As the thick fog rolled in, the entire city seemed to be submerged in a sea of mist, with only the towering buildings peaking out from the foggy sea. For Shiller and his companions standing on the rooftop of the hospital, it was as if they were sailors lost in the vast ocean of fog.
As the fog skimmed past them, it was as if they were masking their faces with it. The obstructed fog floated backward, dressing them in a foggy cloak, armoring them with the rain.
Shiller looked down. He saw two doctors screaming and rushing out of the hospital doors followed by patients gone mad. An ambulance sped in from a nearby intersection.
The driver jumped out of the vehicle just before the out of control ambulance crashed directly into a lamppost nearby. Blood seeped through the crevices of the ambulance door. With a bang, the door was flung open, and a crazed doctor leaped out, taking two steps at a time to catch up with the driver, wielding both hands to strangle the driver's neck.
A brilliant ray of light raced down from the roof, with a fireball hitting the enraged doctor, sending him flying.
But the assaulted driver was now left with a few bloody marks on his neck. Before long, his body temperature began to rise, and in the chilly rainy night, his body was wrapped in a billow of steam.
Shockingly, the doctor who had been struck down was still not dead. Ignoring the burn on his back, he staggered to his feet. Brand on the rooftop squinted and said, ".....they're quite formidable. This curse has enhanced their defense and also enables them to feel no pain, like a patient in a hyper-excited state with muscle inhibition lifted."
"Immediately shut down the ventilation system in the Phase One and Phase Two renovation blocks. Use the in-building circulation system until I ascertain whether the issue is with the air or rainwater. Nobody is allowed to leave!" Bruce ordered over the communicator.
Turning back, Shiller said, "Someone has deployed massive-scale curse warfare against Gotham. We can't pinpoint whether the curse is transmitted through wounds or rainwater, or both."
"I have a way to eliminate the curse, but..." Shiller lifted his umbrella, "the umbrella needs to touch the cursed sufferer to absorb the curse from their body. It can only absorb curses, not heal. If the host of the curse is severely injured and is surviving only because of the power of the curse, he will die the moment I remove the curse from him."
Bruce squinted, "What's the principle behind this? How exactly do you remove the curse?"
"A more potent curse." Without responding further, Shiller held the umbrella shaft, swung it toward Bruce, who dodged by stepping to the side, and Shiller simply tapped him lightly on his shoulder with the umbrella handle.
At the point of contact, Bruce sensed a kind of emotion. He found the umbrella in Shiller's hand seemed to be alive.
"Regrettably," Shiller continued, "I can't possibly use the umbrella to touch every person in Gotham; and even if I could remove the existing curse from their bodies, they could still be infected again unless the source of the curse is identified."
"I will find the root causes of this curse." Bruce held up the communicator, then looked at Shiller and said, "But Gotham must be defended. If the curse is permitted to propagate, the city will be cast into huge chaos."
"Do you remember what I told you?" Shiller studied Bruce's eyes, "A person who's been walking in the snow night for a long time, on seeing a campfire in the distance, would certainly exert his last bit of energy to rush toward it."
"And if anyone wants to extinguish this glimmer of fire..." Shiller shook his head. Bruce couldn't be sure if he saw any hesitation or retreat in his face, but he heard Shiller saying in an unfamiliar tone, "...They will show you what true madness is."
Shiller looked up at the brooding sky, commenting, "Those who've done all this will never understand. Those who were bred from this crazed land are never afraid of any mad curse."
"What Batman needs to do is not to save here, but to save those who want to meddle with the affairs of Gotham, those who want to fly off the cliff." Shiller turned to Brand before withdrawing his gaze, "Go on, Savior. These people, already drowned in the abyss, are all destined to be here. Rather than worry about us, you should worry more about those reckless outsiders."
Having said that, Shiller opened his umbrella and walked into the fog. His figure disappeared at the end of the street as a burst of firelight flashed where Brand was standing before he, too, disappeared. Bruce stared at the chaotic scene on the streets, furrowing his brows.
Right now, Batman can't set off alone to trace the hidden enemy because he doesn't yet have enough friends who can help guard here when a crisis comes.
At lease that's what Bruce believed. He found himself unable to find even one reliable teammate among the people he knew, except for the mentally disturbed Shiller, the reprehensible Constantine, the madman Joker; there was almost no one else.
But what surprised him most was that his first response to such a situation was to look for teammates instead of rushing to the Batcave at full speed, attempting to take on all work alone.
Soon, a helicopter landed on the hospital roof. The airflow generated by the spinning rotor temporarily dispersed the dense fog, and holding tightly to the helicopter ladder, Bruce was whisked higher and higher up. He saw chaos spreading rapidly.
