"
In an instant, a fanged tiger-leopard leaped out from the blood water!
"Beast."
The priest murmured piously, "Find them for us."
Bruce was stunned, his grayish-blue eyes subconsciously meeting the tiger-leopard.
Its fur was dark red, its fangs scarlet.
"Roar!"
With a roar, Sabretooth opened its giant mouth to...
"Boom!"
A hand reached out from the side.
With a single hand, it pressed the entire Sabretooth into the blood water.
The giant Beast's four paws scratched beneath the liquid surface, splashing a large amount of blood water, and the hot breath spewing from its mouth blew towards Traveler.
The youth's arm didn't budge at all, and was even tightening.
It only took a split second...
For the tiger-leopard's skull to shatter like a watermelon!
"Don't kill it yet! Traveler! Let me experiment!" Zatanna hurriedly spoke out.
Black eyes fell on the girl.
"Reason?"
"The Red."
"What?"
"This is a domain." Zatanna waved her magic wand, tracing a purple light in the air, "A field where all animal life shares through flesh and blood."
"Connecting and permeating every living, formerly living, and dying animal life form in the Universe."
"A network composed of blood, bone, flesh, and predatory instinct."
"The crimson web."
Crimson?
Yale narrowed his eyes slightly.
Memories flashed past.
The Green, the plant life form.
The Rot, closely linked with Death.
And the Red...
The Red.
The Red of all living things, the animal life community.
The three giants of the Parliament of Elements.
He looked down at the struggling Sabretooth in the blood water.
If what Zatanna said was right, then the priests in front of him hadn't created an ancient giant Beast out of thin air.
They extracted the form from the flesh-and-blood memories preserved within the crimson web, and then crammed a soul into it.
The guests were thus packed into a wrong body.
"People always like to forget that they are also animals." Zatanna added, "But magic doesn't care about human self-esteem."
She drew a playing card from the inner pocket of her dress.
Then pressed it into the blood water beneath her feet.
Purple flames ignited along the edges of the card.
Countless lines of blood simultaneously materialized on the ground.
"It wears a beastly form." Zatanna breathed a sigh of relief, "But inside, it's still that same person from before."
Looking at the burning playing card in Zatanna's hand, along with the whole bunch of mumbo-jumbo occult knowledge coming from her mouth.
"And you still say you don't know magic?" Bruce laughed out of anger.
"I never said I couldn't use magic." Zatanna didn't even raise her head, "What I said was that what I perform on stage is magic tricks, Young Master."
Bruce didn't know what to say.
A superhuman who could fly and fight, and a true magician.
And he, Bruce Wayne.
Superpower?
Money power.
He suddenly felt just like someone sorted into Gryffindor at the Hogwarts opening ceremony, cheerfully walking into the dormitory with his one-of-a-kind Hedwig, only to find that his classmates all had dragons and phoenixes...
Could I really be a muggle? Bruce fell into deep thought.
Without any intention of paying attention to the landlord's silly son, Zatanna took off her gloves.
Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly.
Although he didn't know what this meant, the fact that the magician actively took off her gloves made warning bells ring loudly in his heart.
Her fingers tapped against Sabretooth's forehead.
"Namuhotnruter. (Human Return)"
The words chanted backward caused resonance in the surrounding blood water.
Sabretooth stopped struggling.
Its outline blurred, colors flowed, fur receded, and bones reorganized.
Fangs shrank back into its gums.
The middle-aged man fell from the disintegrating Beastform into the blood pool.
He was unconscious, with only his chest rising and falling.
"This is?"
Bruce squatted down to check the man's pulse.
"His consciousness has returned."
Zatanna wiped the sweat from her forehead, "Beast form lifted, personality returned."
"Then what about us?"
Bruce stood up, looking around, "There are still at least two hundred guests in this space..."
"First, take these people one by one..."
"Alright, shut up."
Yale's voice came from above.
Bruce looked up.
Traveler was suspended in the crimson sky, arms crossed, his utterly plain face appearing exceptionally cold beneath the scarlet.
His gaze swept past the churning blood mist.
AI Model: gemini-3.5-flash
landing on the priests who were chanting in unison below the cross.
"Take your time saving people."
"I'm going to have a talk with those guys in bathrobes."
As soon as he finished speaking, his figure flashed.
The sea of blood surged, and the Traveler crossed the entire blood plain, charging straight toward the phalanx of priests.
The leading priest looked up in astonishment.
The eyes behind the mask were startled at first upon seeing this flying human, but then, to everyone's surprise, they welled up with ecstasy!
"Do you see it, brothers?" he murmured devoutly. "He has already opened the first door for us!"
Yale's brow furrowed.
Opened what door?
But he didn't want to waste time asking pointless questions.
A hum vibrated as a blazing white light ignited in his eyes, and wherever the beams passed...
...the waves of blood got there before him.
A massive wave, surging from out of nowhere, rose from the ground in front of the priests, colliding with the Heat Vision! A sweet, metallic mist filled half the sky, obscuring most of the blood plain!
Yale narrowed his eyes.
The crimson web? Are these guys using the power of their domain as a shield?
He cracked his neck, intending to see if a single punch could shatter this turtle shell.
"Screech!"
A shadow was cast from within the blood mist.
A bird of prey with a wingspan of nearly ten meters descended from the sky!
"What is this?" Zatanna was stunned.
"A Thunderbird?!" Bruce froze, then suddenly shouted, "Traveler! Watch out—"
Yale looked up.
*Bang!*
The bird of prey was burned in half right down the middle!
Dark red blood mist erupted from the two halves of the carcass, forming a bloody archway behind the Traveler.
A comatose woman fell out of the Beast's remains.
Yale reached out to catch her, gently placing her on a relatively dry patch of high ground.
Behind him...
...
...
Bruce fell silent.
Right...
His expression suddenly became calm.
He had spent thirty million, after all! What was there to fear—
"Get down!"
Zatanna gave a low shout, and the playing cards in her right hand flew out.
Four of Diamonds, Seven of Hearts, Jack of Clubs.
Purple flames ignited along the edges of the cards as they slammed into the giant bird diving from right above Bruce's head!
The flames scorched its wings, causing the giant bird's beastly form to disintegrate. Another person fell into the pool of blood, splashing Bruce right in the face.
Wiping the blood from his face, Bruce slowly looked up.
He had seen many unforgettable sights in his life.
The night his parents lay in a pool of blood, the searchlights on the high walls of Arkham, the expression on his opponent's face after having his nose broken inside the cage of an underground fight club.
But the scene above his head was certainly up there with the best of them.
The crimson sky was densely packed with giant birds!
Hundreds of birds of prey circled in the blood mist.
These were all of tonight's guests.
Gotham's elites, dignitaries, collectors, lawyers, bankers, and the approvers of doughnut budgets.
At this moment, they had all transformed into ancient birds of prey, circling in formation beneath the blood-red sky.
"The one thing we aren't short of tonight is people," Brucemuttered.
More guests on the ground began to transform.
Blood wrapped around their bodies, and a Dire wolfemerged from the left side of the crowd, its greyish-white mane standing on end.
On the right, some giant feline he couldn't name was standing up and hissing.
Even in the sky...
"Squawk squawk!"
Where did these flying penguins come from?!
*Boom!*
Bruce looked toward the source of the loud noise in shock and suspicion.
Further away...
The ground trembled.
A massive outline emerged from the depths of the blood mist.
Bipedal, with short forelimbs.
A Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Someone turned into a T-Rex?!
