Chapter 2864: I Have a Date with an Outer God (Part 2)

"Black Pharaoh..."

Shiller uttered the name of this avatar, one of the many faces of the God of Thousand Faces, Nyarlathotep, who had countless avatars each of which had once stirred up turmoil in history or the mystic world. Black Pharaoh was the most common and most unpredictable of them all.

"Welcome, Shiller," his voice made one feel as though drifting on a leaf on the River of Oblivion, about to plunge into the abyss of forgetfulness.

"You can talk?!!" Shiller raised his tone, somewhat shocked.

The other party seemed to have not expected this reaction. Shiller then massaged his temples and said, "Then why the riddle?! We're somewhat colleagues, after all, can't you speak directly???"

"No matter." Black Pharaoh said, "I sought you out to reminisce."

"Alright, then let's discuss what this is all about," Shiller looked anything but nostalgic, he went straight to the point and said, "Why did you initially bewitch Thomas? And why have you set your sights on Little Bruce now?"

"To reminisce with you," replied Black Pharaoh.

Shiller was about to be shocked by the shamelessness of the monster in front of him; he thought carefully about the series of events, reassured himself that he was indeed just an innocent party being asked for help, and not some behind-the-scenes manipulator, before he righteously said, "Does that even make sense???"

"I'd like to invite you for a drink," Black Pharaoh continued autonomously, "but the approach needs consideration; I believe this would be a good choice."

Shiller felt bewildered and could only say, "So you mean you're tormenting Little Bruce just to get me over here??? Then why didn't you just find me directly?"

"You are here now."

Shiller had no words to respond, he simply said, "Well, if that's your way of summoning people, where is Little Bruce now?"

Black Pharaoh slowly turned around, and behind his throne, a cosmos emerged. Shiller saw a gigantic bat appear there, with two heads between its wings.

"You didn't turn him into that Bat Monster, did you?! "

"That is Lengogki," Black Pharaoh responded calmly, "one of my avatars, known to people as 'Father of Bats'."

"You better not be making some sick joke," Shiller rushed up the steps in three strides to reach the Bat Monster, and the moment he saw its eyes, he realized this was not Nyarlathotep, at least not some monster avatar; this creature had humanity.

Suddenly, Shiller had a bad premonition and he tentatively called out, "Thomas Wayne?"

One of the heads turned towards him and nodded, the other head also turned, its gaze even softer and calmer.

Shiller took a sharp breath and said, "You can't possibly be Mr. and Mrs. Wayne???"

He abruptly turned to look at Black Pharaoh, just about to ask why he had transformed Mr. and Mrs. Wayne into this form when he suddenly remembered the name "Lengogki" Black Pharaoh mentioned, realizing it sounded familiar, not like it was made up on the spot.

Shiller recalled all he knew about Nyarlathotep, then remembered that indeed, he had such an avatar, and this avatar was called "Father of Bats," a creation that predated DC comics by many years.

"But just because they are called the Father of Bats, doesn't mean you bring an actual Father of Bats here; that's absurd!"

"At least they are still alive," Black Pharaoh's unhurried tone always ignited frustration, seeming like the type who enjoyed watching others in despair.

"Tell me, how did this happen? Thomas, you aren't the kind to be seduced by evil gods and agree to their terms," Shiller said, looking into one of the bat's heads.

"That's the way it is," Thomas's voice came, "If you ask why I did this, I also want to ask, why are we destined to die?"

Shiller opened his mouth but couldn't provide an answer; he knew, even if he now told Thomas and Martha that all this was the machinations of comic editors, it made no sense because what he was dealing with now were the living souls of Thomas and Martha, not some non-existent comic editors.

You can't tell any living person they must die because some nebulous entity has doomed them to a fated demise; no one can accept such an argument.

Hearing Thomas's question, Shiller finally understood, the Waynes weren't coerced, they voluntarily became servants to another Outer God, all to escape a destiny controlled by the DC Universe.

Then another question arose, why would Nyarlathotep help them?

Shiller involuntarily turned to look at Black Pharaoh.

"I'd like to invite you for a drink."

"I didn't know you were also a parrot," Shiller walked briskly down the stairs, not even giving a glance to Black Pharaoh standing in the middle of the steps, and said, "Send me back first; that universe still has a big mess to clean up."

Black Pharaoh silently stared at him, Shiller could only turn back to look at him, and they eyed each other for a while before Black Pharaoh finally said, "All of this started with you, and all of it will end because of you."

"You're not thinking of pinning this on me, are you? If the Universe administrators come to me over Thomas and Martha not dying, I won't cover for you," Shiller said.

Shiller heard Thomas and Martha whispering to each other; then he asked, "What about Bruce?"

"He's fine," Martha said, "He's already gone back, asked me to thank you for your help."

"What are you planning to do next?" Shiller asked, frowning.

"That's not just up to us," Thomas said, "The Four Families have long discovered a stubborn malady in Gotham that we can't eradicate, and we found traces of the Fan God in an ancient book; we hope that if this city is destined to be controlled, it's at least not by those sneaky underlings."

Everyone was saying it, and Shiller could not understand more clearly. The real cause was not Nyarlathotep's invasion but the inherent darkness of the DC World's origin; it couldn't even be attributed to Barbados but a destiny preordained for this city by its creators.

