"It's getting more and more confusing. Why can't I understand it?" Constantine rubbed his temples and stared at the picture on the screen and said: "The Supreme Mage Ancient One got a copy of it from somewhere and it looks like it is
It was a very wrong book, and I deliberately left it in my study for Helen to get."
"Not long after Helen got it, some students started to go crazy and hit people, and almost injured Harley. Okay, it's a bit far, but you understand what I mean."
"Then a strange line of text appeared on the wall of the corridor on the third floor of the school, mentioning the successor of the secret room and the successor's enemies...
"What's the connection between these clues? I wonder if there's one of the world's greatest detectives in this room who can help us figure it out?"
Regardless of Constantine's witty words, everyone also looked at Bruce. Most people only saw very messy clues in the frequently switching shots, but were unable to connect them.
"The heirs and the enemies of the heirs." Bruce spoke first, using a very normal tone as if he didn't put any effort into reasoning: "This means that this series of events may be divided into two parties, or in other words, write this sentence
The speaker thinks that there are two parties, one is the successor and the other is the enemy of the successor. Why is it so divided?"
"What did they inherit?" Zatanna asked. She looked at Strange sitting on the sofa and said, "It can't be the position of Supreme Mage, right?"
"Sounds logical." Pamela nodded and said, "The successor who appears in a magic academy will of course inherit the supreme position in the magic world."
"But I'm sorry, miss, I have no intention of abdicating for the time being. I believe all students know this."
"Then it's probably the throne of Asgard."
"I'm afraid Thor is also in his prime."
"Stop playing riddles, Detective." Constantine stared at Bruce and said, "Tell us something we don't know, and try your special trick of 'Shocking the House' again."
"Jennifer Marvel." Bruce spit out a name.
Schiller, who was leaning on the corner of the sofa with half-closed eyes and looking a little drunk, slightly raised his eyelids and glanced at Bruce. No matter how many times, Batman's amazing detective talent is revealed to the tip of the iceberg, it still makes people feel...
surprise.
"What happened to her?" Constantine asked.
"Have you ever seen her in any of the student group shots?"
Bruce's words made both Constantine and Zatanna feel a chill down their backs, and his rich imagination made Miss Magician shudder, and then said: "You don't want to say she is a ghost or something, do you?"
"She is obviously not a normal student." Bruce said: "After you realize that she is not normal, look back at the scenes of her in your memories. Do you feel that there is something extra?"
"What's more..." Constantine suddenly froze in place. The fear that had not appeared on his face for many years made his facial features look a little distorted. He said: "There are tentacles behind her back!"
Then he looked at the others as if seeking a lifeline and said, "What does Jennifer Mavey look like to you? Is she a normal little girl?"
Pamela frowned deeply, and then described her feelings objectively: "Before Bruce said that this little girl was abnormal, I had no doubts about her appearance, speech and movements, but when I started to doubt her
, I realized that from the first moment I saw her, I saw tentacles behind her, but I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it at all.”
"If I had realized it, I would have definitely asked!" Zatanna raised her voice, as if trying to hide her fear. She said, "How could I show such obvious monster characteristics without asking? How could I?
Do you think this is normal? I obviously saw it from the beginning."
"That's the problem. I realized something was wrong with her earlier than you did, and then the same thing happened." Bruce gently touched his mandible with his fingers and said, "Our knowledge of her appeared.
The problem, apparently, is the same for these kids."
"Based on my understanding of myself in another universe, if he really realized that the tentacles behind Jennifer were abnormal, then he would definitely ask and take measures, but he didn't, which means that he was also deceived.
"
"Common sense revision?"
"Maybe it only works for her."
"Who could have done it? Ancient One?"
Bruce remained silent and did not answer. In Schiller's slightly squinted eyes, there was a cloud of mist in the center of those gray eyes. If you zoom in, something full of vitality and weird enough, like something hovering in the Himalayas.
Storms linger over the mountains all year round.
The snow was getting heavier and heavier, and Harley moved her eyes away from the gray vortex on the first page of the "Necronomicon". When the storm dissipated in front of her eyes, what was revealed was the long-dried crimson ink, which was exactly
The words that appear on the wall of the teaching building.
Hallie wrote, "You are right, that kind of madness has begun to spread in the school. The school competition has given just the right wind to the madness, but you still haven't answered me about the source of the madness."
"Equivalent exchange." The mist formed a line of words.