"Is this... also a guest?" he asked Zatanna.
"Probably a guest of considerable weight," Zatanna said, staring at the T-Rex and sucking in a cold breath.
Bruce regretted it.
Especially after seeing a Dire wolf voluntarily fuse with a bird of prey descending from the sky.
The shadows of the two Beasts overlapped in the blood.
The shadows of the Dire wolf and the bird of prey merged into one.
Feathers emerged on its limbs, and wings grew on its back.
The crimson web.
It was allowing different Beasts to share their power.
Bruce truly regretted not buying more insurance now. If he was gone, what would happen to Alfred's retirement fund?
"Maybe this is good news?" Zatanna remarked. "They have great teamwork, and they don't seem to have forgotten they are human."
"And the bad news?" Bruce asked, laughing in frustration.
"We aren't on their team."
The Traveler in the sky chimed in. He was grabbing the T-Rex's head with one hand, lifting the tens-of-tons Beastinto the air by its skull.
The T-Rex's short legs kicked a few times in the air.
The Traveler looked at Zatanna.
"Give me a card."
Zatanna threw out an Ace of Spades.
The playing card burned in the air, its purple flames stripping away the beastly form layer by layer.
"Esaeler."
Zatanna whispered the backward magic.
The blood mist dispersed!
An obese woman in an evening gown fell from the sky.
The Traveler freed up a hand to catch her, gently placing her on the ground.
"Do you have to use cards?" Yale asked curiously.
"Ritual props."
"magic requires a price," Zatanna explained as she shuffled the deck. "My backward spells can transfer part of that cost to a ritual medium."
"For me, the most convenient medium is a deck of playing cards."
"There are fifty-four cards in a deck. Each one I use is gone. Once they're all used up... I have to get a new deck."
"Fifty-four lives per deck."
"You could put it that way."
However, Zatanna didn't look very happy.
Yale didn't press further.
He glanced down at the deck in Zatanna's hand, which had thinned out considerably, estimating there were just over thirty cards left.
Meanwhile, the surrounding horde of Beasts was still growing.
He was willing to bet Zatanna had only brought one deck of magic cards.
"Can your spell only restore one at a time?"
"If you can help me find the ritual core, I can send everyone's consciousness back all at once," Zatanna said hurriedly. "The core should be in that..."
She pointed toward the distant blood egg.
"Understood."
The Traveler's figure vanished from where he stood.
In the next instant!
Blood exploded in the distance!
Yale tore a blocking Dire wolf apart with his bare hands, landing directly in front of the Blood Disciple priests.
Molten fire ignited in his eyes, burning his otherwise ordinary dark eyes into a brilliant crimson-gold!
Facing this incredibly violent humanoid T-Rex, the priests in front of the blood egg stopped their chanting.
Yale waited for their fear.
To boost his role-playing progress.
But...
"Ah... Ah..."
...
The priest at the very front let out a whimper.
A whimper of fear?
No, they were actually weeping with joy.
One by one, they fell to their knees before Yale.
...
...?
Yale was taken aback.
I haven't even done anything yet, have I?
Yet he saw tears welling up in the eyes behind the priests' masks, sliding down to mix with the blood.
They cheered in unison.
"Souls to Trigon! Blood sacrifice to the Crimson!"
Yale's face darkened.
Literally.
Their flesh and blood were liquefying.
Yet they continued to laugh even as they melted, even when their masks fell off to reveal skeletal faces.
One by one, the priests dissolved into blood, merging into the giant crimson egg in the pool beneath their feet, still chanting up until the very last moment of their melting.
"The blood of brothers shall never run dry."
"The bones of brothers shall never decay."
Yale watched the last priest's mask sink into the blood pool, his mouth twitching slightly.
Even northern Myanmar wouldn't harvest someone so cleanly.
Souls offered to Trigon, flesh and blood offered to the Crimson.
And the one who would ultimately benefit...
The blood egg throbbed.
Yale narrowed his golden pupils, looking at the churning pool of blood.
The souls of the Blood Disciples rose from beneath the surface, their translucent human outlines tearing and tangling with the souls of ancient Beasts, clinging to the surface of the giant egg layer by layer.
*Gurgle, gurgle!*
The blood waves rolled backward.
A hand reached out from the vortex.
Bone, blood vessels, muscle.
Spreading upward layer by layer.
"The eternal beastly body..."
...
"...returning with the High Priest..."
...
"...the blood will not forget us..."
...
"...Sebastian Blood..."
A figure stood up in front of the blood egg.
The voices of the Blood Disciples began to tremble.
"The blood of brothers shall never run dry."
"The bones of brothers shall never decay!"
A gentle chuckle echoed from the pool of blood.
The herd of Beasts came to a halt.
The Dire wolf burned to ashes, the bird of prey shattered by a fist, the Sabretooth crushed by bare hands.
The beastly shadows rose from the blood, running through the crimson light, calling out to one another with beastly roars.
They were celebrating! They had finally waited long enough!
In the center of the blood pool, the water bulged.
"Sebastian!"
The beastly shadows of the Blood Disciples shouted in unison.
Chapter 55: If you wouldn't dare bully someone just because they're Satan, then what kind of Hyperion would you be?
A young man slowly stood up from the blood.
The speed at which he stood up was so slow that Yale felt this guy was probably deliberately playing to the gallery.
First his shoulders, then his chest, and finally a surprisingly handsome face.
If he hadn't crawled out of a pool of blood...
This face could probably go act in a soap opera.
"Sebastian!" the Beast shadows of the blood disciples shouted in unison.
The Dire wolf lowered its front legs, and the raptor folded its wings and landed at the edge of the blood pool. Even the tyrannosaurus that was still wandering in the distance stopped its steps and cast a nearly devout gaze in this direction.
The young man spread his arms.
Blood dripped from his palms, stirring up crimson ripples on the ground. When they spread to the feet of the Beastshadows, the Beast shadows lowered their bodies even more excitedly.
He stood there, dripping wet...
Like a priest who had finally ascended the pulpit.
"Thank you, my brothers."
He said with a smile, "Come."
The Beast shadows rushed forward eagerly.
They ran and jumped.
They crashed neat and uniform into Sebastian's chest.
The bird shadows no longer hovered, plunging headfirst one after another into Sebastian's chest. Feathers arched and vanished beneath the skin, and bones rearranged themselves underneath!
The outlines of the deer and bear sank along his spine, injecting density into his body and making his stature grow inch by inch.
But gradually...
The cheers of the Beast shadows gradually turned into confusion.
"Where are our bodies?"
"Priest... Where is my Beast form? You promised..."
"The blood of the brothers wasn't shed in vain, right?"
More Beast shadows began to grow restless. Some Beastshadows tried to retreat, but the blood under their feet was pulling them forward.
Forward toward Sebastian!
Sebastian raised his hand.
More Beast shadows were dragged over by an invisible force.
"Priest!"
"Brother's blood!"
"We have already offered our blood!"
A raptor screamed and tried to fly away, but was entangled at the base of its wings by a line of blood shot from Sebastian's palm, dragging it back circle by circle.
"I know."
Sebastian lowered his head, admiring the Beast bone armor gradually taking shape on his body.
The wolf teeth on his shoulders interlocked into shoulder armor, the feather bones on his back spread out into spine spikes, and the antlers spiraled up along his forearms.
The entire armor was alive, pulsating slightly.
Inside every single piece of bone was a once-living soul.
"You promised us we would be resurrected in the crimson—" the last few Beast shadows that could still make a sound shrieked desperately.
