Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

Chapter 5905: Chapter 4926: No Batman Here (13)

However, Deathstroke’s face does make it easier for teenagers to accept him. After all, when you’re facing an old man with a graying beard, even if he just beat you up, the underlying code of respecting the elderly and loving the young makes it hard to curse him out. Otherwise, you might seem a bit uncultured. But if it’s someone your own age, there are fewer concerns.

"Oh my God." Red Hood, though he didn’t argue with Deathstroke just now, delivered an absolute zinger as soon as he spoke, "Do you know Constantine? If not, I suggest you get to know him."

"How could I not know Constantine?" Deathstroke’s eyelashes were also golden, making his sneer appeared particularly dismissive, like a golden retriever up to no good. "I’m not Batman, who would let him run his mouth. Last time, he accidentally got hung over a shark pool by the Honduras Gang. I shot him in the crotch first, then broke the rope. Ah, what a thrilling hunt that was."

The Robins suddenly felt a chill in their groins. You could say this is a case of evil meeting its match, but this is too extreme. Just thinking that Deathstroke usually hits them hard, but probably holds back for Batman’s sake, gives everyone the creeps.

"Let’s talk about business," Red Robin said, showing great flexibility, trying to dispel the horrifying thoughts in his head, "How are things on your end? Are the monsters tough?"

"It seems you’ve been through a fierce battle," Deathstroke replied, "but unfortunately, the other groups gathering at Gotham Cathedral unanimously agree that you’re probably the weakest group, so they sent us to bring equipment to you."

"How is that possible?" Nightwing was incredulous, "We are all professionally trained superheroes, and well-equipped too."

"Then I must introduce the members of the other groups to you." Deathstroke slowly removed his gloves, "Three of the groups have Shiller. The other group without Shiller includes Poison Ivy and other superpower users, and oh, Professor X is here too."

The Robins exchanged glances, clearly not expecting this trial game to gather so many big shots. Although they are well-trained and well-equipped, they still can’t compare to those superpower users, especially since this scenario doesn’t restrict the use of superpowers.

"I’m not sure if you need my help." A voice came from a corner of the Wayne Manor living room. As they turned, they saw the equally young Charles Xavier. The good news is he wasn’t dark-haired; the bad news is his eyes were too blue.

But more than that, figuring out how he silently entered the manor is clearly more intriguing. The Robins hadn’t started asking questions before Charles’ words sent a chill down their spines.

"Don’t worry, I’m just an illusion to you," Charles said, "After making some harmless edits to your brainwaves, I can appear in front of you this way. I believe this is more conducive for communication."

Damian’s mouth twitched slightly. If you hadn’t revealed the truth, it probably would be more conducive to communication. Now, that’s not certain.

"You are the real tactical experts, and I don’t understand much about this," Charles said, "but I can relay messages between different players, perhaps other groups of players might need your tactical brains. You would want to hear their opinions too, wouldn’t you?"

With the conversation reaching this point, they couldn’t refuse. Despite this Professor X also being a younger version, his whole demeanor exuded strangeness. Compared to him, the younger version of Deathstroke seemed almost charming. A golden retriever is definitely better than an Outer God.

"Thank you, Professor," Nightwing said, "If needed, we will definitely reach out."

"What’s the monster situation on your side?" the agent asked.

"Some winged Bat Monsters using human firearms. But that doesn’t seem to be all," Red Robin explained, "We’ve also seen beings similar to angels and demons, but they didn’t appear in the first wave of attack."

"If that’s the case, each area might have monsters of different races. The weakest came in the first wave of attack, and more powerful monsters will follow in subsequent waves." The agent threw a Faith Core to Nightwing and said, "This can be used to craft mental and magic defense items, but you need a blueprint first. Brainiac, can we send them the blueprint?"

"We can, but only face-to-face," Brainiac said, "The terminal doesn’t have long-distance communication capabilities. You’ll have to use your own methods for remote information exchange."

"I’m sending it to you," the agent said, "He just scanned a statue of Jesus at Gotham Cathedral."

Red Robin’s eyes flickered but still accepted the blueprint sent over. Deathstroke identified his thought and said: "If you know about magic, maybe you can create one yourself. It’s better than relying on Jesus."

After the two of them left, Nightwing glanced at Red Robin. Red Robin also looked up at him but then looked towards another corner of the room.

The others followed his gaze, but there was nothing there. Red Hood shivered, "What are you looking at?"

"Lilith," Red Robin said.

"You brought her here?!"