As long as they still wanted to make money off the character of Batman, Gotham was doomed to misery. That was the unchangeable rule. In this world, some people gamble everything just for the sake of pride, and it seemed Thomas was just such a person.

He was smart; before Little Bruce was even born, he had already sensed the secrets behind everything. He would rather die standing than live kneeling, or rather, since everything was manipulated by an Evil God, he wanted to choose the Evil God himself.

Thus, he summoned Nyarlathotep to counteract the established rules of this world. Little Bruce's use of Nyarlathotep's power to eliminate the influence of Amber Gold was merely following in his father's footsteps.

But Shiller also believed that Little Bruce was initially unaware of all this. His trouble with the Evil God beforehand wasn't an act—only likely, at some point, he too had realized, or else he wouldn't have allowed the corruption in Gotham to worsen to its current state.

Now that they've made such a mess, how are they supposed to solve it? Would Nyarlathotep truly be willing to fight with universe administrators just because of a request from Thomas and Martha?

Shiller mulled over it in his mind, considering perhaps emulating the hotel's approach by using a balance of two powers to stabilize the whole city. But that would likely result in many casualties, something he guessed Little Bruce wouldn't accept either.

Yet if Nyarlathotep's influence was removed, Gotham would revert to its original state. There was no Anatoli to blow up all the dark sources of power, and it wouldn't be long before the city deteriorated again, making the arrangements of the Four Families all for naught.

If Nyarlathotep were to take complete control of the city, Outer Gods were much more horrific than Barbados, and Shiller wasn't sure Little Bruce could handle it. If Gotham turned into a disaster, it would be terrible.

Thinking it over, Shiller couldn't make up his mind and thought that perhaps the only solution was to discuss maintaining the balance with native Gothamites like Batman, Joker, Penguin Man, and others.

Shiller turned, intending to head back, but a tall figure blocked his path. Shiller looked up and, using the last bit of his patience, said, "Move aside, or send me back; I have business to attend to."

It wasn't that he had any prejudice against Nyarlathotep; the key issue was that Outer Gods thrived in chaos. Even if Nyarlathotep wasn't senselessly foolish, he couldn't understand why humans valued order so much; his logic seemed to revolve around never doing actual work.

It didn't matter if he wouldn't do the work; Shiller was busy. For this trip alone, he hadn't stayed in Battleworld to tune his body. All other personality trait bodies had been upgraded, but he was still the old version. He needed to finish this quickly so he could get back and upgrade his body before Battleworld reopened.

The Black Pharaoh stood there in front of him, silent. Shiller didn't dare make any physical contact and could only helplessly look at the towering figure before him.

But he surprisingly saw a look of helplessness on Nyarlathotep's face as well.

Before Shiller could even ask what he was helpless about, the room's walls started to recede infinitely. One by one, statues vanished, and the avatars transformed from Thomas and Martha also disappeared.

The room's walls closed up like a box, and one by one, pieces of furniture fell into place, and in an instant, Shiller was back in room number 1905.

When he came back to his senses, he couldn't help but recall the address Little Bruce had given him—why room 1905? What was special about this room?

Shiller first entered the living room, where all the furniture had been restored, and the traces on the window had vanished. The monster that could create illusions didn't respond, and there was no other hotel across the window anymore. Everything was unbelievably calm.

Suddenly, Shiller felt drawn towards the bedroom.

He gently pushed open the bedroom door, his gaze landing on the nightstand. He strode over and picked up the bottle of cheap promotional red wine he had noticed earlier.

"Wine?"

Shiller softly murmured. So, Nyarlathotep responded to Thomas and Martha's summons and orchestrated this series of events just to lead him into room 1905 to offer him a drink of wine?

Very much like something an Outer God would do.

Suddenly, an idea struck Shiller. He thought, what if, like a normal person, he had arrived at the hotel, dropped off his luggage, taken a bath to relieve the fatigue, and had a sip of wine before falling asleep? Would any of these events have still happened?

Shiller approached the wardrobe, changed into his pajamas, and pulled out a glass from the nightstand drawer. He poured himself a small glass of the red wine, downed it in one go, and plunged into the soft pillows and blankets.

A dreamless night.

Dingling Dingling! Dingling Dingling!

Shiller was suddenly awakened by the alarm clock. Morning light streamed through the curtains into the room. He squinted at the bedside, recognized the familiar look of the alarm clock, and pushed it onto the floor; the ringing stopped.

But then his cellphone rang. Shiller answered without checking the caller ID, and to his surprise, he heard Little Bruce's voice.

"Have you arrived? Jerome has found out about me; I can't handle him alone. I'm sending a car for you right now!"

The call was disconnected, and Shiller put down his phone.

Bang, bang, bang, there was a knock on the door.

Shiller got out of bed belatedly; it had been a long time since he had slept so deeply. He rubbed his eyes and had to strain to lift his eyelids before asking, "Who is it?"

"Your toilet is broken. We had arranged to repair it this morning. Do you have time now?"

Shiller opened the door to find a man in a repairman's outfit, holding a toolbox and heading towards the bathroom.

Just as Shiller was about to close the door, he heard a familiar voice speak to him.

"How is the wine?"

Shiller suddenly looked up, only to see the tall Black manager smiling at him.