"You are being resurrected."
Sebastian raised his head, his eyes filled with compassion.
The phantom of the last Dire wolf was still struggling.
Its claw marks plowed deep trenches in the blood, but its body still slid forward, inching closer to Sebastian.
Sebastian leaned down and rubbed its head.
"Just not as yourselves," he said softly.
Yale stood in the blood a dozen meters away, leisurely observing the scene.
"It seems you don't want to bring them back?"
Sebastian turned his head.
He bowed slightly toward the black-haired youth in an elegant bow.
"Of course. I am coming back stepping on them."
66
9
Yale tilted his head.
"Clever mouse," he chuckled softly.
The laugh wasn't loud, but it felt somewhat out of place in the crimson air.
Sebastian smiled as well.
He pinched the neck of the Dire wolf phantom.
The Dire wolf stopped struggling.
"I never promised they would still be themselves."
Sebastian said softly as he stuffed the Dire wolf into his chest.
Skin bulged, muscles contracted, and the outline of a wolf's face appeared and vanished. Before vanishing, its mouth was still moving, as if saying something or cursing something.
But no one could hear it anymore.
Above the blood pool, it became completely quiet.
Only Sebastian had his eyes closed.
The bones of the blood disciples rose section by section through his skin, like a group of dead believers still raising his throne for him.
The Beast teeth interlocked along his shoulders into the pattern of chains, and the feather bones spread out behind him, forming a structure somewhere between a cloak and bone wings.
Yale inexplicably thought of a documentary he watched with Joanna when he was a child, which was about how hermit crabs made conch shells their own.
The conch died, and the hermit crab moved in.
It was only natural.
It was completely justified.
"Believers give me blood, and the crimson gives me flesh. The great Trigon gives me the door to enter a higher life,"
"It is only right and proper."
Sebastian laughed out loud.
The crimson mist was drawn by various blood vessels, drilling into his body along the pores all over his body!
Every single drop carried fragments of predators' memories.
A giant bear tearing open a mammoth's throat in the snow, a terror bird chasing lizards in the dense Cretaceous forests, a certain Sabretooth learning to stalk under the first ray of moonlight!
Running! Biting! Reproducing!
Surviving!
Everything that all animals in the World had ever done!
At this moment, it was nothing more than a single breath of his!
Sebastian walked out of the blood pool.
The blood egg was still suspended in the center of the pool behind him.
He raised his head, looking at the blood cross that had lingered in Bruce's nightmares for far too long.
"Compassion is sin! Slaughter is love!"
"Trigon! I revere you!"
66
59
"Mr. Sebastian? Right?" Yale clicked his tongue, "How on earth do you manage to make acting like a dog sound so multi-layered?"
Sebastian shook his head.
"I hope you can respect me, sir," he said.
If one ignored the crimson armor made of human and Beast bones on his body, this sentence could even be considered polite.
"Is that so?"
Yale blinked.
He did consider this proposal.
Probably...
Considered it for zero point one seconds?
His figure flashed like a ghost.
The last second he was still standing in the blood a dozen meters away, and the next second he was right in front of Sebastian.
"Boom!"
One punch.
The sea of blood rolled backward, and the mist all over the sky condensed into a huge water wall in the air! It hovered for about a few seconds before crashing down, splashing everywhere.
Zatanna silently adjusted her crooked top hat.
Bruce wiped the blood from his face.
It was quiet for a moment.
"Is it over just like that?" Bruce asked.
"What do you think?" Yale tilted his head and shrugged, "Have you ever seen a boss get instantly killed right off the bat?"
99
What you said makes me feel like my thirty million dollars wasn't very well spent.
Bruce curled his lips.
The center of the blood pool surged again.
"Perhaps I should teach you respect."
Sebastian's voice came from beneath the blood, and his figure re-condensed from the churning waves of blood.
Yale narrowed his eyes slightly.
The blood egg had disappeared.
The huge blood egg that had been suspended in the center of the pool, resonating with the entire crimson space, vanished the instant Sebastian was knocked into the blood pool.
Was it absorbed?
"Boom—" The huge crimson cross finally detached from the firmament.
It crashed onto the blood plains, the shock of its Impactsplitting the earth beneath into countless cracks. It stood straight in the ground like a long sword plunged into the mud, or a tombstone erected for someone.
Beneath the cross.
Sebastian knelt on the ground.
His chest expanded outward to both sides, and his ribs propped outward one by one. Two new eyes opened beneath his forehead, and another two tore through the flesh on both sides of his sternum.
The upper two eyes were entirely white, while the lower two eyes were entirely crimson.
All four eyes rolled simultaneously, each looking in a different direction.
Watching Sebastian stand back up from the ground.
"Return the Beast form."
He said softly.
"What does that mean?" Bruce was taken aback.
"Careful!"
Zatanna's expression changed abruptly, and she suddenly wanted to fling her playing cards, but it was already too late!
Those three words had barely fallen into Bruce's ears.
"Hah!"
The youth let out a howl.
His teeth became fine and sharp.
He...
He flew away?!
A huge black bat flapped its wings in mid-air, with a wingspan close to one and a half meters, flying right past Zatanna's hat brim.
"Bruce?!" Zatanna screamed in panic.
The bat opened its mouth.
Emitting an ultrasonic wave that no one could hear.
"Did you see that?"
But Sebastian heard it. He turned his head to look at the bat clumsily flapping in the air, revealing a smile as if he understood something.
"Flesh and blood have never been a cage, only a shape."
"My ability is very simple."
"Rewriting flesh through the soul. Every piece of flesh remembers that it was once a Beast, hundreds of thousands of years ago, millions of years ago, hundreds of millions of years ago."
"In the human genome sleep countless ancestors who once ran."
"I simply return flesh and blood back to bestiality."
Zatanna's face turned pale inch by inch.
Sebastian's four eyes turned toward Yale.
He raised his hand.
"Re—" Return your mother's.
The youth's fist was faster than his spell.
In all superhero stories, in all comics, movies, and games, villains always have a lot to say.
About their own abilities, about their beliefs, about how the rules of this World should be rewritten.
They need to finish saying these words, need the audience to hear these words, and need these words to become the meaning of their existence.
But a tyrant doesn't need that!
Hyperion only needs the other party to shut up!
"Boom—" Another punch.
This punch was heavier than the first, because Yale no longer needed to test him, and Sebastian's entire body flew backward through the blood!
His Beast bone armor shattered under the Impact, revealing the distorted flesh and pulsating bones inside!
"Clang—" The sound of metal intertwining rang out.
Behind Sebastian, eight pitch-black long legs suddenly grew out, nailing themselves into the ground like spears.
"Eight Spider Lances."
He sneered, "A part of my power."
"Even if you used Blue Silver Entanglement, it'd be useless."
Yale snorted coldly, and Heat Vision suddenly shot out!
"Stubborn and unrepentant."
Sebastian's four eyes opened simultaneously.
The upper two soul eyes without pupils began to spit out dense black text, while the lower two crimson flesh eyes caused the entire blood plain to boil!
The sea of blood churned.
Hundreds and thousands of claws, beaks, teeth, and horns reached out from the blood!
Countless remains of ancient Beasts were summoned from the depths of crimson web, and the last breaths of all animals dying over hundreds of millions of years condensed into this disaster of flesh and blood!
Sebastian stood in the center of this chaos, intoxicated by it.
An expression that could almost be called happiness appeared on his handsome face.
"The power of ten thousand Beasts."
He muttered to himself, "I can feel it..."
