The cold storm in Batman's blue eyes never stopped, and when Angela left the Wayne Building office, Bruce was left alone in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, looking down on the city alone, Gotham looked amazingly prosperous at any time.

This is not a sin city at all, it is the largest, most prosperous and charming city on the East Coast of the United States, the psychedelic capital that countless people dream of, and an integral part of human urban civilization.

This is the cancer of the earth, the scourge of humanity, and the hometown of Batman.

Standing in front of the window, gazing at the city, Bruce heard a slight noise behind him, and he turned back slightly, and saw a figure sitting on the sofa against the light, it was another himself.

Bruce didn't feel any surprise or vigilance, as if he was there, as normal as it could be?

Or rather, after the night of Crime Alley passed, this figure was like a shadow, never leaving.

Bruce walked over and sat across from the couch, two identical figures sitting in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the lights of the thousands of homes formed by the layers of high-rise buildings, reflecting them as two silhouettes, not alone, but equally lonely.

"I wasn't born today." Bruce, who was sitting on the right, raised his head, there were no pupils in his eye sockets, but there were no whites of his eyes, and there was a flowing black tide between his eyelids, but it was not terrifying, but there was a strange beauty.

"The policewoman said that in the process of pursuing the murder, she understood the group of criminals and discovered another self, and she felt fear, so she chose to retreat, but you know, she is not suffering from mental illness or hallucinations, what she said is true, and she is not alone."

Bruce, who sat across from him, also had no pupils, only white whites, paler than any snow in Gotham.

"We should talk about that night first." The black-eyed Bruce spoke, "That night you never talked to anyone. ”

The white-eyed Bruce slowly closed his eyes, his hand on the armrest gradually tightened, his chest began to rise and fall continuously, and countless fragmentary scenes flashed before his eyes.

But not alleys, rainy nights, pearl necklaces.

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

"Every strong detective is bound to be a good criminal." The black-eyed Bruce's voice rang out, and he turned his head to look at the bustling city before speaking.

"You didn't become a detective because of that night, you've always been a criminal genius, and you were born to resonate with murderers."

"There are too many people in this world whose parents have died, and there are too many children who have witnessed their parents die, feeling sad and hopeless, but in this world, there is only one Batman."

"You didn't go down such a path because of the death of your parents, your intelligence, your cleverness, your excessive sanity, your genius creativity, is a gift from God, just like those born murderers."

The white-eyed Bruce's grip on the armrest slowly loosened, while the black-eyed Bruce stared at him and said:

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

"I was born with you, a part of you, something you've been running away from, but can never get rid of—sickness."

When sick Bruce fell silent, Bruce stared at him with a slightly distracted look and said:

"I've seen you many times, under the bed of a crib, behind a kindergarten door, or even in a castle built with toy blocks."

"I want to make Thomas and Martha feel sad about my disappearance by hiding under the bed, I want to suddenly push the door and make the kindergarten teacher feel terrified, I want to kick the brick castle and make all the classmates cry, I see you all these times."

"But at that time, all we were sending out was ordinary malice, and every child would have mischievous thoughts, so I didn't realize that I was different from others until that night......"

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

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

"There is never a clear dividing line between detectives and criminals." Bruce said, "For more than ten years, what has made you feel extremely painful is the fact that you realized that night, that you are the same kind of person as the murderer who pulled the trigger that night, or that you are more suitable to be a criminal than him. ”

Bruce took a deep breath until his entire shoulder shrugged, and then slowly sighed out of the breath, and sickly Bruce looked at him and asked:

"Why do you never take away someone's life?"

Bruce stared into his eyes, but Bruce didn't need to answer, he asked himself:

"Because of your kindness? No, you don't dare, because you don't dare to see me, you don't dare to admit my existence, and you think that by being a saint, you can clear the fact that you have a unique gift for crime in this world. ”

Bruce slowly closed his eyes, his lips trembled for a moment, and then he looked up at the sick Bruce again and said:

"And today, I am here to see you because, Schiller, I understand the fact that you exist, you cannot be separated, you can never be destroyed, even ...... Guided and guided me. ”

"Actually, you've thought about it for a long time." Morbid Bruce spoke, "What is it that directs human action?" What is it that makes humanity progress? Is it love? Is it good? ”

Bruce shook his head, his movements light, but as if he was struggling to push a boulder off a cliff.

