Chapter 267: Layers of Fear (Part 1)_1

The night was deep, and Bruce in the bed was getting deeper into his sleep, but even in his dreams, his brow was tightly furrowed.

Suddenly, a small gap opened in his bedroom door, light spilling out from it. The slight creaking of the hinges was bothersome, and Bruce's brow furrowed deeper. His arm moved a bit, and he turned over in bed.

A shadowy darkness spread across his face as if a veil. Bruce seemed to notice something. The moment he opened his eyes, a flash of lightning streaked by the window, revealing a terrifying Joker, brandishing a dagger at the foot of his bed.

The moment the dagger fell, Bruce sat up in bed. His breath was labored, as if his throat had been throttled. Only after quite some time did he let out a shaky breath. He surveyed his empty room, confirming that it was all but a nightmare.

With sweat still lingering on his forehead and back, Bruce wiped his face and slowly sat upright.

He noticed a small crack in the window of his room. Wind blew sizzling through it, causing the lampshade to sway slightly. The shadows in the room were dancing in and out of light. Bruce thought this might be the reason for his nightmare and promptly shut the window.

After the winds in the room subsided, all light and shadows were silent. Bruce moved slowly towards the bathroom, in search of a towel to wipe the sweat off his face.

As he entered the bathroom, he propped his hand on the vanity, silently staring at himself in the mirror. He didn't see any illusion this time, only the pallor of his face. The wound on his shoulder had ruptured and started to bleed.

He gently brushed his shoulder with his other hand. The pain wasn't severe but lingered. It was probably due to his abrupt sitting up, causing the tearing.

Somewhat helplessly, Bruce turned on the faucet, bent down, intending to wash his face.

As he lowered his head, closed his eyes, and cupped the clean water in his hands, he failed to notice the bathroom door slowly opening.

By the time Bruce straightened up and looked at the mirror again, a terrifying shadow stood behind him. Beside him in the mirror was a maniacally laughing Joker raising his dagger and making a slashing motion.

"Ugh!!"

Bruce let out a painful moan and sat up from the bed. He drew in deep breaths and glanced around bewilderedly. He was still lying in bed, the room was still empty, and there was nothing.

The window was tightly shut, with no wind blowing in, no lampshade swaying, no shadow changing, and what's most important, no maniacal Joker.

He sat somewhat rigidly on the bed, with his throat making a trembling sound as he breathed. When he thought of getting out of bed again, he hesitated for a moment before standing up and reached out to feel the edge of the desk.

The sharp sensation transmitted from his fingertips to his brain gave him a sense of safety. Bruce didn't go to the bathroom again this time but walked over to the door of his room, turned the doorknob, and the moment the door opened, a horrifying scene took place.

Outside the door wasn't the hallway of Wayne Manor, but a howling black hole that almost sucked Bruce in an instant. Then, after the nauseating feelings of weightlessness and falling, he sat up in bed again.

Bruce closed his eyes tightly, completely unsure if this place was a dream or not.

Bruce began to ponder. If this was another dream, what should he do to wake up from it?

He took several deep breaths, calming himself down, and started to examine the room. The bedroom was no different from his memory. All things were in their right places. The light left on before he slept gives all the objects a faint halo.

What caused these recurring nightmares of his?

Bruce stood up again and walked to the center of the room. He only paused for a moment before he stepped towards the bathroom once more. He turned on the faucet, bent his head, cupped the water, washed his face, and stood straight. Sure enough, a maniacally laughing Joker raised his dagger at him, and then once again, he woke up from the dream.

Bruce realized now that he was trapped in an infinite dream and he had to find a way to wake up.

As he sat up from the bed, Bruce began to search. Yet, everything in the room was entirely real and didn't seem like things that would appear in dreams. The wood grain on the table was clearly visible, and the scratches on the chair edges were identical to Bruce's memory.

If he lay down to sleep, a maniacal Joker would come to bed with a dagger. If he went to the bathroom to wash his face, another Joker would be behind him with a dagger. If he wanted to open the bedroom door and walk out, he'd be sucked into the endless darkness.

After any of the above situations occurred, Bruce would wake up in bed again and repeat the same nightmare.

Bruce tried many times and triggered more conditions. For example, if he stood in the center of the room, a Joker would appear hanging upside down from the chandelier, jabbing the dagger at him. If he crawled under the desk, a flat Joker imprinted on the wall behind him would appear, stabbing at him. If he opened the wardrobe, a raging Joker would rush out and stab at him.

It seemed no matter where he was or what he was doing, terrifying Jokers were everywhere.