"Their flesh and blood memories are all here with me."
"The evolutionary history of the entire biosphere has become my sheet music."
"
"Pitter-patter..."
Stepping step by step into the churning blood, golden pupils burned quietly in the crimson storm.
The blood falling onto the incoming person was burned to nothingness.
"Ten thousand Beasts!" Sebastian roared.
This was the will of a monarch!
Tens of thousands of Beast shadows were summoned cleanly from the sea of blood! Dinosaurs stood up in the blood mist, mammoths waved their trunks in the air, and giant sharks leaped out of the blood!
Just like an army of thousands!
They lunged together toward the one walking over...
A person?
Yale calmly continued walking forward step by step.
He tore through the pack of Beasts and walked over.
Nothing could block his footsteps.
His movements didn't even have any aesthetic to speak of, it was simply like...
Walking step by step with broken bones and bloody froth all over his head and face while saying excuse me?
Sebastian's four eyes shook.
"Return!" he suddenly spoke.
The soul eyes shot out dazzling white light!
"Bang—!"
But what struck his face...
Was a fist?!
It was a man's fist!
The very instant the white light shone on him, he had already punched Sebastian right in his handsome face!
This time Sebastian was not sent flying, because the youth's other hand kindly grabbed his neck.
"Bang—" Therefore, all the power of the second punch was left on his face.
Sebastian's face shattered.
Yale let go of his hand.
The High Priest stumbled back a few steps, staring blankly ahead with his four eyes. He was truly stunned...
He saw the other's flesh and blood.
But there were no Beasts inside this flesh and blood.
He raised his hand once more.
"Return the Beast form."
He repeated the command.
There was no change at all.
"Return the Beast form," Sebastian repeated.
With black hair and black eyes, his clothes unstained, the air fell silent.
"Are you done speaking?" Yale asked.
Sebastian fell silent.
66
"
"
"Is there anything else you want to say?"
"Can we reconcile?" A hearty expression appeared on Sebastian's face...
*Boom*—another punch.
Sebastian could not understand.
He completely failed to understand.
Knocked down into the pool of blood, his upper two eyes stared at Yale.
He was looking...
He was using the Eyes of Flesh to scan the creature standing before him over and over again.
Cells? Bones? Muscles?
Blood?
Sebastian's pupils constricted.
The Eyes of Flesh saw something in this person's blood.
"You are not—" He paused, "You are not a creature from here?"
"You..."
Yale curved the corners of his mouth slightly.
He did not answer the question.
A tyrant never answers the questions of ants.
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"
"Eyes of Soul! Turn!"
Sebastian let out a low shout, his previous elegant image completely vanishing, and his two Eyes of Soul opened to their maximum.
Flesh had no belonging!
Then he would go look for the shape of the soul!
Every soul has a shape, even a demon! Even an Angel! Even a God!
But...
He found nothing at all.
He saw a shell outlined by power.
The bones were intact, the flesh was abundant, and the cellular activity was even more vigorous than any creature he had ever seen.
But in the position where all this should converge into a soul...
It was completely empty.
"Who are you?" Sebastian could not understand.
"The one who teaches you respect," Yale sneered.
"No!"
"Who on earth are you?!"
"I have already answered."
"You didn't answer!" Sebastian grew angry, his eight spider legs extending from his back scratching chaotically in the bloody water, "You didn't appear here at all! You... Where is your true body?"
Yale slightly raised an eyebrow.
"You are plotting against me?"
Sebastian shouted in a low voice, "From the very beginning, you've been fighting me with an empty shell? This isn't your body? You're controlling a soulless vessel to act as a substitute here?!"
Zatanna was stunned listening to this.
How could a soulless person stand here?
She pursed her lips, subconsciously flipping the poker cards in her hand, the corner of the Joker showing before she pressed it back down.
As expected?
She had thought that the fleeting golden shadow she saw in a trance was an illusion...
"Traveler," Zatanna hesitated and said.
Yale turned his head to glance at her.
The words Zatanna wanted to ask lingered on her tongue, but she eventually swallowed them back.
Not now.
"You have no soul."
Sebastian muttered repeatedly, "You have no soul."
"Is that enough?" the Traveler answered calmly.
Sebastian froze in place.
The sea of blood suddenly parted to both sides.
Don't get me wrong.
Yale did not use any power.
It was just that Sebastian's own emotional fluctuations caused crimson web to resonate, and his fear was spreading through the bloody water across the entire domain.
"No, no, no, no—!"
The eight spider legs burst out through the bloody water, kicking up fan-shaped bloody waves as he lunged close to the ground.
"So what if you have no soul?!"
"An empty shell can also be occupied."
He crossed his hands in front of his chest, and a finger fiercely stabbed into his own chest.
Heartbeat accelerated!
Something was reflected in all four of Sebastian's eyes simultaneously.
A horned crown!
A demon's horned crown!
The shadow cast by an entity whose magnitude was unknown compared to his!
"If there is no Master inside—" he roared as he charged toward the Traveler, "I'll find one for you!"
The bloody water poured forward.
The cross twisted, the blood pool churned, and countless giant Beasts stepped on each other's corpses, piling up as they lunged toward the black-haired youth standing at the center of the storm!
The Myriad Beasts Calamity.
The ground lost the meaning of ground, and up and down were determined solely by the direction of the blood flow!
Bruce in his bat form was thrown higher by the Impact, his wings stained with warm blood. He desperately flapped his unfamiliar flight membranes, barely stabilizing his figure.
Zatanna quickly threw out three poker cards, propping up a temporary barrier in front of herself.
As for Sebastian, he stood on the crest of the wave with an infatuated expression, backed by all animal life!
He waved his arm, and the wave of flesh and blood swept across!
But...
The other party simply took a gentle step forward.
Blinding white light burned in his eyes.
*Boom* Flesh and blood vaporized.
The bloody water turned into steam, and the steam was ionized.
It flashed so brightly that an aurora appeared in the sky above the blood plain!
Gold and red intertwined across the firmament!
Yale walked forward step by step.
Wherever he passed.
The bloody water retreated.
The bloody water was in fear.
The memories of all animal life within crimson web were telling these blood waters the exact same thing!
Do not anger the person ahead!
"Who on earth are you?!" Sebastian roared.
Yale stopped.
This time, he truly gave Sebastian a chance to observe him.
With black hair hanging over his forehead, the crimson light in the bloody fog hit the side of his face, adding a layer of otherworldly shadow to his ordinary features.
Golden pupils faintly ignited.
But Sebastian didn't dare to look anymore.
The upper two eyes capable of seeing through the soul closed first, followed by the lower two eyes capable of rewriting flesh and blood.
He retreated while shivering.
Until his heel touched the edge of the blood pool, he realized he had already yielded the center of the altar.
A High Priest forced to the edge of his own altar by his own fear?!
If Sebastian weren't a four-eyed monster covered in blood armor, this scene could almost be called comical.
He lowered his head and glanced at the churning pool of blood beneath his feet.
"Crimson! Hear my command!"
The sea of blood rose again from all directions.
"Not bad."
The Traveler gently took a step forward.
"Boom!"
A huge mushroom cloud.
A mushroom cloud composed of blood and bone marrow!
Yale walked up to Sebastian step by step.
The surrounding bloody water had retreated to below their ankles.
"Blood, soul, authority."
Yale nodded, expressing approval, "Very strong."
"Enough for you to stand and take my beating."
Sebastian wanted to open his mouth to say even a single word of retort...
But...
Another punch blasted out.
*Boom* Power passed through flesh and blood.
