174 Chapter 174: The Night of the Clown's Resurrection (Part 3)

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Batman surveyed his surroundings and turned to Schiller, asking, "Do you think I can take him now?"

As a tactical master, Batman was not blindly confident. He saw hundreds of crazed individuals drawn by the smell of alcohol, and infected madmen closing in on him from all sides.

As the Dionysian factor continued to spread, there were also restless sounds coming from the distant buildings. It was clear that more people had been infected.

"I said you could do it if you can," Schiller shrugged and said, "This is just a simulation test. If you fail, be prepared to be beaten by the official examiner."

"I feel like you're implying something," Batman replied, before throwing two bat darts at Alberto. He knew he had to attract the attention of these crazies. If he withdrew, these monsters would rush into Gotham, causing countless tragedies. So, even though he knew that retreat was the best tactic, he couldn't leave.

Alberto dodged the bat darts and laughed maniacally before attacking Batman, and the two began to fight.

On the other side, Schiller had already entered the Church and stood at the edge of the green pool, looking at the liquid inside. He muttered to himself, "This guy who fell into the Dionysian factor... Was it in a chemical factory? Or a circus? Or could it be..."

Then he continued with a bit of confusion, "Batman didn't choose him after all. I thought..."

At this moment, a person wearing a bird mask emerged from behind his Jesus statue base and said, "It's you, you've been interfering with us."

Schiller raised an eyebrow and said, "Don't disturb my thinking."

"You will pay the price for opposing the Court of Owls," the person in the bird mask warned.

Schiller seemed a little impatient and said, "What, haven't your companions' fate made you more restrained yet?"

"Are you talking about those idiots you trapped? Me and them are not the same..."

"I'm talking about those who drowned in their own excrement."

The person across from him choked, seemingly disgusted by his own involuntary association. He said, "How dare you mention that despicable trap!"

"That's still better than your stupid and unimaginative plans. Water supply plan? Do you have any other dumb ideas? Firestarter plan?"

"Stupid plan?!" The person across from him raised his voice and said, "Look, we've created a real immortal crazy person using fine wine! He will be Gotham's eternal nightmare! Look outside..."

Outside the Church, Batman was in a fierce battle, as the first batch of infected crazies had already surrounded him. He was now in the midst of being beaten by dozens of people, and his superior martial arts skills had not gained him much advantage. He had already suffered some injuries.

"What you have created doesn't matter. What matters is that Batman didn't choose him."

"What are you talking about? Haven't you realized yet? The toxin has already boiled! It will spread throughout Gotham city! What you've done is useless! This city will eventually fall into madness..."

Schiller looked at Alberto, who was being attacked by a group of people, and sighed, "If I were Batman, I wouldn't choose him either."

The bird-masked man on the opposite side continued talking to himself, "This is the greatest achievement of the water source plan! The eternal nightmare of Gotham! As long as he exists, destruction and chaos will never stop! He will drag the entire city into the abyss!"

"Well, how should I put it..."

"Your formula is correct, but you used the wrong values."

Then Schiller sighed again and said, "No one can control Batman, let alone his opponents, not even the Court of Owls."

"Batman? You mean the stray dog ​​outside that's about to be beaten to death?"

"I advise you to save him now, or it will be too late."

"Are you threatening me? That's so cliché..."

"No, of course not."

The bird-masked man stared at him and asked, "Are you still in the mood to play games? In less than ten hours, half of Gotham City will be infected with madness. Do you understand how terrifying that situation is?"

"That's not the scary part. You don't understand. The real terror is not the zombie siege..."

Schiller sighed and seemed uninterested in continuing the conversation with the other person. He disappeared in front of the person and reappeared on the rooftop of the Church's bell tower. Then he finished the sentence he didn't finish earlier, "The real terror is...the resurrection of the Joker."

Downstairs, the situation was becoming increasingly unfavorable for Batman as he was outnumbered. He couldn't gain the upper hand in this bitter fight, and more importantly, these madmen didn't care about anything. Some methods used to interfere with the opponent were useless, and they still screamed and pounced even if their eyes were hit by Batarangs.

Batman had never faced such a fearless opponent before, and he paid the price for his lack of experience.

He felt fresh blood seeping into his eyes from his forehead, which made his vision turn blood red. He had taken a hit to his shin from a brick and was now experiencing intense pain in his ankle, causing him to kneel down on the ground. Following that were a flurry of punches and weapons raining down on him like raindrops. His brain was filled with chaotic noises, as if all his internal organs had shifted out of place.

Batman collapsed, gasping for breath.

Through his blurred vision, he saw a flash of bright light on the street in front of the church. He saw countless legs surrounding him like a dense forest, and beyond the forest, a beam of intense light shining in, melting away the dark tree trunks.

