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Batman's arm began to tremble as layer upon layer of phantoms appeared before his eyes, the blue lights forming a chilling blizzard in front of him. Just then, a soft "click" sounded in his ears, hitting Batman's heart like a heavy blow.

The door to the monitoring room opened. Batman stood there, his body rigid, and the muscles in his legs were tensed. His limbs wanted to turn him around, but another voice in his head told him not to.

Because a sense of foreboding loomed in his mind; he knew this was all Joker's meticulously planned conspiracy. If he stepped out of that door now, he would fall right into his trap. For some reason, this time, Batman didn't have the certainty of victory, as he saw another Joker on the monitor, wearing Schiller's face.

Batman recalled the dark days when he first started, and the most memorable place during that time was not the alleys of Gotham filled with criminals but Schiller's office. Had Joker become Schiller, or had Schiller become Joker?

Batman didn't know, but he hoped it was the former. He hoped this was just a trick orchestrated by that Joker and not Schiller truly turning into Joker. Because if it were the latter, he couldn't imagine what kind of torment he would face after leaving that door.

Taking a deep breath, Batman eventually turned around and strode out of the room. Before leaving, he glanced at the Bat Doll lying on the ground.

In the banquet hall, the once gorgeously adorned tables and chairs were now scattered around, elegant tablecloths dragged on the floor, and silver candlesticks shattered from the impact. Other than the faint light filtering through the blizzard, there was no other source of illumination. Clark lay amidst the wreckage, surrounded by broken debris, blood flowing from his forehead, passing through his eyebrows and eyes, dripping straight onto the ground.

At this moment, JokerSchiller walked over, crouching down to look at Clark's face, and said, "Do you know? The person who wanted to nail Jesus to the cross was called Judas. People wrote a book to record Judas's infamous deeds, and they regarded the reasons in that book as the Bible. But even today, when people face a kind, benevolent, just, and tolerant divine figure, everyone becomes Judas. Clark, do you know why?" Unlike the other Joker, who had a sharp voice, this one had a low and even gentle tone. However, his words ruthlessly shattered Clark's last shred of faith, making him unable to seek solace even through prayer.

"People only call for the arrival of a god when they need one. When they don't need one, they nail the god to the cross, just like Jesus, and just like you." "No matter how perfect you are, they will find reasons to kill you. When they no longer need a god, your perfection becomes your evidence of guilt."...

Clark closed his eyes in pain, his Adam's apple moving up and down, as if continuously swallowing saliva. Even the muscles on the side of his neck trembled incessantly, as if trying to avoid Schiller's voice, but the devil's whisper was relentless. "No..." Clark wanted to deny, his voice hoarse as he said, "I don't save anyone expecting gratitude. I simply want to help people..."

"Even if the people you save actually want to kill you?" Clark's jaw trembled, and JokerSchiller tilted his head, looking into Clark's eyes and asked with great curiosity, "What are you thinking as you seriously consider this question?"

Clark closed his eyes again, his eyelashes quivering, his lips tightly pressed together, as if unwilling to speak that answer.

"Do you find yourself not as great as you thought?" "When I asked that question just now, did you realize that you can't fully forgive them?" "You're not great enough to sacrifice your life to save a group of people who want to kill you." "Why do you feel guilty about this idea?" JokerSchiller stared at Clark's face, his tone inquisitive, "Do you really see yourself as a god?" "Is this idea truly born from your kindness and justice, or is it merely because playing the role of a savior from up high brings you joy?" Clark's chest heaved faster, emotions brewing within him, but JokerSchiller continued, "When they want to kill you, what do you feel most at that moment? Betrayed and saddened, or... do you feel like laughing at the predictably foolishness of these beings weaker than you?"

"That's enough." Another cold voice sounded, and a figure emerged into the banquet hall. He still carried the lingering cold from the blizzard outside. From the long-silent hall came yet another voice, drawing many onlookers out of their rooms. Someone shouted loudly, "Hey, that strange Joker! Why aren't you taking action yet?!"

"Do it already, kill him! Otherwise, he'll lift this house again, and we'll be crushed to death!" "Yeah, what if that monster goes berserk? You're neglecting our safety by not taking responsibility. Why don't you kill him quickly?!"

Due to the previous impact, everyone had some injuries to varying degrees. Most of these upper-class individuals were not born into poverty but had been raised to cherish their status, and the pain made their emotions more extreme. They all screamed, urging Joker to kill Clark quickly.

"Can you feel it?" Jack smiled at Batman and said, "They're in fear, and now they're terrified, but not because of you." "They're afraid of this guy named Clark Kent. Can you guess why? Because he's hurt them. They feel pain and dread the even greater pain that may come next."