Landing directly on the blood egg in the center of Sebastian's heart!
The crimson domain let out a scream like an infant crying!
The blood egg burst out from behind Sebastian.
Dozens of crimson blood filaments still connected it to Sebastian's body, and the filaments stretched and snapped in mid-air!
Resembling a severed umbilical cord!
Falling into the remnants of the blood pool in the distance, the blood egg began to pulsate again.
Sebastian fell to his knees.
He knelt in the residual bloody water.
Without the blessing of crimson web, he looked like just an ordinary young man.
Take off that skin, and he wouldn't even make it into an idol drama.
Yale shook his head and sighed.
Wouldn't it be good to be a minor actor? Why must he be some High Priest?
"No... Not this kind of thing!"
Sebastian scrambled toward the blood pool.
He desperately wanted to reach that still-pulsating blood egg.
As long as he could get there!
As long as he could reconnect with crimson web!
As long as he could...
"Have you learned respect now?"
A foot stepped onto his back.
"No... No..."
Sebastian screamed.
Yale looked down at the once-haughty High Priest beneath his feet.
He took a deep breath.
The scent of blood entered his nose.
To be honest, this breath was quite comfortable.
The biological energy released after crimson web was heavily damaged was absorbed by him.
Furthermore...
There was also a sense of psychological fulfillment.
He enjoyed the process.
The process of tearing apart the Beast horde, the process of crushing faith.
The process of using absolute violence to trample a madman who thought he stood at the apex of the Worldinto the mud.
He enjoyed every change in Sebastian's expression, from confidence to confusion and then to fear.
He enjoyed the sound of those four eyes extinguishing one by one.
He even enjoyed the tactile sensation of this foot stepping on the other's spine right now.
This enjoyment made him somewhat intoxicated.
And made him a little... alert?
"Roleplay Progress — 60%"
Yale narrowed his eyes.
Ever since entering the crimson domain, his roleplay progress had been steadily rising.
It rose by a chunk when smashing the Beast horde, rose another chunk when crushing Sebastian, and directly jumped several percentage points when punching through the blood egg.
It was sixty.
He was now equivalent to 60% of Hyperion.
Roleplaying.
Gaining power by following roleplay conditions, but also enhancing oneself through exercise, such as absorbing the energy of crimson web.
The former was fast, the latter slow.
But when the two were combined, one plus one was far greater than two.
He was getting closer and closer to eighty.
This was a good thing.
"The great Trigon!"
Sebastian beneath his feet suddenly let out an angry roar.
"Why! Why have I offered everything, yet you are still unwilling to appear!"
Yale let out a cold snort.
He raised his foot, intending to deliver the final blow, stepping this guy's head along with his rambling about Trigon into the bloody water.
"Go to hell to find your Master—" *Hum*—!
The sky split open.
...?!
A fine slit appeared on the firmament.
Yale's pupils constricted.
An eye, with a crimson iris, deep inside the pupil were the reflections of countless Worlds overlapping together.
Every reflection was burning, every reflection was bleeding!
The eye rotated.
It was at this exact moment that Yale felt something he had never felt before.
Gaze...
A child watching a goldfish outside a glass tank.
To the goldfish, that was the gaze of a God, but to the child, it was just looking at a fish.
Zatanna recovered from her shock.
"Traveler!" she screamed.
Yale looked up at the sky, fearlessly locking eyes with the great demon Trigon.
Golden pupils reflected the crimson giant eye in the sky.
The meaning in his gaze was very simple.
The dignified Satan, you come just because someone calls you?!
I despise you! Trigon.
This was Hyperion!
Even if the opponent was Satan, even if the opponent was a demon! Even if the opponent was the ruler of the Infinite Hell!
But so what?
If he didn't dare to bully the other party just because of this!
Then what kind of Hyperion would he still be called!
"My Lord!"
The corners of his mouth were smiling.
"My Lord! I have offered everything! Blood! Flesh! Souls! The souls of two hundred Gotham nobles! And those of my brothers..."
"Unworthy."
A voice like a giant bell echoed across the blood plain.
Who...
Who is unworthy?
Sebastian's smile froze.
"...What?" Sebastian was dazed.
The huge crimson eyeball slowly rotated.
It looked towards...
The youth stepping on his body.
"Not bad."
Yale's eyelid twitched; he suddenly had a very bad premonition.
"My saintess has already arrived at the door."
The voice continued, vast and boundless.
"Now, marry her, and you will gain everything."
Chapter 56: Three Slashes Shatter the Blood Brothers' Soul, Officer, I am a Gothamite.
The blood water no longer churned, and the beast shadows no longer hissed.
Zatanna Zatara was dumbfounded.
Marry?
Saintess?
Get everything?
Yale processed all possible meanings of this sentence in his mind at top speed, and then reached a conclusion that made his head buzz.
66
"You aren't willing?"
Satan in the sky was calm.
"Then have you asked her if she is willing?"
Yale on the ground was speechless.
"She was born from my blood," Trigon replied, "she belongs to me."
"And you will receive a portion of my power."
c
"This is indeed very tempting," Yale nodded, "Blood, soul, authority, crimson web; given my current situation, any single one of them could save me several years of surviving on borrowed time."
Zatanna Zatara's face turned somewhat terrified.
This guy seriously wants to be Satan's son-in-law?!
This is Trigon, after all.
In the notes left by her father Giovanni, this was King Trigon, the King of the Evildoers, the Father of the Raiders, the heinous Demon King!
She wasn't sure if she had stayed in the Blood Realm too long and hallucinated...
The Traveler actually wanted to go with Trigon...
"But unfortunately—"
Yale raised his head.
"My favorite thing to do is to tell those self-righteous guys—"
He tilted his head slightly, the smile at the corners of his mouth disappearing.
The golden pupils burned quietly amidst the crimson.
"I refuse!"
The crack on the firmament widened just a tiny bit more.
The crimson eyeball shrank slightly.
The crack in the sky remained quiet for a long time.
Zatanna Zatara almost thought Trigon had retreated, and Bruce in bat form had even wobbled and almost flown right in front of the giant eyeball.
"You will willingly marry her," Satan said.
Yale's eyebrows twitched slightly.
"Not in this lifetime." He snorted coldly.
Having been threatened harshly by a young man, Trigonwasn't angry.
The crack on the firmament slowly closed.
The giant crimson eyeball took one last look at Yale, the reflections of the World burning deep within its pupils extinguishing one by one.
When the last reflection vanished, the crack completely closed, and the crimson firmament restored its completeness.
Sebastian lay flat on the ground.
He stared blankly at the closed gap in the sky.
"Why...?"
"Why did you refuse?"
He didn't understand.
He had placed everything he could offer onto Trigon's altar, only to be exchanged with a single sentence: You are not worthy.
Yet this person who hadn't offered anything from beginning to end had received everything personally promised by Trigon.
And he...
Refused.
"Why?" Sebastian asked again.
"Because you haven't learned respect."
Yale impatiently raised his foot.
"Bang!"
The blood water burst open.
Sebastian's body sank into the blood water, leaving a slowly expanding circle of ripples on the water's surface.
Yale turned around.
Zatanna Zatara instinctively swallowed a mouthful of saliva, her head of black hair damply clinging to her face.
Her expression was very complex.
The bat circled above and landed down.
Zatanna Zatara flicked out a card to wrap around the bat.
Purple flames flashed.
The beast form disintegrated in mid-air, and Bruce Waynefell out from mid-air, landing squarely on his backside in the blood water, and promptly passed out.