"What do you want?" Harley paused and added below, "I wrote as you said. They all thought that I was just the victim in a pitiful attack and should be honest.
I slept in the infirmary, so no one noticed anything was wrong."
"Helen was suspicious of me. She might have thought I had read the book, but I turned my attention to herself. My movements were fast enough, so she probably hasn't reacted yet."
"Amazing criminal talent." Another line of words appeared in the fog.
"Tell me what you want, and then give me the answer." Harley's handwriting became darker, and the girl seemed to feel angry. She said: "I think you can understand me, you must be able, Mr. Monster...you are the best
Very capable.”
"I can." The gray mist replied, and the curly font appeared extremely slowly, as if after careful consideration, another line of words appeared, "You must not accept a kind of low-level madness spreading in the environment in which you live, just
It’s like your whole body is soaked in sewage.”
"That's how I feel. It's terrible." Harley took a deep breath and began to write a long paragraph.
"They can't understand where human madness comes from, but they mess with their brains and then call it madness. This is a bad, uncreative imitation, and the smell is disgusting. They must be deeply understood.
Lessons.
Every Gothamite understands that madness has already eroded our hearts, but it is not the manipulation of gods. Madness is the weapon of our own choice, in order to create a miracle of struggling to survive in the darkest place in the world.
Those genius inspirations and philosophical thoughts about human nature and tragedy that madness brings to us are the most beautiful art that can interpret madness.
Instead of pouring energy into other people's brains, making them unable to think, turning them into zombies without intelligence who only attack others. His understanding of madness is completely wrong, and it makes me suffocate. I will correct it at all costs.
You have to help me for this kind of mistake."
"I'll help you."
Everyone who saw this conversation through the screen was silent. Pamela, who had been silent before, spoke first.
"I don't mean to defend Gotham, but I fully understand why Ms. Quinzel calls it imitation - or more radical - plagiarism."
"How on earth can you understand?!" Constantine was going crazy. He shouted loudly: "Are you wrong? It's okay for you to be crazy. You actually think that it is a sin for others to be crazy and not authentic enough.
?!"
"It's not other people, but some kind of mysterious existence." Pamela immediately pointed out. She didn't give in at all and said firmly: "Only humans can decide how crazy humans are. Gotham people are the benchmark in this world, not just follow them casually.
A monster can come out from nowhere and point fingers at us, saying that their things are the deepest form of madness."
"What's so fussy about this?" Zatanna couldn't bear it anymore. She took a deep breath and said, covering her forehead on the sofa.
"Of course it's best not to be crazy."
Pamela's words became sharper, and she began to use a language style that was exactly the same as Harley's when she was angry, and people usually called this the gibberish of a Gotham madman.
"But if madness is a foregone conclusion, it must be divided into high and low levels. A mysterious existence that can make people crazy. If he hides in his own dark cave and whispers, no one will care about him, but he insists.
If we come here to compete, then there is nothing incomprehensible about us representing the deepest crazy challenges of mankind, right?"
"I don't know how your brains work..." Strange shook his head and said, "What does this have to do with who is crazier? Isn't this just a very simple case of a demon controlling humans to attack others?
?”
"It's not that simple." Bruce also stood on the chessboard and began to deal with the chess piece in front of him. He shook his head and said: "If he promises to benefit the attacker, promise to give him a powerful weapon as long as he kills as many people as he wants.
power, then we will never care."
"But it drives her crazy."
The two dark chess pieces exchanged positions. Pamela looked at Strange and said: "The madness has no characteristics, and more importantly, there is no reason related to human nature. It's like picking someone out of the universe at random."
Every race can be so crazy, so how can humans show the art they have learned from madness? That is part of our civilization!"
"Who will save me?!" Constantine stretched out his hands to pray to heaven in an exaggerated manner and said: "Schiller! Schiller! Say something! Your two students started talking nonsense again.
Got it!"
Schiller slowly opened his eyes as if he had just woken up.
And when those gray eyes scanned the people present with a desolate look, the quarrels strangely stopped.
"I heard someone mention art."
The sick voice is always slower and heavier, like the ashes sinking to the bottom of an incense altar.
Constantine swallowed and leaned back desperately, trying to get further away, but Bruce came over and sat next to him, and then began to recount the scene that had just appeared on the screen and their dispute.
After listening, Ill nodded slowly and spoke in a tone full of emotion.
"If I were to judge him, the charge would be 'typical'."
"Heretics are worse than pagans"
This chapter has been completed!