"Batman, maybe you didn't realize that one day, the person who could bring the greatest fear to everyone wouldn't be you."...

"If you want to reclaim that title, it's simple. They fear something more than pain, and you know better than I do." Jack opened his arms again, spinning to the center of the courtyard, looking up at the crowd, pointing at them with his finger, saying to Batman, "They're just a bunch of ungrateful scoundrels. Even if you kill them, you'd just be administering justice!"

"Think about it!" Joker let out a series of laughs. "In this performance, the actors followed the script and defeated the terrifying monster. But in the end, they were killed by the audience rushing onto the stage. How amusing."

Batman didn't look at Joker Jack but turned his head to Joker Schiller. He said with great certainty, "This is in the dream, isn't it?"

"Why do you think that way?" Joker Schiller didn't turn around, still focused on Clark, seemingly curious about his reaction. But suddenly, Batman became nervous because Schiller's tone felt very familiar, just like every time he was in Schiller's office and was questioned by him.

"The timeline doesn't match, and there are even more bizarre details. Most importantly, you're not Joker..."

"Why do you think I'm not?"

"Schiller, the professor, is not Joker." Joker Schiller finally stood up from in front of Clark and approached Batman, looking at him, "If this were a dream, what would you do? Do you think you can escape?"

"What you don't know is that ever since that last dream inception, I've gained control over the power within me." Batman narrowed his eyes, referring to the surge of darkness that erupted from his dreams.

"That should be enough to break this dream." As he finished speaking, the ground began to tremble slightly. Soon, the trembling intensified, and the entire mayor's mansion started to shake. Everyone turned their heads to look outside the window, toward the source of the booming sound. On the horizon, a black line suddenly appeared and swiftly approached.

It was an endless black tide, like a ravenous giant mouth ready to devour everything. The tallest wave already surpassed the pinnacle of the mayor's mansion, making the once majestic Manor seem as tiny as a grain of sand on the beach. At the moment when the tide crashed down, the window glass shattered, and the black water impacted like an artillery shell, directly hitting the two people farthest from the courtyard.

They didn't even have a chance to scream. Hit by the massive water cannon, they turned into a shower of flesh and blood, and their bodies and blood splattered all over the place, colliding with the balcony's railing and falling into the banquet hall. For a moment, the black tide stagnated, and Batman's expression froze.

Because everything was too real. Blood splattered on Batman's mask, and the strong smell of blood filled his nose. Between the shattered limbs, he could even see intricate muscle patterns, and everything was vividly visible, including the fat, internal organs, and brain matter. Suddenly, an intense burst of laughter erupted in the banquet hall, and Joker Schiller almost bent over from laughing so hard.

... Soon, he slowly straightened his body and looked at Batman, saying, "Did you forget? I'm a psychology professor."

"Why didn't you consider that this might be a trap I set?" "Intentionally doing the wrong things at the wrong time, adding various bizarre details, arranging illogical plotlines to make you think it's all in the dream..."

"But what if I told you it's not a dream?" Batman's hands began to tremble, the strong smell of blood surrounding him, and the terrified screams of the people who witnessed their companions' deaths erupted, filled with wailing and crying, everything felt so real.

"... Impossible." Batman held onto his last thread of sanity, but his voice began to tremble, "I don't have this kind of power in reality."

"Is that so? Then what happened during the battle that erupted over Living Hell that day?" But at that moment, Joker Schiller suddenly said, "Your speculation is correct. This indeed is a dream."

This answer was like the closing announcement of this performance, but some comedies were just beginning after the curtain fell.

Joker Schiller's fluctuating tone echoed in the banquet hall, "Batman, you consider yourself a champion of justice, walking the streets of Gotham, seeing yourself as a god of Gotham."

"But when you're fighting crime, when you use your advanced equipment to beat the criminals until they scream in pain, when you hear them wailing..."

"What motivates your actions? Do they truly come from your kindness and justice, or is it because playing the role of an all-powerful destroyer brings you pleasure?" Joker Schiller wiped the blood from his face with his hand.

Unlike the other Joker, he didn't always wear a mocking smile; he seemed more like a philosopher. "Answer me, Batman."

"Just a moment ago, when I told you that this might not be a dream..."

"Look at them..." Joker Schiller reached out, pointing at the broken limbs on the ground. "Look at this group of weak, vile creatures, these Judases who are ungrateful and put their benefactors on the gallows..."

"Look at them, witnessing all of this, the evildoers who disappoint you with their humanity..."

"Look at them, when they receive the punishment they deserve because of your great divine power..."

"When you realize that the price they have to pay is not just waking up from a nightmare but actually being killed by you, dismembered, crushed into pieces, dying in excruciating pain..."

"Do you have a moment when you want to laugh?"

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