Bruce Wayne felt like he was having a dream that was completely inappropriate for a seventeen-year-old boy to have in public.
He couldn't be blamed for this.
His consciousness slowly floated upward amidst warm liquid.
"Your fingers are much more flexible than I imagined."
The Traveler's voice?
"Occupational necessity," Zatanna Zatara replied, "Right, why do I feel like your body temperature is so high, completely different from an ordinary person?"
"Sorry."
The Traveler said sincerely, "Constitution issue, I can't control the heat dissipation."
"...Fine then, then move a little bit more this way, right, did you touch that protrusion?"
"Touched it, it's still beating."
"That means we found the right place," Zatanna Zatara's voice carried a hint of excitement, "Now I'll peel off this outer layer first, don't rush, let me take it slow."
With a muffled snap!!
"Why is it so hot..."
The Traveler hissed, "My fingers are going numb."
"You'll get used to it. When I went in before, it was also burning hot; the temperature will drop in a moment... Do you feel it?"
"...It really is a bit cooler."
"Then that's the spot." Zatanna Zatara's voice became even more focused, "Further in... right at that location..."
"This is too slow, I might as well just stick my entire hand in." The Traveler said calmly.
"What are you doing?!" Zatanna Zatara panicked.
"Let's just try and find out."
An arm?
Zatanna Zatara would die, wouldn't she?!!
Bruce Wayne suddenly opened his eyes.
Then he saw a giant blood egg.
The Traveler and Zatanna Zatara stood side by side in front of the blood egg, one inserting his right hand into a crack on the surface of the egg wall, the other pressing both hands against the egg wall conducting some kind of detection with purple flame light.
Both of their expressions were extremely focused.
Just like the Dr. that Bruce sometimes saw in the WayneEnterprises laboratory at four or five in the morning, still trapped in the lab.
Exhausted yet focused.
Zatanna Zatara's hat was crooked, her hair damply clinging to her temples, and her right pinky finger was still flickering with purple light on and off.
The Traveler's sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, his exposed forearms covered in crimson mucus, as he pulled his hand out from the egg wall with a look of disgust and shook it off.
"Mm..."
"How strange."
Zatanna Zatara muttered to herself with a frown, "I completely don't understand this thing."
"If you don't understand it, don't look at it." The Travelerwiped the mucus off his hands, "Can't I just smash it to pieces with one punch?"
"If you smash it to pieces, what happens to the souls trapped inside?"
"Oh, right."
"So can you have some patien—"
"You're awake?"
The Traveler's gaze suddenly crossed over Zatanna Zatara's shoulder, falling onto Bruce who was slumped in the shallow blood water behind, revealing a kind smile.
Bruce opened his mouth.
There were many things he wanted to say, but in the end there was only one sentence left:
"...What were you guys discussing just now?"
"The structure of the blood egg." Zatanna Zatara didn't even raise her head.
"When you guys are discussing the structure of a blood egg, can you be a bit more serious?" Bruce rubbed his temples wearily.
The Traveler glanced at him, obviously missing the main point, "Where are we not serious?"
"Everything..."
Bruce said concisely, "Everything is problematic."
"My dear young master, did you just time-travel from the Victorian era?" The Traveler raised his eyebrows dismissively, "We are studying magic, are you trying to witch-hunt?"
Bruce decided not to keep entangling himself in this topic.
He propped himself up by his knees from the blood water, shook his still-dizzy head, and lowered his head to inspect himself.
The suit was still on him, but his whole body was covered in light red water stains.
"I've changed back?" He breathed a sigh of relief.
"Zatanna Zatara changed you back," the Traveler said casually, "She used a playing card."
"And then you fell to the ground, face down."
"We didn't flip you over, because I figured flipping you over wouldn't look good."
"Thanks for your concern." Bruce said expressionlessly.
He walked over and stood beside the two of them, sizing up the giant egg in front of them that was still slowly pulsating.
Ever since Sebastian was stepped into the blood water by the Traveler with a single kick, the entire crimson domain had quieted down, the blood water receding to a depth below the ankles, and the crimson firmament growing increasingly dim.
"So..."
Bruce sorted through his thoughts, "What is our current situation?"
"Do you really want to hear it?"
"I spent thirty million."
"Fine."
The Traveler said expressionlessly, "We are in a spiritual domain co-constructed by the crimson web and the Blood Brotherhood ritual. All the guests' souls were pulled into this space and then stuffed into the shells of ancient animals. Sebastian used their flesh, blood, and souls to complete his self-evolution, while summoning Trigon's gaze. Then Sebastian was knocked unconscious by me, but all the guests' souls are still trapped inside this egg."
"Did you leave something out?"
"Trigon's gaze, and then what happened? Did you defeat Trigon?"
"Oh, right, you also turned into a bat."
Bruce Wayne was silent for a very long time.
Zatanna Zatara silently pressed the corners of her mouth downwards next to him.
"How long was I unconscious?" Bruce took a deep breath.
"Less than ten minutes," the Traveler comforted.
"So you..."
"Right, you were the only one among all the guests turned into animals tonight who tried to resist," the Traveleradded. "Everyone else obediently acted as animals, and only you, a bat whose fate is decided by yourself and not the heavens, were desperately trying to fly upward."
Bruce facepalmed, completely not wanting to communicate with this guy anymore.
He silently raised both hands.
Ten fingers, distinct joints.
But his body...
Still remembered the feeling of having wings.
Giving a bitter smile in his heart, Bruce looked at the giant crimson egg in front of him that was still slightly pulsating, "How do we get out?"
Zatanna Zatara raised the playing cards in her hand.
"This egg is the core anchor of the entire crimson domain. All trapped souls are connected to the crimson webthrough it." She said while drawing a purple rune on the surface of the egg wall, "If I use a palindrome spell to cut off the links on the egg wall, and simultaneously release a guiding spell at the moment the core disintegrates to send the souls back to their respective bodies..."
"Make it brief." Yale reminded.
"I chant the spell, you smash it, everyone wakes up, we go home."
"I like this plan."
"Is there any risk?" Bruce frowned.
"The risk is that if Mr. Traveler's fist arrives faster than my spell, the trapped souls will lose their way back when the core disintegrates." Zatanna Zatara said seriously.
"Why can't your spell be slower than my fist?" The Traveler retorted.
"It can."
Zatanna Zatara took a deep breath, "But it absolutely cannot be earlier."
"Then stop chattering."
Yale faced the blood egg.
Zatanna Zatara pulled the last four playing cards from the deck.
Ace of Hearts, King of Diamonds, Queen of Spades, and the Joker.
"You've been holding onto the trump card the whole time?" Bruce raised an eyebrow.
"A good magician always saves the last card for the curtain call." Zatanna Zatara said lightly.
She fanned out the four cards, and purple flames ignited sequentially from the card faces, forming a temporary scepter composed of light flames and playing cards.
"Are you ready?" She asked the Traveler.
"Always ready." The Traveler moved his wrists.
Zatanna Zatara shrugged and raised her hand.
The four burning playing cards faced the blood egg, the suits on each card twisting and deforming in the purple flames, piecing together into a complete palindrome spell array.
— Nruter ot erehw uoy gnoleb (Return to where you belong)
Her voice echoed across the blood plain.
Every syllable chanted backward caused resonance on the surface of the blood egg, umbilical cords lighting up and extinguishing one by one.
Eerf meht alla (Leave none behind!)
The reversed words fell.
Yale's pupils shrank.