"It's you." Bruce replied.

"In the past ten years, what has urged me to keep learning, improving myself, and building equipment is not my love and kindness to anyone, but hatred, anger, jealousy, fear, the innate evil of human beings, and my pathology."

"Until then, I had always had unrealistic illusions about expelling you, and I thought that if I was strong and determined enough, one day you would leave, and that day I would be free from the nightmare of the past, and I would never have to fear that I would be a criminal again."

"But Schiller has made you understand that I will never leave, and I will not have to, that I am not a burden to you, not a shackle to you, but a sharp knife, and a key to open the door to another world." Morbid Bruce answered.

"Only by seeing me, acknowledging me, and using me can you go to a world that ordinary people will never be able to reach, and that world has the most terrible group of people in the world, who are called 'born murderers.'"

As if he had lost all his strength, Bruce leaned back in his chair with some weakness, and then said morbidly:

"Before, the reason why I was able to keep running away and not acknowledging your existence was because I didn't realize the danger of this group of people."

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

"You want to know me."

"I want to know you."

The two Bruces said in unison.

"You're going to accept me."

"I'm going to accept you."

"You're going to love me."

"I want to love you."

"Because ......"

"...... that can deal with criminals"

“…… Only criminals. ”

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

"I don't need to beat them." Sick Bruce replied, he looked into Bruce's eyes and said, "Schiller is not only teaching you, but also teaching me, you have a professor, and I have too." ”

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

"Don't be anyone's son, but be the father of all."

"And when they offered sacrifices to please thee, they said unto them, 'If thou doest well, will thou not be accepted, but if thou doest badly, sin will fall before the door, and it will desire you, but thou shalt subdue it.'" (If you do a good job, why wouldn't your Lord be happy to accept the sacrifice?) If you don't do it well, sin will haunt you, but you will let it bow down) (Genesis 4:7 NIV)'. ”

The light outside the window gradually dimmed, leaving only a brilliant and dreamy neon light, and the voice of the blues gradually sounded in the silence like a whispered prayer.

"Take advantage of your talents."

"Take advantage of my talents."

"Stand high above the clouds."

"Stand high above the clouds."

"Preach to them."

"Preach to them."

"Let them hear."

"Let them pay tribute."

"Love them as a fragile lamb."

"Understand them, reassure them."

"Flog them and admonish them."

"Let them walk on the earth."

"As they walk in my kingdom."

"Become a father."

"Becoming...... Father. ”

When the cold light of the batrang is reflected in Batman's blue eyes, it looks like a bird glimpsing the skyline in a polar storm.

The blade sliced through the frozen atmosphere in the sheriff's office, and with an icy wake, it sliced through the artery in Jonathan Crane's neck.

In an instant, life burst out of the bright red, and then began to pass irretrievably.

Gordon rushed over in shock, hugged Jonathan, who was slowly falling, and he stared at Batman who threw the batrang with wide eyes, and yelled:

"Batman, are you crazy?!!!!"

Jonathan, who was lying on the ground, pushed away Gordon who wanted to help him stop the bleeding with all his might, covered his bloody neck with his hands a little weakly, and said in an intermittent breath.

"Fuck off! …… Let me hear...... What is he talking about......"

Batman's lips moved.

At this moment, outside the window of the Gotham Police Station, a bright lightning bolt struck, and rumbling thunder followed, just like every night when Batman falls from the roof of a building.

Batman's voice was soft, but it drowned out the deafening thunder, and those who he had not been able to speak for countless nights were woven into a cry in this light and light tone.

Jonathan listened intently before he heard the words from Batman's mouth.

“…… The case of the missing person in the Mawson neighborhood. ”

(End of chapter)