As soon as the Joker stabbed him with a dagger, Bruce would wake up to find himself back in bed again, then wake up in fear again.

The terrifying nightmare kept looping, seemingly endless.

So, in the bedroom of Bruce at Wayne Manor, one Bruce after another began to attempt various actions. Some moved their mattresses, some overturned their table feet, others moved wardrobes. Each time they triggered one condition, Bruce's figure would disappear, but then even more Bruces would appear.

Once Bruce realised that this was a recurring dream, he knew there was no other way but to exhaust all the possibilities, because in a dream, nothing is logical.

After all, in reality, with the security system of Wayne Manor, the dagger-wielding Joker would never have been able to get into his bedroom.

In a normal deduction process, using exhaustive methods and carpet-search approaches would only be adopted when the thought process is trapped or when there are no other new options. However, in this scenario, these two methods have the highest efficiency.

Finally, things began to change when Bruce in the room went to flip the switch on the lamp.

When he flipped off the table lamp, plunging the room into darkness, the horrifying Joker did not appear again.

Whether he went to the washroom to wash his face or lay back in bed to sleep, that menacing, crazed face never showed up again in the now pitch-black bedroom.

But this didn't signify that the endless cycle of nightmares had come to an end.

Bruce was still uncertain about whether he was in a dream. He walked over the window in the darkness, opened it, a chill accompanied by rainwater hit his face. This sensation felt utterly real, but Bruce didn't relax. He now understood what the Joker meant when he said, "Let the game begin."

After attempting all actions that could possibly trigger the Joker, and the Joker not showing up, Bruce realized that "turning off the light" was likely the key to this puzzle.

Next, he walked over to the bedroom door and then opened it.

Outside was the corridor of Wayne Manor.

But Bruce was far from lowering his guard. After experiencing countless rounds of nightmares, he no longer trusted anything that claimed to be "reality."

At this moment, Wayne Manor was completely dark. Bruce walked along the dark corridor until he reached the edge of the stairs. The moment he stepped down, the next step disappeared, and he fell, then woke up from the dream again.

Get up, turn off the light, open the door, walk out, this time, Bruce tried a different direction, thinking to descend through another staircase, only to find that no matter which staircase he took, the moment he raised his foot, all the steps would vanish, and then he would enter another dream.

What was the key to this puzzle? Bruce stood in the dark corridor, contemplating. He didn't feel impatient or uneasy. If anything, he found brief peace in this contemplation.

If he couldn't use the stairs, how was he to get off this floor?

Bruce tried jumping straight down from the edge of the patio. In reality, the height of two floors didn't amount to much for him. But in a dream, the moment he experienced a falling sensation, he woke up. Hence, he found, this method wasn't feasible.

If he couldn't leave the floor, perhaps he should explore the other rooms. But the characteristics of the other rooms were similar to his bedroom—many of Bruce's actions would trigger the lethal Joker. The figure with the deranged smiling face would appear from behind, beside, above, or in front of him at unpredictable moments, brandishing a dagger at him, causing him to wake up.

Room by room, puzzle after puzzle, Bruce's shadow filled the entire third floor of Wayne Manor. Everywhere were traces of his movements, stops, and contemplations.

After an unknown number of awakenings, Bruce didn't continue with the same procedure. Instead, he stayed in his bedroom.

Like many times before, he turned off the light in his bedroom, knelt down, bent over to look under his bed.

The only place on the third floor of Wayne Manor he hadn't inspected—underneath his bed.

But Bruce knew why he had overlooked this place. His hand, resting on the edge of the bed, trembled slightly. He could never forget the terrifying story he had heard as a child.

When you sleep in bed, a figure identical to you is asleep underneath it, and that figure is your shadow.

If children don't behave and go to sleep, the shadow would crawl from under the bed, toss them underneath it, and take their place on the bed.

It would completely replace you, enjoying the care of your parents, playing with your friends, wearing your clothes, playing with your toys. But you could do nothing but hide under the bed and cry, just like a shadow.

Childhood fears etch the deepest memories, but even without that story, staring into the darker underneath of a bed requires tremendous courage in pitch-black darkness.

And there, Bruce found something that wasn't supposed to be in his room—a spinning...globe?

Next to the globe, there was a small note, scrawled in an extremely messy and strange handwriting—

"This is Miss Globus, her dance partner is Jack. Joker Jack wants to remind Batman, good children should turn off the lights when going to bed!"

The moment he finished reading the note, a pale hand wielding a dagger sprung out from under the bed, aiming for Bruce.