He saw all the residual blood water in the entire crimson space flowing backward at the exact same instant.
Converging toward the surface of the giant egg from all directions, layering crimson armor upon crimson armor on the egg wall, as if this egg was using the last breath of the entire domain before its death to protect its own core!
"Open up for me!"
Yale threw a punch.
"Bang—!"
Cracks spread in all directions!
The entire crimson domain began to collapse!
The firmament shattered like glass, fragments falling toward their heads, the ground splitting to both sides beneath their feet, revealing the bottomless darkness below, and the blood water turning into steam and dissipating in the collapsing space...
Amidst a sheet of white light, a beam of crimson light leaped into the center of the eyebrows.
And then...
"Click."
The banquet hall.
The antique clock on the wall ticked past one second.
Everyone stood in place, maintaining their respective final postures.
Someone was holding a wine glass, someone was talking to the person next to them, someone was looking down at their phone.
As if the World had simply taken a nap.
The crimson firmament, the ancient giant beasts, the armor forged from human bones, the burning cross.
To everyone, nothing had happened.
Bruce Wayne slowly blinked.
He found himself standing by the window of the hall, holding that glass of 1963 Fonseca in his right hand.
The whole person looked completely indistinguishable from a second ago.
"Someone is dead!!!"
This scream came from the direction of the main door.
"Adrian Mercer!"
Gordon reacted first, walking with long strides toward the door.
Bruce remembered this name; right before the crimson domain opened, Mercer had knocked aside the security guards and rushed out the door.
The exact moment Gordon pushed open the door and walked out, Bruce saw his back stiffen.
Then came the screams of several guests who had crowded around the doorway.
Bruce walked over and took a look.
Adrian Mercer lay face down on the red carpet.
His head...
Had blown apart.
"Mr. Mercer!"
A security guard squatted down wanting to flip his body over.
"Don't touch!" Gordon snapped.
He squatted down to take a look at Mercer, then slowly stood up, his expression very unsightly.
"Go back!"
Gordon's voice was colder than the night wind, "Everyone back to the hall."
This time no one dared not to listen.
The banquet hall doors closed again.
Everyone returned inside the hall, looked at each other for a few seconds, and simultaneously began to pretend nothing had happened.
Someone picked up their wine glass again, a few ladies walked to the restroom to touch up their makeup, and Cobblepot even hurried over to a collector to continue talking about the vintage of his Iceberg antiquities.
After all, this is Gotham...
In this city, anyone who managed to mix to the level of attending the Iceberg Lounge charity dinner was an old hand who had experienced shootings,
Kidnapping, intimidation, and all sorts of bizarre accidents, yet could still sign documents on the board of directors without changing their expression.
Let alone someone dying at the doorway.
Even if three people were shot and killed in the hall tonight, they would still have the ability to turn the incident into an unfortunate alcohol-fueled dispute in the next morning's Gotham Gazette".
And what truly bothered Bruce was...
He saw Yale Kent standing beside him at some unknown moment.
His golden hair was a bit messy.
His complexion was pale.
Frowning slightly, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Come to think of it...
He was no seasoned veteran, just an ordinary, unremarkable comic creator.
Yale Kent, eighteen years old, a comic creator from Kansas.
The Traveler, the mysterious figure of the Dream Council, able to fly and pierce through dimensions.
Two people appeared in the crimson web simultaneously; one stood dazed in the crowd, while the other ran amok across the blood-soaked plains.
A person could not be in two places at the same time.
"Mr. Bruce?"
Yale spoke first, looking dazed as he said, "Just now... what happened? I seemed to have zoned out for a moment."
"Probably low blood sugar." Bruce smiled. "Gotham's air isn't very good. Newcomers often get dizzy. It's no big deal."
"True."
Yale wore an expression of relief, then sighed, "It's a pity there seem to be too many accidents tonight; the award ceremony cannot proceed as scheduled."
"Indeed." Bruce shook his head.
"Well, since the award ceremony cannot proceed as scheduled."
"Mr. Bruce, I seem to be feeling a bit unwell." He rubbed his temples. "Someone from the Kansas countryside really isn't quite used to Gotham's climate... I think I'll take my leave first."
"Of course."
Bruce nodded slightly. "Be safe, Mr. Kent. Someone will personally deliver the cultural award to your home after a while."
"Certainly."
The blonde youth turned and walked toward the exit of the hall.
Bruce watched his back, watching that golden head weave through the crowd, politely nodding and greeting several passing publishers, and then pushing open the door from the side hall leading to the back corridor.
How could the knowledgeable and elegant Mr. Yale Kentpossibly be that scumbag of a Traveler who spouted nonsense everywhere, sat on a fire hydrant crossing his legs to watch people fight, and spoke of nothing but extra money at every turn?
How could that be?
Bruce shook his head slightly, finishing the last sip of Fonseca in his glass.
Impossible.
He had seen with his own eyes in the crimson web that two people appeared simultaneously: one stood dazed in the crowd, while the other beat up a T-Rex in the sea of blood.
Unless the Traveler knew the art of division.
But that was too absurd...
As absurd as saying Bruce Wayne was actually a superhero.
Who would believe such a thing?
He placed the empty wine glass onto the waiter's tray.
Lightning split the night sky outside the window, and rain drew the distorted outline of Gotham on the glass.
Yale walked out of the side door of the banquet hall, crossed the back corridor paved with dark red carpets, and reached the exit leading to the backyard.
The night wind wrapped in rain hit his face.
He was just about to take off.
"Mr. Kent."
A voice came from the shadows.
Yale's eye twitched.
Yet Zatanna Zatara was standing in the shadows at the end of the corridor, the collar of her white shirt slightly open, her magic hat held in her hand, and her head of black hair still wetly clinging to her cheeks.
"Ms. Zatara?" Yale stopped in confusion.
"You forgot something." Zatanna walked over with a smile, taking out a business card from her suit's inner pocket and handing it to him.
"My business card."
"Ms. Zatara..." Yale took the business card. "I recall we didn't quite reach the stage of exchanging business cards?"
"Life is inherently full of unexpected surprises."
Zatanna put her hat back on her head, flicked the brim, and a smile still hung on the corners of her mouth.
"However, since you said you would incorporate magicelements into your comics in the future, I think contact information for a technical consultant is still necessary."
"It is my honor." Yale smiled and tucked the business card into his palm. "Having the contact information of the future World's greatest magician is definitely something worth bragging about to my editor."
"The World's greatest?" Zatanna's eyebrows raised slightly, her tone revealing a hint of delight as if tickled in the right spot. "Your evaluation of a magician you've only met once is a bit too high."
"I am talking about the future."
Yale corrected her. "As for now... your hat is still crooked..."
Zatanna reached out and touched the brim of her hat.
Well, it really was crooked.
She pursed her lips, straightened the hat, then took a step back, curtsied slightly, pressed her hat with one hand, and thus bowed to Yale in a curtain call at the boundary of light and shadow in the corridor.
"Good night, Mr. Comic Creator."
"Good night, Ms. Magician."
The girl turned and walked back into the depths of the corridor, but after walking a few steps, she suddenly paused, turned back as if wanting to say something, but in the end simply smiled at Yale, waved, and disappeared on the other side of the double doors.
Yale watched her leave.
Only after the footsteps in the corridor completely vanished did he lower his head to look at the business card in his hand.
The silver letters on the business card...
Were written backwards.
Yale flipped the business card over.
There was only a line of small text on the back, also written backwards...
He rearranged the letters in his mind.
