Chapter 2536: Cape Battle (57)_2

But Batman didn't care; he kept pounding the Joker until a vagrant pulled him away.

"What are you doing?! Batman!!"

The face that appeared in Batman's hazy vision was Superman's, but he no longer resembled the strong and handsome figure from his memories. Though his frame was still tall, he had become very thin, his cheeks sunken in. Aside from those still bright blue eyes that identified him as Clark Kent, there was nothing left of the powerful Superman.

Bang!

Clark punched Batman, who, somewhat shocked, touched his still intact cheekbone. Clark looked at him with an expression of immense disappointment and said, "Batman, what's happened to you?! Have you lost your mind? We need to hurry and save people!!!"

"I need to save Jason first," Batman said. "This world can't be destroyed, his family and children are here!"

"Do you think killing the Joker will save anyone?!" Clark roared. "Ask about the bomb first!!"

"But he just wants to ruin Jason again, I can't let him succeed." Batman said, firmly gripping the Joker's collar. "He must have come for this, I couldn't stop him before, but this time he won't."

Clark had no choice but to pull Batman away again, his eyes red with tears as he looked at him and said, "What are you even talking about? Do you know how many people are dying because of this?"

"It's just a dream," Batman said. "Dreams always end; they always disappear."

Bang! Another punch, this time Clark knocked Batman to the ground. With tears streaming down his face, he looked at Batman and said, "You're not Batman, you're a madman."

"You're the one who's gone mad! Why take the virtual for reality?! Why should we save people in dreams? We can't ultimately save them because dreams always end."

"Of course, because you're human, Batman!" Clark said incredulously. "When you see your compatriots in distress, you should be unable to suppress your sympathy, and when you see criminals committing crimes, you should be unable to contain your sense of justice. That's the most basic human nature, isn't it?!"

"How can you stand there, coldly and calmly analyzing that this is just a dream, indifferent to those severed limbs, to the blood they shed, their screams of agony, their crying, and their deaths?!"

Batman had nothing to say.

Clark took a few steps back, shook his head, and said, "Maybe they're right, Batman has always been a madman, a natural-born antisocial personality disorder sufferer, with no normal emotional response."

"But I do," Clark said, looking into Batman's eyes. "I'm not like you; I bleed, so I have to go save those who also bleed. Because if I see them cry, I can't stay calm. There's no reason that could convince and soothe me. When their helpless cries reach my ears, that's my undeniable mission."

"Even if you can't save them at all?"

"I only answer to my own conscience, and I thought you understood me."

After saying this, Clark turned and left without looking back. Batman stood in place for a long time, and finally, he threw the Joker aside.

Cries and shouts began to appear in the district where Jason and Peter were located, the place marked by the third bomb was not far from their block, and all those people rushed towards here.

Many people, because they were too scared, brought nothing with them, while some sought to loot, snatching survival supplies from the hands of others, and a few locals set their sights on these fat sheep. The neighboring community was much wealthier than theirs, and a successful robbery would ensure that they wouldn't be too embarrassed when it came their turn to flee.

After hearing a woman's scream, Jason, ultimately unable to restrain himself, dashed out. He shoved aside the thug tearing at the woman's clothes, landed a punch on his cheek, and then kicked him to the ground.

Just after Jason escorted the woman back to his house, he saw two children crying by the roadside. He had to quickly run over to help them look for their mom and dad. Right after he had pushed them back into their parents' arms, a nearby camping car caught fire.

Jason sped towards the scene only to see a familiar figure, Peter burst out from another street not far away; when the two men met, they looked at each other without a word.

"I couldn't help it," Jason said as he grabbed a fire extinguisher and circled the car. "When I heard the screams, my mind went blank, and by the time I came to, I was already in the street."

"Who isn't?"

The one who joined the conversation wasn't Peter but an older uncle, who, wielding another fire extinguisher, furiously sprayed the car and said, "Haven't done firefighter work in over twenty years… Come on, lad, take this ax and smash open the car door."

Jason took the ax and swung full circle to split open the car door, and dragged out the driver who was nearly choked to death inside. Two women quickly ran up and started pouring water on him.

The driver was soon brought to a spot near the campground. His arm was burned, he had scalds on his feet, and more critically, he had inhaled a lot of smoke, leaving him a bit disoriented.

A doctor was treating the injured nearby, with some residents maintaining order.

"Make way! Give some room!! Don't fight over oxygen with the patient!! Here's a new victim, oh my God, you're not the driver of that car, are you? Quick, quick, lie down."

Peter swiftly joined too, assisting others in transporting the injured, while Jason dealt with some hoodlums trying to approach the edge of the camp, all the while staying busy but orderly.

This feeling felt somewhat familiar to Jason, though he couldn't quite place it. He hadn't lied before; the moment he'd heard someone letting out a pained scream outside, he couldn't think rationally but only felt the urge to rush out and help.

Now he realized, it wasn't just him. As the chaos spread faster and faster, many who had been sitting at home upon hearing the bloodcurdling screams came out one after another offering whatever help they could.

They indeed couldn't do much— at best threaten those who tried to take advantage of the chaos with the weapons they had at home, disinfect and bandage the wounded, spray medicine on sprains, and hand out hot coffee to the distraught and insecure.

They weren't thinking about anything, Jason realized. They were acting like worker ants in a colony, simply following their instinct.

The majority of ordinary people cannot remain rational in the face of disaster, but it is this irrationality that often leaves them with no time to assess their abilities and situations, leading many in such circumstances to have their first instinctual reaction be to save others.

It's not about capabilities or responsibilities; it's just about paying the price for certain feelings in the mind, which one may also someday have to pay for.

But by then, even the most insignificant mayflies might also reach an epiphany akin to enlightenment of the Saint's mind, and say, "All I seek in this life is to have a clear conscience."