Chapter 269: Layers of Fear (Part 3)_1

The monster with Alfred's face was hot on his heels, but Bruce suddenly calmed down. He slowed his pace, leisurely walking into the dark alleyway.

Having mentally prepared himself for whatever might transpire, the situation in the alleyway caught him off guard. Instead of facing his greatest fear, he found two people...drinking?

One was the green-haired Jack, the other was also a green-haired...Professor Shearer???

With a puzzled look, Bruce tried to understand what was happening. At that moment, the green-haired Shiller turned to face him and asked: "Surely you didn't expect to see two corpses and a scattered string of pearl necklaces here, did you?"

"See, this is basic psychology. All the rules leading up to this point have been instilling you with a need to face your fears. Thus, when you see an alleyway identical to where your parents died, you instinctively think that here must be something you are scared to confront..."

"Just like when the first six answers are 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, someone will certainly fill in '7' for the seventh answer, even if the question is what you had for breakfast this morning..."

"I had a waffle this morning, not tasty at all, terribly sweet!" Jack complained. "And it was pricy too, a whopping 50 cents!"

Bruce was utterly bewildered. He was about to speak when Shearer beat him to it: "You must be wondering what's happening. You probably want to ask why we're here and what all this is about."

"Yet that's another common psychological trap. Have you forgotten? You're currently dreaming. Dreams don't require logic. The reason you're questioning this is because we've suddenly started speaking logically. However, in doing so, you've ignored the more peculiar aspects, such as…"

Bruce stared at him. Shearer gave him a smile, asking, "Do you like my new hair color?"

Bruce paused. Indeed, because Shearer was conversing logically, Bruce's thought process had returned to the logical realm. However, the scene was illogical because, in reality, Professor Shearer's hair was not green, and he would never paint Joker's makeup on his face.

More importantly, the ones drinking on the back of an enormous elephant were these two green-haired men. The elephant, squeezed into the narrow alleyway like a cartoon character, had its legs tangled. Yet, it all seemed perfectly normal to an utterly perplexed Bruce.

Bruce heaved a sigh. "What on earth is happening?" he asked.

"Look! He asked as expected!" Jack cheered. He lifted his glass, gulped down his drink, gurgling it in his mouth before swallowing.

"I told you! Even if you explain the concept to him, he's a dull man. That's Batman for you! Even in his dreams, he suspects some kind of conspiracy. That's just how he is, ha ha ha ha!"

"Stop laughing. We have serious business to attend to."

As soon as Shearer finished his sentence, he appeared before Bruce. With a swing of his umbrella, he knocked Bruce out.

A white halo appeared before Bruce's eyes. When he opened them, he realized he was trapped on a surgical table, under the bright lights of an operating room.

Two green-haired individuals, faces painted with Joker's makeup, stood before him in white lab coats, holding scalpels.

Bruce closed his eyes again, then opened them. Green-haired Shearer, brandishing a scalpel, told him: "I know you must be puzzled right now, but don't worry, we can clarify everything before the operation starts."

"Why are you in my dream?" Bruce asked.

"Well, that's a long story..." Shearer began to explain when Jack abruptly shouted: "Because you deserted us in Gotham! You took a vacation! How could you do that?! You broke all our hearts!!"

"Alright, Jack." Green-haired Shearer seemed to be the calmer of the two. However, to Bruce, he presented a much more dangerous aura. Green-haired Shearer stated gravely, "You should be aware that I am a psychologist. Recently, I have been studying—dreams."

"Dreams?"

"Yes, or more accurately, human consciousness. And I've moved past the phase of researching the conscious of ordinary individuals…"

"In the past, I hypothesized that if the summit of the palace of thoughts is reality, then the very bottom, underneath the surface, should be Dreamland, the realm of the Sleep Demon. Just recently, I've confirmed my theory…"

"I assumed everyone's situation to be identical to mine. However, Jack raised an objection, stating that Batman is different from everyone else…"

"Therefore, we made a bet."

Bruce lifted his head and looked at the green-haired Shearer. Jack chuckled, saying, "I bet that deep down in your consciousness, instead of leading to Dreamland, there hides something dangerous…"

"I'm somewhat familiar with that." The green-haired Shearer continued, "However, I believed that such a thing shouldn't appear here, so we devised a method to verify who's right."

"What method?" asked Bruce.

"Since you now know that this is a dream, do you know where you are in reality? Or more specifically, do you remember when you began dreaming?"

Bruce thought for a moment and responded, "I was lying in bed at Wayne Manor, wasn't I?"