"She never left." Red Robin shook his head and said, "I need an old and powerful enough being to be my magic advisor. Do you think Batman just has me go to the Lamp Furnace Laboratory for research for no reason?"

"You can really do magic?" Damian asked, "That stuff is dangerous; how would Batman agree to you doing that?"

"We were just exchanging before. I really started researching after the Magic Defense Network was completed." Red Robin walked over to the sofa and sat down, starting to study the Faith Core in his hand, "With the Magic Defense Network, researching magic becomes much easier and safer. Lilith is also a good contract partner, and we get along quite well."

"Magic always comes with a price; what did you pay her?"

"The same thing, having the Magic Defense Network gives these mysterious beings the right to operate on Earth, which is already the best reward." Red Robin looked up, "I have to say, the Supreme Magician who developed this system is truly a genius."

He looked down at the Faith Core again: "Pure defense is simply not enough. No matter how much strength we have, it’s all consumed when surrounded by a large number of monsters. Only by quickly killing living forces can we survive more assaults."

"So you plan to turn this thing into a weapon?" Red Hood crossed his arms and frowned slightly, "Do you have confidence?"

"I have to try," Red Robin said, "but I think my idea is right; lethality is the key."

"So what kind of formation is this?" Shiller looked at Constantine and asked, "How is it different from the original Statue of Jesus?"

"The Statue of Jesus can only be used for defense," Constantine said without looking up, "But you can see, defense is of no use. If we can’t quickly kill monsters, it’s completely about waiting to die, and we can’t rely on others all the time."

"How about this," Shiller said, "I won’t be of much use here waiting, so I’ll go out to explore, do some tasks, and collect some materials. Maybe we can construct more formations."

Constantine glanced at him, seemingly a bit surprised. Shiller sighed a bit and said, "I don’t intend to slack off to the end. Even if I can’t compare with Mr. Agent, I can at least do something."

"I didn’t mean to reprimand you," Constantine was very calm, "The fact that we had so much support earlier is all thanks to you. You’ve done enough; you can rest here for a while."

Constantine wasn’t being sarcastic; his tone was very sincere. Shiller took a light breath, looked up and down at Constantine, then said, "If you don’t want to draw the attention of those psychopaths, don’t rely solely on God. If you keep this up, you might be the next one nailed to the cross. Madmen love Christ the most."

"If you think you can win the game on your own while I’m nailed to the cross, I’ll play the role of Jesus and bless you. I’ll be more responsible than him." Constantine smiled; his smile lacked Kang’s devilish charm but carried an elegant melancholy like a nobleman at a wine party making a joke about the weather while clinking glasses.

Shiller paused again in his action: "I’m going to do tasks now."

The church door closed behind Shiller. The fog outside wasn’t as dense as when loading, barely revealing rooftops around the streets. They were all old houses, uniformly black and gray Gotham-style spires, and there were grotesque gargoyles on the eaves. It was also the sole corner that offered a glimpse into Gotham’s dark ages, as if the mysterious organization that secretly manipulated the city in those years never left.

Shiller had already pinpointed a task—he didn’t plan on fighting monsters. Fortunately, among the several tasks listed, each one had a clear inclination. Moreover, the task introduction thoughtfully marked the probability of triggering battles. Shiller chose the task with the lowest battle trigger probability, only about 20%.

"Secret of Black Tail Alley: The old alley on the east side of Gotham Cathedral always smells strongly of sea air; it’s said it was once a mudflat. After the fishermen settled there, it became the initial place for exchanging catches and selling seafood. Just recently, there’s been an unusual laughter heard there, and the smell of fish is getting stronger. Your task is to investigate there and find the source of the fishy smell."

This definitely must relate to the Elder Gods. Shiller was quite skilled at investigating such matters, but he needed to confirm some details. He asked, "Does the 20% battle trigger probability mean I might randomly encounter monsters, or is it that I would trigger a battle by making wrong choices?"

"The latter," Brainiac said, "Also, every task has special gameplay. You can click for a detailed introduction."

Shiller clicked on the detailed introduction below the task description and found some special gameplay highlighted in colored fonts. Shiller raised his eyebrows and asked Brainiac, "You’re sure it was Nyarla that sponsored you?"

Shiller had this doubt because the special gameplay stated, "All event determinations are based on dice rolls, provided by Brainiac. No beating the organizer because of bad dice luck."

"It’s Nyarlathotep," Brainiac said, "He even complained to me that some humans want to defeat him with dice rolls."

"He doesn’t like dice?"

"Quite the opposite; he loves this way to death. Ever since meeting Anatoli, he can even spend a whole day rolling dice with humans."