Chapter 17 Jason: Why didn't you wait until we were dead...?
Red Hood fired first, but Dick flashed behind the enemy, and Claws met Deathstroke's blade head-on.
Wen Yue wisely withdrew from the fray, leaving the battlefield to others. The player's own combat strength is too weak to be impressive; it's best to just focus on surviving.
"Seriously? You're going to kill him? Calm down, Deathstroke! Get a grip! I'm Bruce Wayne, don't you know how valuable Wayne is? Killing me is a loss for you!" After all, the Penguin couldn't afford to kill Bruce Wayne. Wen Yue tried to reason with him, "Brother, take my advice, matters of life and death should never be mixed with personal feelings. Let's calm down, sit down and talk about the money. How much is the Penguin asking? I'll offer ten times, twenty times, it's not out of the question!" It must be that the money isn't enough!
“It’s pointless. You can’t give me what I want right now.” Deathstroke ignored him.
"Tell me what you want! How am I supposed to know if I can afford it if I don't tell you?" the player argued vehemently.
"I want a red hood!" Deathstroke shouted his demand.
"That won't do, you guys keep fighting." The player shut up.
With a dark expression, the man in the red hood intensified his firepower.
Amidst the fierce battle on the front lines, players huddle in a safe corner and activate their [Work Assistant]—
[Deathstroke: Slade Joseph Wilson]
Win rate: 70%
[Red Hood: Jason Todd]
Win rate: 60%
[Claw: Dick Grayson]
Win rate: 45%
Why is it that Jason and Dick's combined result in less than two? They might as well not have cooperated at all.
Deathstroke made a few gestures on the controller, and another swarm of drones joined the battle, distracting Red Hood and Dick's fighting force. The [Work Assistant] issued a warning: our chances of winning have dropped again.
“I have to admit, Red Hood, you caught me off guard. I thought you didn’t have the guts to fight me.” Deathstroke was completely at ease, even having time to comment on Dick. “Who trained you, kid? You fought well, but this isn’t something that can be solved by brutal violence or numbers… Maybe one day you can amaze me. Keep up the good work.”
Dodging the pincer attack from Red Hood and Claws, Deathstroke suddenly quickened his pace, launching a powerful kick that sent Dick flying like a kite with a broken string, crashing straight into the wall. He turned and knocked Red Hood's twin pistols away, then slammed Red Hood's head against the ground. Jason's red hood shattered, revealing his eyes, cut by flying shards.
Wen Yue's face darkened. She tossed a flashbang and spoke into her earpiece, "Close your eyes!"
A burst of intense light illuminated the corridor as if it were daytime. Wen Yue seized the opportunity to unleash another electromagnetic pulse, paralyzing the drone swarm and all electronic devices, including lights.
Dick clutched his stomach as he got up from the ground, and Deathstroke moved swiftly, drawing his sword and leaping into the air.
"Jason, 10 o'clock, strike." The pulse damaged the headset, and Wen Yue came to Jason's side, giving instructions based on the game map and the prompts from the [Work Assistant].
Jason reacted instantly to the sound, summoning the High Caste Blade from his body. The blade gleamed with a cold light, cleaving Deathstroke's longsword in two. Jason then turned and kicked Deathstroke out of the building.
The battle turned suddenly, the tide turned, and Jason wiped the blood from his face, panting heavily: "It's all over, Deathstroke."
"Quite the opposite, it's only just begun." Deathstroke reached in through the window, tossed aside the broken hilt of his knife, and said calmly, "Small victories give people false hope, courage, and confidence, but don't fall for it." He reached behind his back, pulled out a staff, twisted and pressed, and the retractable ends of the staff automatically extended, allowing him to assume a fighting stance. "It's been a long time since I've truly fought anyone..."
Player stunned: No, again? Are you a cockroach? How can you survive so long?
A whooshing sound swept through the air as Deathstroke deflected the batarang with his staff. However, those familiar with Batman know never to catch a batarang lightly. The super-concentrated explosive inside the small dart suddenly exploded with tremendous force. Deathstroke was blasted back several steps, his ears ringing.
Wen Yue's figure was revealed, the nano-bat armor outlining the silhouette of Batman. She focused her firepower on herself, her voice low and hoarse under the influence of the voice changer: "To defeat you, all I need is to be strong enough."
"Your sneak attack was shameless and vicious," Deathstroke gritted his teeth.
The Fourth Calamity didn't care about any of that. Batman once again raised his hand and flung the disc-shaped object in a pale blue arc as it fell toward the opponent.
Having learned his lesson, Deathstroke nimbly dodged, but the object acted like a magnet, seemingly drawn by an invisible force as it approached his body, and with a "snap," it adhered to his torso.
"Zzzzz—" In an instant, lightning flashed everywhere.
He struck again, but Deathstroke instantly transformed into an electric shocker, convulsing before collapsing to the ground.