"No, your body is not in the bed at Wayne Manor, but under the entrance sign of Gotham City."

"In other words, everything that happened after you entered Gotham, all was a dream."

"The dream that took place after you entered Gotham actually unfolded in your superficial consciousness. This includes Jack flipping your Batmobile with a heavy truck, pressing the button, blowing up the chemical factory, then tying people to the rooftops and letting them fall. All these are part of the first layer dream that occurred in your superficial consciousness."

"In order not to make you suspicious and rapidly awaken, Jack manufactured a series of accidents, making you extremely tired, allowing you to sleep directly upon returning to Wayne Manor."

"And when you fall asleep and dream again, you enter the second layer of the dream. You see a clown standing in front of your bed, brandishing daggers at you; and then successively, the third layer of dream, the fourth layer of dream…."

"Just like that, the number of times you've failed in Wayne Manor equates to the number of layers of dream you've descended into."

"Throughout this process, your consciousness gradually descends from the superficial consciousness down to the deep realm of your consciousness, then keeps digging downwards, until here …"

"Here? Where is here?"

"This is the bottommost depth of your consciousness, I like to call it... 'The Edge'.

"Why did you make me come here?"

"In order to find that dangerous thing that might be lurking in your body." Jack looked into Bruce's eyes, but seemed to be peering into his soul rather than looking at him.

"Jack conjectured that the dangerous and obnoxious thing might be at the very bottom of your deep conscious but again, he wouldn't hide it in plain sight. If there really is his incubation room here, guess where that would be?"

Bruce suddenly understood. He looked at Shearer's scalpel and said, "You think it's in my body?"

"Right, only when you reach the very bottom of your deep consciousness, can we possibly expose it, so now …"

Shearer, the green-haired man, showed a deranged grin. This sent shivers down Bruce's spine because once he thought of the professor and Joker merging into one, he believed there was nothing more terrifying in the world.

However, he didn't struggle. Instead, he pondered for a moment and lay back on the operating table.

This surprised both the Jokers, and Bruce said, "... I now have some understanding of your mental state. Perhaps, in the real world, you might seem very insane, but maybe, within dreams, you are correct …"

"How dull." Jack mumbled, while Shearer didn't seem frustrated. He said, "Were you expecting him to scream and cry, begging us not to proceed? Even if he doesn't understand he wouldn't do that, Batman is always like this, isn't he?"

"Well now, let's see if that thing you mentioned actually exists or not …"

Then, Shearer stabbed Bruce's forehead with the scalpel, slicing open the skin tissue on his face while Jack, like peeling a banana, peeled off Bruce's skin.

The epidermis, dermis, fatty tissue – Shearer was responsible for making the incision while Jack took care of the peeling. Once the skin was removed, they reached the muscular tissue, then the skeletal structure...

The discarded material piled up like an old jacket on the side; both the green-haired horror doctors were covered in blood, with ludicrous smiles still smeared on their faces. Jack let out occasional whimpers, seemingly mourning for Batman who was being disassembled into parts.

The unspeakable waste was casually tossed onto the floor, creating a growing stack. When the final layer of tissues was peeled away, what surfaced inside Bruce was not the internal organs of a normal person, but rather another Bruce.

Shearer sighed and said, "Perhaps you're about to win, because he does seem strange."

"Normal? When do you think Batman was ever normal? If a heart was found inside him once we peel off his skin, I'd be disappointed."

"It seems we would need to do it all over again."

The green-haired Shearer and the green-haired Jack looked at each other. In each other's eyes, they saw no signs of fatigue or irritation but only excitement, like two eerie doctors from horror movies.

At first, they cooperated harmoniously, but soon began to argue. The green-haired Shearer, referring to Jack's lack of medical qualifications, wanted to take over the Bruce in the even-numbered layers while Jack believed they should divide by body parts, that he wanted the head part. Naturally, Shearer didn't agree.

Regardless, the skin was cut open, the epidermal tissues were peeled away, and one after another, a Bruce appeared from within. The discarded materials nearly filled the entire room. Until Jack opened the final layer.

When the last layer of skin was peeled away, a squirming black monster lay underneath. Its body and limbs were thick tubes, ensheathed within layers and layers of Bruce – the only difference was at the head part.

There, it wasn't a face of Bruce, but a grey egg. That egg bore vibrant red lips and a giant laughing face.

The moment the last layer of skin was peeled away, that creature which resembled a cephalopod, shook off all the skin that still remained on it and leaped up.

At this instance, a hand held down its neck. Jack leaned in, revealing the same psychotic grin and said, "Found you, No. 3."