Chapter 1198 The Cry of the Lamb (10)

The cold storm in Batman's blue eyes never stopped. When Angela left the Wayne Tower office, Bruce was left standing alone in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the entire city alone. Brother Tan looks surprisingly prosperous at any time. Lan

This is not a sin city at all. It is the largest, most prosperous, and most charming city on the east coast of the United States. It is a psychedelic city that countless people dream of, and it is an indispensable part of human urban civilization.

This is the cancer of the earth, the scourge of mankind, and the home of Batman.

Standing in front of the window, staring at the city, Bruce heard a slight noise coming from behind him. He turned around slightly and saw a figure sitting on the sofa against the light. It was another version of himself.

Bruce didn't feel any surprise or vigilance, as if it was normal for him to appear there?

In other words, after that night in Crime Alley, this figure followed him like a shadow and never left.

Bruce walked over and sat on the opposite side of the sofa. Two identical figures sat in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. Thousands of lights composed of stacked tall buildings reflected them into two silhouettes. They were not alone, but equally Lonely.

"I was not born today." Bruce, who was sitting on the right, raised his head. There were no holes in his eyes, but there were no whites either. There was a flowing black tide between his eyelids, but it was not scary. , but it has a strange sense of beauty. Lan

"The female police officer said that in the process of constantly tracking down the murder, she understood the group of criminals and discovered another self. She felt fearful and chose to retreat, but you know, she was not suffering from mental illness or Whatever hallucinations she said are true, and she is not alone."

Bruce sitting opposite him also had no eyes, only white eyes, paler than any snow in Gotham.

"We should talk about that night first." Bruce with black eyes said, "That night you never talked about to anyone."

Bruce, who had white eyes, slowly closed his eyes. His hand on the armrest gradually tightened, and his chest began to rise and fall continuously. Countless fragmentary scenes flashed before his eyes.

But not alleys, rainy nights, pearl necklaces.

He saw his raised hands, saw the sight of the pistol, saw how bullets flew from the muzzle, and saw how his parents fell.

"Every strong detective must be a good criminal." The voice of black-eyed Bruce sounded. He turned to look at the bustling city and then spoke. Lan

"You didn't become a detective because of that night. You have always been a criminal genius. You are born to resonate with the murderer."

"Too many people in this world have lost their parents in tragic and tragic ways. There are too many children who have witnessed their parents die and feel sad and desperate. But there is only one Batman in this world."

"You did not embark on such a path because of the death of your parents. Your wisdom, intelligence, excessive reason, and genius creativity are gifts from God, just like those born killers."

Bruce with white eyes slowly loosened his grip on the armrest, while Bruce with black eyes stared at him and said:

"I wasn't born that night, when you first saw Thomas' face, when you first remembered Martha's smile, when the Wayne family spent their normal days happily. , I never left.”

"I was born with you. I am a part of you. It is the pathology that you have been running away from but can never get rid of."

When sick Bruce fell silent, Bruce stared at him with slightly distracted eyes and said: Lan

"I have seen you many times, under the crib, behind the door of the kindergarten, and even in a castle made of toy blocks."

“I wanted to make Thomas and Martha sad about my disappearance by hiding under the bed, I wanted to suddenly open the door and scare the kindergarten teacher, I wanted to kick the block castle into pieces and scare all the classmates. Wow, cry, I see you in these times.”

"But at that time, we only sent out ordinary malice, and every child would have thoughts of mischief. Therefore, I did not realize that I was different from others until that night..."

"The moment I saw the muzzle of the gun." Bruce's arm began to tremble again, and he said in the same trembling tone: "I had two perspectives. I saw the blood blooming behind Martha, and also Saw, through the pistol sight, the scarlet blood flowing from Thomas's chest."

"In every nightmare that followed, I couldn't tell where I was standing, behind them or in front of them. I couldn't tell what I was holding, whether it was a movie ticket stub or the trigger of a pistol."

"There has never been a clear dividing line between detectives and criminals." Pathological Bruce said: "What has caused you great pain in the past ten years is exactly the fact that you realized that night. The triggerman is the same type of person, or in other words, you are more suitable to be a criminal than him."

Bruce took a deep breath until his shoulders hunched up, and then slowly sighed out. The sickly Bruce looked at him and asked:

"Why would you never take another person's life?"

