Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics-Chapter 5537 - 4563: Blackest Night (52)

Shiller’s thoughts drifted back to Noel’s Spirit Domain. Standing outside the door, he could clearly see the chaotic and tumultuous thoughts and notions gradually losing their color. It wasn’t because Noel had given up thinking, but because she was approaching death.

But amidst the gradually graying colors, one color became particularly rich. It was a bright and clear blue, like glaciers, like the sea. It was the color of Bruce’s eyes.

In the final moments of her life, Noel finally realized what Bruce’s gaze on her truly represented. He wanted to save her. He was the person who most wanted to save her in her short and painful life. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

But he was about to fail. In life’s final moments, people often burst forth with wisdom far beyond their years. Noel realized she was about to die. No matter what Bruce wanted to do, no matter how much he wanted to save her, he would never succeed.

Her brief appearance in his life didn’t leave him with any good impression, only bringing him defeat. After the storm, there was no clearing of skies, no family movie’s happy ending, it remained a complete tragedy.

Following this ocean-like thread, looking at Bruce Wayne’s entire life, tragedies surged like tides, disasters enough to destroy an ordinary person’s whole life were merely regular tides in his life. She shouldn’t have made herself one of them, but she was truly too tired.

If death was destined to come, then at least she wanted this person who tried to save her to know that he had done enough. Death is not the end; it is merely the beginning of another story.

Unfortunately, even the small wish at the end of life did not come true. She didn’t get to wait for Bruce Wayne, nor did she manage to express her gratitude. Death came too early and too easily.

After hearing this story, the room fell into silence. Victor and Shiller sat on opposite sides of the desk, the scene resembling a transition in a black-and-white silent film. In the soundless silence, emotions become more powerful.

"That’s the people of Gotham." Victor said, "I increasingly agree with what Jenna said. In the dark times, Gothamites always understand and help each other."

"Because their disasters did not come from each other." Shiller lowered his eyelids, "The closer you are to death, the more you can see the truth of the world. Even a child like Noel, in the final moments of life, could glimpse the hidden truth of this City of Darkness. She understood that Bruce was just a slightly better-off victim than she was."

Victor picked up his notebook and began revising. Originally, he did want to follow Bruce’s advice to show Shiller Noel’s helplessness. But he realized it was unnecessary.

In reality, no one prompted this child. She just relied on her thinking, and the wisdom that burst forth before her death, to understand everything and made the choice like most Gothamites—to stand together and confront the world’s darkness.

And Hugo was an exception. One could even say he was a traitor because he resolutely chose to be a shameless perpetrator in this disaster-laden city. Instead of standing with Gothamites against the darkness, he pointed the knife at his compatriots and was complacent about it.

Not talking about justice or empathy, even just wisdom, he was not even as wise as a child. Losing humanity, losing much; losing animal nature, losing everything. The most primitive animal nature is seeking advantage and avoiding harm. If going it alone were enough, the human race wouldn’t team up. Facing overwhelming external forces, those who choose to betray the group will ultimately be devoured by disaster.

Victor found a stream of inspiration and quickly wrote the second half of the final confrontation—defeating Hugo wasn’t Shiller, but Noel who Hugo never took seriously, only seen as a tool and weapon.

"The city’s rain always comes at just the right time. I stood behind the glass wall of the cliffside restaurant, seeing two figures standing at the cliff’s edge. I shouted towards that side, but whether it was Rodriguez or his old rival Hugo, they seemed isolated into another world by the dense rain curtain. That world had only the two of them, only debates about righteousness. As for what they actually said at that time, it was later when I stuffed the soaking wet Rodriguez into the police car that he revealed bits and pieces to me.

"’God never loves mankind’—’I regretted standing there getting drenched in the rain with him as soon as I heard this cliché comment,’ this was Rodriguez’s later evaluation. And I shouldn’t have chimed in ’It is indeed quite foolish,’ because it made him add three-quarters of an ounce more sugar into my hot tea—Hugo proudly: ’And His creations would never love each other, surrounded only by desire and hate.’

’Only you would think so, because you’re just an unknown criminal.’ Rodriguez was always good at poking people. I knew the bullet in this gun had to be ’unknown’. Whether in the crime world or academia, Hugo couldn’t be considered famous. He even had to borrow the name of ’Moriarty’ to make Mr. Detective look at him twice.

While they were still debating, Rodriguez’s gaze glimpsed a shadowy figure on the path towards the cliff edge. According to his own description, he had never expected it to be reinforcements. However, what happened next transpired in a flash, unexpected by anyone, even including me.