"Zatanna Zatara"
"Store Owner, Zatanna's One-Stop Shop for magic and Mystical Affairs, Fifth Avenue, Times Square"
Stuffing the business card back into his suit's inner pocket, Yale leaped up.
Gotham's rainy night unfolded beneath his feet.
Hovering beneath the rain clouds, he overlooked the city that was forever raining.
Super Vision easily saw it.
Bruce Wayne was sitting next to the bar counter. Gordonhad sat down across from him at some point, holding a glass of whiskey someone had shoved into his hand, and the two were chatting off and on about something.
Zatanna returned to the main hall and the moment she appeared, she was surrounded by the manager and two security guards, presumably asking her where she had just gone and why she left the hall at such a time.
Yale turned and flew in the direction of Smallville.
Everything was returning to normal.
At least it seemed that way.
If one didn't pay attention to a raven perched on the gargoyle at the highest point of the Iceberg Lounge's dome.
Black feathers clung to its body, and it squatted quietly in the heavy rain, not even shaking its feathers to shed the water, as if getting drenched in the rain was as natural to it as breathing.
A pair of eyes glowing with a faint purple light pierced through the rain curtain, staring unblinkingly at the departing golden figure.
Banquet hall.
After Gordon was called away by the Police.
Bruce strolled aimlessly around the hall holding his wine glass.
"You are waiting for me."
Zatanna appeared beside him at some point, holding a glass of sparkling water.
"You are also waiting for me." Bruce said casually.
The two leaned side-by-side against opposite sides of a colonnade, separated by a marble pillar, neither looking at the other.
From an outsider's perspective.
This was just two young people on the fringes of a social setting happen to stand together, not even counting as a conversation.
After a moment of silence.
"The Traveler."
Zatanna lowered her voice. "How do you know him?"
Bruce thought about how to answer this question.
"I've seen him in a place." He said, "A very far place."
"How far?"
"Far enough that an airplane can't reach it."
"What kind of person is he?"
"I don't know." Bruce's answer was very frank. "I only know he is very strong, and he has his own rules for doing things."
"What are his rules?"
"Discuss the price first, then discuss morality."
Zatanna couldn't help letting out a laugh.
"By the way, what about that Yale Kent?" she asked. "What do you think of him?"
Bruce turned his head slightly.
"A comic creator from Kansas."
"Eighteen years old, polite, talkative, what he writes has depth, but he himself seems to only care about word rates and distribution channels."
"He is a different kind of person from the Traveler."
"Completely different kinds of people."
"Mhm."
Zatanna nodded. "Completely different."
The two fell silent again.
Lightning flashed outside the window again, and muffled thunder rolled across Gotham's rooftops, causing the champagne tower to ripple slightly.
"Zatanna." Bruce suddenly said.
"Hmm?"
"Thank you for your help tonight." He turned rare serious. "If it weren't for your magic... those people wouldn't have been able to come back."
"I didn't help you." Zatanna shook her head. "I helped them."
Bruce froze for a moment, intending to continue speaking.
"Bruce!"
Gordon waved from the bar counter. "Come over for a couple of drinks? Thanks to your intelligence tonight, even though that bastard Mercer ended up falling to his death by himself... it saved me a lot of trouble."
"The donut budget was saved too." Gordon added with a loud laugh.
But the bitterness between his brows could not be dispelled no matter what.
"I'll be right there, Mr. Gordon."
Bruce nodded slightly to Zatanna, placed the empty wine glass on the waiter's tray, and walked toward the bar.
Zatanna watched his back, just wanting to breathe a sigh of relief and turn to leave...
"Zatanna."
A soft voice came from behind her.
Her whole body tightened.
"Aun-Auntie."
She turned around and saw Isabelle Vale standing on the other side of the colonnade, holding a glass of red wine.
"You've worked hard."
"With so many things happening tonight, you must be very tired."
"Not bad... not bad..." Zatanna stuttered. "It's a bit of a pity the performance was cancelled, but thinking that someone died makes such regret amount to nothing."
"Indeed."
Isabelle sighed lightly.
"However, your performance tonight makes me very gratified."
"Maintaining calm amidst chaos is a tradition of the Zatara family."
"Thank you, Auntie."
"Go back and get a good rest." Isabelle reached out and straightened Zatanna's hair dampened by the rain. "During the time Giovanni is away, you can come find me anytime."
Giovanni...
Zatanna's eyelashes trembled slightly.
"I know." She said softly.
Then she performed a proper farewell bow, turned around, and walked briskly toward the exit of the hall.
She was always a bit afraid of this aunt.
An indescribable sense of unease.
Every time she spoke with Isabelle, she felt as if she were performing on a stage whose boundaries she could not see.
This feeling was very uncomfortable.
Especially for a magician whose livelihood depended on controlling the stage.
After Zatanna left, Isabelle stood in place for a while longer, looking at the direction where she had disappeared.
The silver-gray gem ring flickered slightly under the light, resembling an eye opening and closing.
Isabelle turned and walked into the side hall.
The corpse had already been carried away, and the blood stains were cleaned up fairly well.
A bit inauspicious, but it had the advantage of being quiet.
Isabelle dialed a number.
"Madam."
The voice on the other side was extremely respectful.
"Have Stormfront continue pushing forward the research on meteorological weapons." Isabelle's voice turned cold, Worlds apart from the gentleness when she spoke to Zatanna just now. "Don't let her think about her old lover all day long. Tell her the budget I gave her isn't used for chasing love."
"Understood."
"And."
Her gaze swept past her own reflection mirrored on the side hall's window.
"Continue pushing forward the debut plan of the Alpha Twins."
"I want to see one of them appear in Gotham and one in Metropolis before next month."
"As the superheroes of this city, the arbiters of this city, as the agents executing our will."
"Understood?"
"Of course."
Isabelle hung up the phone, then looked behind her expressionlessly.
A person wearing an owl mask silently emerged from the shadows.
"Madam." He said respectfully.
Isabelle took a deep breath.
Her expression finally changed.
Carrying a trace of anger.
She had almost been backstabbed by someone!
The attendant behind her shivered slightly.
He had followed this First Lady for decades, and this was the first time he had seen such clear emotional fluctuations on her face.
"Pass down my order."
Isabelle crushed the wine glass in her hand, the red wine trickling down her smooth skin, yet it couldn't hurt her in the slightest, the fragments simply falling onto the marble floor with clinking sounds.
"Release the Talons."
"Those rats, leave not a single one."
"Yes."
The attendant stepped back in panic, lowered his head, and vanished into the darkness of the side hall.
Gotham, sewers.
Sebastian Blood VIII woke up from the blood pool.
His soul had also returned to reality following the explosion of the blood egg.
"One day..." Gritting his teeth, Sebastian sat up from the sewage, "One day I will..."
"Clang!"
His pupils shrank abruptly, and he tilted his head slightly.
Yet he saw a flying knife shoot out from the darkness, embedding itself into the wall beside him.
An owl was engraved on the hilt of the knife.
A large group of shadows also swarmed in with a swish-swish-swish sound.
They wore snowy owl masks.
Wearing black form-fitting combat suits, each person had all kinds of cold weapons hanging at their waist.
Talons.
The executors of the Court of Owls.
Gotham's true dark night clean-up crew.
"Owls."
Looking at this group of gods of death walking out from the shadows, Sebastian took a deep breath.
"You've come well, coming even better than that Traveler."
"Now, have your master come out."
"Shall we make peace? How about that?"
The snowy owl masks did not answer.
Only the flash of blades lit up in the darkness.