More and more people ran out of their houses. The monsters—already gone mad—continued to chase after them. Screams echoed louder from more and more alleyways. The world hidden beneath the sea of fog gradually seemed to become more chaotic and crazier.
Bruce knew he had to quickly find the hidden enemy. No matter who had launched such a curse at Gotham, they must pay for it.
After leaving the hospital, Shiller went straight back to the manor. When Merkel greeted him, Shiller smelled the strong scent of blood on him. Turning his head to Merkel, he asked, "What have you been up to?"
"Cleaning the garden, Sir. The awnings and water pipes are all sorted." Merkel smiled as he took Shiller's coat from him. Shiller glanced at the shotgun lying at the entrance to the garden path and said, "Also, about our garden makeover plan, we've found suitable fertilizers, haven't we?"
"Indeed, it's just a bit crazy." Merkel hung up the coat on a rack and chuckled. Shiller, however, frowned and said, "You're not even sure if they've spoiled, and you just bury them in the garden. Aren't you afraid that those plants who've gotten a stomach bug might jump up and beat you up?"
As he spoke, he picked up an umbrella and walked into the back garden. Merkel was a little confused, he said, "This is not the first time some reckless thieves have tried to steal from our manor. Except this time they seemed bolder... they even dared to charge at me..."
"That's because they weren't thieves at all." Shiller, standing under the eaves and looking at the garden, a whiff of blood mixed with the moist smell of the rain entered his nostrils. Merkel seemed to realize something was wrong too. He asked, "What happened, Sir? Should I not have buried them in the garden?"
"For now, it's unclear." Shiller shook his head, "But you must take responsibility for your own decisions. I am off to Gotham University in a bit. Should the plants jump up and slap you, you better hope that old gun comes in handy."
Finishing his words, he turned around and walked back into the house. Merkel, somewhat anxious, followed him and asked, "Really? Plants can actually jump up and hit people? How's that possible?"
"I'm surprised, after all this time in Gotham, you could still have such doubts." Shiller put on his coat again, then said, "If you can't handle it, call Alfred. Unless you're not afraid of his opinion on your stewardry skills."
With that, he strode out the door, leaving Merkel alone at the front gate looking around, puzzled. But soon, Merkel heard a faint rustling sound from the backyard.
Merkel sighed, returned to the reception room, crossed the corridor, picked up the still-warm shotgun, and headed to the garden wall.
From atop the scaffold, Merkel noticed a few people trying to climb over the wall and into the yard. In fact, one of them was about to succeed. So, when Merkel blew his head off with the gun, he fell directly into the yard.
Setting down the gun, Merkel walked expressionlessly to the body, grabbed the hem of the man's clothes, and dragged the body to the back of the oak tree.
With one shovel, blood oozed out. Digging further revealed some old bones, but Merkel didn't care. He dug a shallow pit with the gardening spade and tossed the body in.
The garden of the Rodrix Manor had a low wall, beyond which was a small alley of the manor district. The wall, rather than serving as a protective structure, served more like bait, especially after the manor acquired a steward who was proficient in gardening.
Merkel returned to the tool room, took out a pack of powder, and scattered it over the body. He then struck a match and threw it on it. Instantly, the fire blazed. In the damp air, the flame seemed somewhat faint.
Burning a body was a lengthy process. Merkel climbed back onto the scaffold. With shotgun in hand, he looked at the chaotic situation outside the wall with a creased brow, sensing something was not right.
At that moment, he felt his scaffold shake. Merkel quickly bent over to stabilize his balance, then descended two levels, placed his hand on the top step, and looked down—but saw no one.
The eaves of the adjacent tool room showed no signs of shaking either, ruling out an earthquake. Confused, Merkel thought he might be having illusions. He got off the scaffold and walked over to deal with the remnants of the previous burn.
However, he had hardly taken two steps when he fell face-first "bang" into the garden dirt. Standing up, Merkel mumbled a curse, turned around to see what tripped him—it was a vine.
"Plants really can hit people?" Merkel amusingly said. He shook his head to rid any unrealistic thoughts from his mind, walked over to the burnt remains, picked up the gardening spade, and started turning over the soil.
Similar to the previous instances, the skeletal remains just disappeared into the soil without a trace. However, while Merkel was turning the soil, he suddenly felt something move in the shrubbery across from him.
Merkel stepped forward to have a look, and immediately felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He let out a yelp, turned to look behind him, but saw nothing.
Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound. Merkel promptly looked at the ground near his feet. He saw the vines on the ground twisting and extending towards him.
From the depths of the thick fog, the winding vines stood stark between the grass and the earth. The sound of the vines rubbing along the ground seemed more terrifying, like claws stretching out from hell.
Unfortunately for them, the steward of the manor, the one who was in charge, was not afraid of phantoms or demons in the slightest.