A throwable stun gun, a ranged weapon that attaches to a target and releases a powerful electric current. This was originally intended for Mudman by the players, but Mudman was too easily defeated; before Batman could even make a move, Harley Quinn had already beaten him to a pulp.
Batman rarely uses such a powerful stun gun against humans, but Mudface has thick skin and Deathstroke's blood contains healing factors, giving him super-strong healing abilities, so players don't need to worry about him losing his life.
Deathstroke was temporarily incapacitated, so Wen Yue walked around him to Jason's side and helped him up. The High Caste Blade was a magical weapon, and in DC, almost all magic comes at a price. This magical blade was draining its host's life force every time it was used, and Jason was in a bad state.
“Bruce Wayne has been taken to a safe place, don’t worry.” The player played her part perfectly, maintaining a steady performance in front of Deathstroke, and gestured for Jason and Dick to get in the car.
Jason climbed into Batmobile No. 2 and drove off happily with Dick in tow, leaving Batman with a trail of exhaust fumes.
Jason drove off with the new Batmobile again, and Wen Yue watched her car, which she had barely used, disappear into the distance. She could only silently open the back seat of the old Batmobile. Let Jason drive it if he wants; but when will Batmobile No. 3 be released? Players are fickle and want new cars—the pressure shifts to Lucius Fox, who works at Wayne Enterprises.
Batman locks Deathstroke to the back seat. Deathstroke, waking from his brief daze, chuckles and threatens, "Batman, do you know what everyone who's fought me and escaped unscathed has in common?" He whispers in the player's ear, "I killed them all the next time we met..."
A cold glint flashed in the player's eyes. The veins on her hand, gripping the batarang, bulged. After a moment, she tossed the bat symbol aside. A player who didn't act like Batman was the true Fourth Calamity. Without a word, she threw a punch, instantly turning Deathstroke's right eye socket a bruise. But that wasn't all. The player raised her other hand and continued, precisely targeting Deathstroke's face with punches, taking advantage of his current inability to fight back. A few words were enough to provoke him, but the pain and bruises on his face wouldn't heal anytime soon.
The player's tone was calm, but a murderous intent was hidden: "Don't worry, I'm holding back. Life is short, just bear with it... I'll wait for you to kill me."
Deathstroke heals from physical damage far faster than normal, but this ability still has limitations; his right eye socket will remain unchanged for a period of time. Let all the hatred be focused on Batman alone; players eagerly await his revenge.
Send Deathstroke to his special Arkham cell, ignore his furious roars, and the player turns away without hesitation, speeding back to the Batcave.
"What's wrong? Why is the atmosphere so heavy?" Wen Yue noticed the tense atmosphere as soon as she entered. Judging from the awkward atmosphere inside the Batcave, Jason and Dick must have had a conversation, and it was quite intimate. Like two cats who are stubborn but soft-hearted and not very familiar with each other, they approached each other, then quickly separated after being discovered, pretending to be busy as if nothing had happened.
Jason, trying to cover his tracks, was sitting 800 meters away from Dick. When Wen Yue asked him a question, he quickly changed the subject, "Damn it, my Red Hood is ruined like this. I have to modify the new hood properly, stuff bombs inside, and next time anyone dares to ruin my Red Hood, I'll take them down with me!" By the end, he was genuinely upset and starting to sulk.
"No way, Red Hood! Quickly persuade Jason to leave his helmet alone. It's already quite an achievement to cram in an air circulation system, oxygen supply, and other electronic devices into such a small space. Now you're adding explosives, a detonator, and an anti-explosion system, all while maintaining sturdiness and aesthetics. What kind of storage technology could create such a high-tech helmet? It's not like a sack that can hold a lot!"
Wen Yue quickly pulled out the domino mask she had gotten from opening blind boxes and soothed the angry little raccoon, "Here, wear this. If your headgear breaks next time, at least you'll have a mask." The double-layered mask provided a great sense of security.
"As for the new hood, Lucius Fox can upgrade it for you, adding more functions. Things like AI smart assistants, visual maps, and all sorts of high-tech features can be added to keep up with the times..." Lucius brings it wherever needed, and with a wave of his hand, the capitalist's workload increases dramatically.
Wen Yue rubbed her stomach. "I'm so hungry. It's already this late and I haven't had lunch yet. I only ate dynamite and bullets at your Iceberg Restaurant. You're in trouble. Lunch is up to you."
"How about ordering takeout?" Jason suggested.
“It’s not mealtime now. If we order, the restaurant will take a long time to prepare it. It will take at least an hour to deliver it… Let me try your cooking, Jason.” Wen Yue’s face was full of anticipation.
Jason's gaze lingered on Wen Yue and Dick before he nodded slightly and left.
"What's wrong? Are you in a bad mood?" Wen Yue walked over and sat down next to Dick.