Bruce stared into his eyes, but sickly Bruce didn't need an answer. He asked and answered himself:

"Is it because of your kindness? No, it's because you don't dare. It's because you don't dare to see me or admit my existence. You think that being a saint can erase the fact that you have a unique criminal talent in the world. ”

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Bruce slowly closed his eyes, his lips trembled, and then he raised his eyes again and looked at sick Bruce and said:

"And today, I will see you here because Schiller made me understand the fact that you exist, can't be let go, can never be eliminated, and even... guide and guide me. of."

"Actually, you have thought about it a long time ago." Pathological Bruce said: "What is it that guides human actions? What is it that makes human progress? Is it love? Is it kindness?"

Bruce shook his head. His movements were very gentle, but he seemed to be pushing a boulder off the cliff. Lan

"It's you," Bruce replied.

"In the past ten years, what has urged me to continue to learn, improve myself, and build equipment is not my love and kindness towards anyone, but hatred, anger, jealousy, fear, the inherent evil of human beings, and my Sick."

"Before this, I always had unrealistic illusions about expelling you. I thought that as long as I was strong and determined enough, one day you would leave, and on that day, I would be free from the nightmare of the past. Never have to worry about becoming a criminal again."

"But Schiller makes you understand that I will never leave, and I don't have to leave. I am not your burden, not your shackles, but a sharp knife and the key to the door to another world." Ill. Bruce answered.

"Only by seeing me, acknowledging me, and using me can you go to a world that ordinary people can never reach. In that world, there is the most terrifying group of people in the world. They are called 'natural born killers'."

Bruce seemed to have lost all his strength, leaning back on the chair feebly, and then said in sick Bruce's words:

"Before, the reason why I could keep running away and denying your existence was because I didn't realize the danger of this group of people." Lan

"And the appearance of sick Schiller made me understand that if I don't face you, don't use the other power I have, and don't really get into the hearts of madmen, I will never be able to defeat them."

"You have to get to know me."

"I want to get to know you."

The two Bruces said in unison.

"You have to accept me."

"I want to accept you."

"You have to love me." Lan

"I want to love you."

"because……"

"Those who can deal with criminals..."

"...Only criminals."

"How are you going to defeat them?" Bruce asked.

"I don't need to defeat them." Sick Bruce replied. He looked Bruce in the eyes and said: "Schiller is not only teaching you, but also teaching me. You have a professor and so do I."

"What Sick Schiller has done has shown me that I don't need to defeat madmen, because I am stronger than them, and I don't need to hurt them, because they are precious lambs." Lan

“Be not the son of anyone, but be the father of all.”

"As they offer sacrifices to please you, say to them, 'If you do well, are you not accepted? But if you do poorly, sin lurks at the door, and its desire is for you. But you have to subdue it (If you do well, why won’t your Lord be happy to accept the sacrifice? If you don’t do well, sin will haunt you, but you have to let it bow its head) (Genesis) 4:7 (NKJV)'.

The light coming through the window gradually dimmed, leaving only the gorgeous and dreamy neon light and shadow, and Bruce's voice was like a low-pitched prayer, gradually rising in the silent place.

“Use your gifts.”

"Use my gifts."

"Standing high in the clouds."

"Standing high in the clouds." Lan

“Preach to them.”

“Preach to them.”

"Let them listen."

"Let them pay tribute."

“Love them as a fragile lamb.”

"Understand them and comfort them."

"Whip them and discipline them." Lan

"That they may walk upon the earth."

"As you walk in my country."

"Becoming a father."

"Become...Father."

When the cold light of the batarang is reflected in Batman's blue eyes, it's like a bird catching a glimpse of the skyline in a polar storm.

The sharp blade cut through the frozen atmosphere in the Sheriff's Office, and with an icy wake, it slit the artery on the side of Jonathan Crane's neck.

In an instant, vitality burst out from the bright red, and then began to flow irrevocably. Lan

Gordon rushed over in shock and hugged Jonathan who was slowly falling. He stared at Batman who threw the batarang with wide eyes and yelled:

"Batman, are you crazy?!

Jonathan, who was lying on the ground, tried his best to push away Gordon who was trying to stop the bleeding. He covered his bleeding neck with weak hands and spoke in a broken voice.

"Get away!...let me hear...what he is saying..."

Batman's lips moved.

At this time, a bright flash of lightning flashed outside the window of the Gotham Police Station, and rumbling thunder followed one after another, just like every night when Batman fell from the roof of the building.

Batman's voice was very soft, but it drowned out the deafening thunder. All the things he had not been able to say in countless nights were woven into a cry with this soft tone.

Jonathan listened carefully and heard the words Batman said.

"...Mossen Street Disappearance Case."