In a daze, he saw that it was the high beams of a truck. Along with the screams coming from afar, a huge truck charged into the crowd, sending countless people flying and stopping right in front of Batman.

Lying on the ground, gasping for breath, Batman looked up and saw a ghastly white face and a sinister smile on the driver.

Suddenly, an endless fear rose in his heart, and the black tide in his mind began to surge. Lying on the ground, he saw a familiar night sky in the flickering light and shadow, as if a group of bats he was familiar with were flying past.

He seemed to have turned back into the helpless little Bruce, blood dripping from his forehead and splattering on the ground like a string of blood-red pearls.

He heard a burst of laughter, not as loud or piercing as before, but rather low and gentle, as if ringing in his heart, driving Batman crazy with the desire to get up and see who it was.

Alberto turned to look at the truck, and the driver of the truck, wearing work clothes, opened the door and laughed softly, his shoulders shaking as if he was admiring his own masterpiece.

The laughter didn't sound crazy at all, but even carried a bit of childlike innocence, as if when he was a child, he had overturned toy soldiers with his toy truck, reveling in the malice that only belonged to children.

Alberto and the other lunatics were stunned for a moment, then began to attack the unfamiliar intruder.

To their surprise, the truck driver screamed in panic, as if he had just realized what was happening. He ran out of the street, hiding behind the wall of a building, peeking out from the corner as if he was curious about what was happening here.

Alberto lowered his head, intending to continue attacking Batman who had fallen.

Then, the truck exploded.

A violent roar rose, flames splashing, and the entire Church, along with the street in front of it, turned into ruins in an instant.

Only a small part of Church survived, which was further away from the street. Schiller's figure appeared again on the top of the tower there.

A figure limped out from the other side of the street. Obviously, he was also affected. His face was covered in blood, and his legs were injured, but he ran excitedly towards the center of the explosion.

When he arrived, he looked around dazedly, seeming not to find what he was looking for. Suddenly, a figure appeared not far from him. Schiller reached out and pointed to the right, saying, "Batman was just blown away over there."

The truck driver took a look at Schiller, blinked, and seemed to be confused about how Schiller appeared there.

Ignoring him, Schiller said to himself, "The person I'm looking for... let me see... oh, here he is. How did he fly so far?"

"That's because I made a huge, huge, huge, huge bomb!" A burst of chuckles accompanied a hoarse voice.

"Well, this bomb is really powerful, and you have solved the problem from a physical perspective," Schiller said perfunctorily.

The truck driver stared at him and asked, "Are you saying that I'm too rough? How can you say that?"

"I advise you to hurry up and find Batman, or he will die soon."

The man suddenly realized and hurriedly limped towards the direction Schiller pointed.

Schiller bypassed the Church gate and found Alberto at a ruin across the street. He walked over, holding his arm, gloatingly asking, "The wine god factor only makes you not die, but it doesn't make you feel no pain. How do you feel, Falcone?"

Then his tone gradually turned cold, and he said, "Or should I call you Claw, the member of the Court of Owls, Alberto?"

Schiller turned his head and saw the person wearing a bird mask lying on the ground, also covered in blood and about to die.

Schiller continued gloatingly, "I told you that terrible things would happen, but you didn't listen. You had no way to escape, yet you dared to approach the center of the battlefield. I don't know whether to praise your bravery or say that you're stupid."

As the only one standing unscathed on the battlefield, Schiller activated his merciless taunting mode and mimicked the words of the Court of Owls member, "Look there, that's your great creation for the water source plan!"

"Well, that's not entirely accurate. He wasn't created by you, and he doesn't listen to you at all," the Court of Owls member replied, either angered or choking on his words.

Schiller then turned to Alberto and said, "If Batman had chosen you, maybe things would be different, but unfortunately, he didn't."

"Not just him, nobody chose you, including me."

Despite the fact that Alberto had superhuman recovery abilities due to the Dionysium Factor, he quickly regained consciousness from his near-death state and had a bad premonition.

He suddenly realized that he had lost control of his body.

He looked at Schiller in horror and saw that a gray mist was emanating from his eyes. Alberto grasped his own neck and said, "No, no!!!"

Schiller muttered to himself, "This is indeed my Easter gift to you..."

A strand of gray mist, tinged with a faint green light, floated out of Alberto's eyes, and then Schiller took a jar and caught the mist, closing the lid.

"Happy Easter, Evans."

The blond youth lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

Schiller held the jar and approached the Court of Owls member, shaking it in front of him and saying, "Thank you for helping me extract the pure Dionysium Factor."

The last thing the Court of Owls member saw before dying was Schiller's spine-chilling smile.

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