“No…” Dick paused for a moment, “I am Claw. The Court of Owls will not let me go. They will come knocking on my door sooner or later, and then you will be dragged down by me. Let me go.”
“They’re not the problem, the important thing is you, Dick.” Wen Yue put her hand on Dick’s shoulder. “What I care about is your true thoughts. I don’t want your excuses, I just want to hear what’s in your heart.” The fact that he had been waiting here all along was an answer in itself.
“I’m just… a little disappointed.” Dick’s head was down, his eyes dim. He was silent for a moment. “I’m too weak, and I’m useless. I can’t help… I can’t do anything except kill—and I can’t even kill well. I can’t help you, and I can’t save anyone…”
"Is it because of what Deathstroke said?" Wen Yue's azure eyes were like a clear and bright sky, with bright light and mist in her eyes. Her gaze towards Dick was full of tenderness like broken gold. "Dick, no one can define your value unless you agree with his standards."
How others perceive you is their problem. Taking on their problem on your own will only cause you pain. Being too concerned about others' opinions leads to a constant search for their approval, and this blind pursuit of approval stifles true freedom.
"Don't care too much about other people's opinions, and don't change yourself based on their evaluations, thereby losing yourself." Don't go to great lengths to prove yourself unless necessary, and don't let the freedom of others hinder your own freedom.
"Others' evaluations, decision-making biases, and the vicissitudes of fortune are like the wind blowing across the water, creating ripples. But the water remains water and its essence is not changed by the wind."
“We don’t live to meet other people’s expectations. They can’t define you. You define the meaning of your life. You are your own free person, Dick.”
Dick hasn't found his way yet. His family has been secretly trained as Claws by the Court of Owls for generations. His grandfather, William Cobb, was the strongest Claw, who only taught him how to kill.
What Dick didn't know was that William Cobb was loyal to the court and was the real mastermind behind the murder of Dick's parents, doing everything he could to make Dick a candidate for Claw.
Wen Yue did not tell Dick this sad truth. His complicated and terrible identity would only plunge him into more confusion and helplessness, and his upbringing would only push him into an abyss of confusion.
Dick now stands at the crossroads of light and shadow, meaning he must make a choice. Fortunately, he has parents who truly love him and gave him the best answer long ago.
"What I hope to give you meaning in life is not the murder techniques the Court of Owls taught you, but something that will bring you genuine joy. Actually, your parents already gave you the answer to that long ago—"
Grayson's past in the circus is not the past, nor is becoming Claw, Robin, or Nightwing the future. In the Sea of Time, there is neither past nor future. Everything is essence, everything is in the present. Dick has the right to choose his own life; he doesn't have to emulate Dick, Robin, or Nightwing in parallel universes. He is not anyone's shadow; he is simply himself, the "Flying Grayson" of the past, and he will only ever be himself.
"Stop living the life you're supposed to live, go live the life you want to live." Wen Yue stood up, smiling as she pulled Dick up. "Want to have a circus competition?"
Let your past self save your present self. What can truly heal you, what can pull you out of the abyss, is never time or any other person, but yourself.
—Because no one else will come, so you come. You will understand your feelings; you will face your difficulties; you will bear the consequences of your choices; you will create your destiny. Paving roads through mountains and building bridges over rivers is not about gritting your teeth and carrying a heavy burden, but a gentle responsibility, a clear-headed affirmation. The only meaning of life lies in the courage to bear its meaninglessness.
Ignore the suspicious glances of others as flickering will-o'-the-wisps, and boldly walk your own path in the night. Arrive with enthusiasm, and leave with satisfaction. Do not despair because of your own powerlessness, nor be afraid because of the uncertainty of the future. As before, bravely become the little bird that never falls in the Gotham night.
A note from the author:
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All things arise from causes and conditions and are empty of inherent existence. The five aggregates are all empty. All phenomena are illusory. Originally there is nothing, so where can dust settle? Thinking too much creates problems; understanding brings answers. As long as we don't harm others or ourselves, we can live however we like, however we want, and however makes us happy.
(*Table reference:)
Shi Tiesheng
*Siddhartha*
*One Hundred Years of Solitude
*Self-Salvation
*The Courage to Be Disliked
*“Hell is other people” is a quote from Jean-Paul Sartre. Existentialism is anthropocentric; “hell is other people” because everyone is free. Similarly, because everyone is free, the freedom of others hinders one's own freedom, hence the saying “hell is other people.”
Camus
Russell
**This is unrelated to the main text.**
To describe Nietzsche using a line from "The Genius on the Left, the Madman on the Right": "People pointed at me and called me a madman, those harsh voices echoed in my ears, but only I knew that this was not madness, but that I was breaking free from my shackles."
Nietzsche said, "I am the sun because I only want to give, not to receive, therefore I have infinite energy." In the end, he went mad.
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