A small figure rushed up while Hugo was still prattling on. When he heard the footsteps behind him and instinctively turned around, the skinny girl charged at him like a strong little calf, threw her arms around his waist, using all her strength to push forward. They both fell off the cliff—One Hand caught her!

Standing behind the glass wall, I screamed, ignoring Hugo’s warning, rushing towards the cliff edge. Rodriguez really caught Noel who was about to fall off the cliff, leaving only Hugo to fall. Thank God! We won!"

Shiller’s eyes fell on the last line, sighed somewhat helplessly and said, "Such a cliché plot."

"But it’s a grand reunion!" Victor stood up, spread his hands towards him and said, "Do you know how many people would come after me if Noel and Hugo both fell together?!"

Shiller chuckled lightly, then said, "Falling won’t kill Hugo Strange, you know that."

"I didn’t originally intend to write him off. After all, besides me, they’re likely to focus on the story of the Sun going out; no one will help me speak the truth. If it’s written too absurdly, it might be hard to realize."

Victor sat down again and then said, "Don’t think I’m just making stuff up. I’ve thought through it rigorously. Certainly, Noel doesn’t hate Bruce, and her hatred for you doesn’t affect you at all. But if her obsession with revival is to say ’thank you’ to Bruce, she’ll definitely go look for him.

"Do you think if she knew you were Bruce’s teacher, what would she think? If she’s the evil genius of Gotham City, she’d definitely want to kill you. If not, she’d probably question her choices, wonder whether Bruce is like you in her memories..."

Victor gestured a bit, then continued, "So we change Hugo’s brainwashing content to make her hate Bruce. That way she can break free on her own, unrelated to you, and there won’t be any follow-up issues."

"It’s not impossible. But without killing Hugo, he won’t rest." Shiller took a sip of hot tea.

"Don’t rush, we’re not finished yet," Victor said, "Although we need to write a prequel to the Sun going out, there’s no harm in tweaking it within the prequel. Perhaps we can have a fall kill Hugo Strange?"

"How do you plan to do that?"

Seven days before the Sun goes out.

"Today’s class is about the definition of cognitive perception. To distinguish it from sensory perception, we first need to understand cognition. Some people think cognition is the human brain’s view on certain things. This view isn’t incorrect, but it’s not comprehensive..."

In the classroom, only the faint sound of chalk on the board and the rustle of students taking notes could be heard. Shiller paced on the podium, and students’ eyes constantly followed him. Most listened attentively, nodding from time to time.

As the class drew to a close, Shiller took a sip of water. Jenna, sitting in the first row, looked around, receiving encouraging glances from her classmates. So, she cleared her throat and raised her hand, saying, "Professor."

Shiller put down his cup and looked at her. Everyone around pushed her, and soft laughter bubbled up. Jenna stood up and said, "Um, Professor, can the activity room be open all day?"

"What’s the matter, Miss? Isn’t 12 hours a day enough for you to practice dancing?"

"My dance partner is a graduate student," Jenna said bashfully, "He has an internship outside campus; he really has no time during the day..."

"That’s his problem. Do you remember what I said?"

"Don’t wear yourself out, find causes in others—" The students chattered overlappingly.

"No, it’s really important," Jenna said, "You should have heard about the Brude Haven collective hysteria incident, right? He’s one of the agents sent there to investigate, working in Brude Haven during the day, and can only return at night. But returning so late, the classrooms are closed, really no time..."

Shiller paused, looked Jenna up and down, then asked, "When did you start dating Barry?"

The classroom erupted into noise, everyone shouted as if they’d gone mad like a bunch of crazed frogs. Jenna’s face turned impossibly red, and she shouted angrily, "I am not dating him, we’re just dancing together!!!"

"I would advise Mr. Allen to search for his causes more," Shiller said with a smile, "But keeping the activity room open all day is out of the question. Otherwise, you’d spin in there until dawn and sleep during class. It wouldn’t matter at the start of the semester, but the knowledge this unit covers is crucial; if you don’t listen, get ready to fail."

"Ah!!!" cries of despair erupted from below. Jenna roared and sat down.

Shiller knocked on the podium several times until they quieted down. He said, "Okay, since Miss Jenna brought up the Brude Haven collective hysteria incident, you can write your views from the cognitive perception angle. As long as I can pick out five decent essays, I’ll extend the activity room hours by three."

"Oh!!!" The students cheered again, shaking those good at writing essays wildly.

Then everyone gathered around Jenna, because she’d just said her dance partner was involved in the case, so there must be some inside information that’s excellent writing material.