All three of them were stunned, and Jason, leaning against the wall with eyes wide open, said, "What's going on, why is there background music?!"
But there was no time to investigate this issue now; the thing before them was obviously not human, likely just a manifestation of the monster in the fog. Otherwise, it was hard to explain how it shattered the dense ice.
On the other hand, if it could shatter the dense ice from the inside, couldn't it chop them up as easily as slicing vegetables? It would be great if their Shield worked, but if it didn't, the enemy's strength would double by the time they could put up a fight standing still.
The only option seemed to be to run. This creature didn't appear to have any special tracking methods and probably had the same frontal vision as humans. It might not be affected by the fog, but its range was after all, limited. It was best to shake it off and then hide.
"I'll hold him off," Jason said. "Right now, it looks like he's affected by inertia. The pistol can slow down his advance, giving you guys a chance to climb over the back wall..."
Jason had just said this when he became dazed for a moment because he saw more eyes surging in the puddles on the ground. They were of various sizes, squeezing together, constantly splitting and merging, growing bigger and more real.
Jason was horrified and said, "What's going on, we've just gotten here, how could the eyes be so quick..."
"I'm afraid the timer bar isn't independent anymore," Tim said with a serious tone. "It's cumulative now. Before, we just couldn't stay in one place for over three minutes, but now it doesn't matter where we go, our total stationary time can't exceed three minutes."
"What happens if it goes over?" Dick asked.
"I don't know, I hope it's not certain death," Tim took a deep breath and said, "I believe it won't be, but something terrifying will definitely happen."
"How much time do we have now?"
"A minute and a half."
"Get going!"
Tim and Dick knew they couldn't hesitate any longer. They immediately climbed the wall because they had to get up first to pull Jason over. At that moment, Miles had already approached them.
Bang bang bang bang bang! Jason fired five shots in a row. The pistol wasn't just any ordinary gun; it looked much thicker than a regular handgun, and the bullets it fired were laced with the plant toxin provided by Pamela.
It was a potent nerve agent that would paralyze the target's body instantly if it hit, even if the bullets didn't hit a vital spot and were non-lethal.
But the gas only had an effect for less than a second inside Miles's body.
Emptying all the bullets and firing five shots only delayed him for 5 seconds. When Dick, who had climbed to the top of the wall, reached to pull Jason up, the knife had already swung down.
Slish!
The blade cut along Jason's shin. As he was being lifted into the air, the knife slid from three centimeters below his knee all the way to his ankle, creating a long and deep wound in an instant.
"Argh!"
Jason let out a cry of pain, but forcibly suppressed his pain reflex, collaborating with the others to get over the wall.
The three of them landed heavily on the ground, the smell of blood filling the air, but they couldn't stay, as they didn't know whether this so-called killer devil Miles could draw power from them through the wall.
So the two of them promptly lifted Jason and ran towards the exit of the alley at the fastest speed. At the end of the alley, they found a coffee shop with an unlocked door and carried him inside.
Jason was placed on a chair and only then did he have the chance to sharply inhale from the pain. Dick knelt down to check the wound, which was quite deep and bone-deep, but clean, as if made with a surgical scalpel on an operating table.
This greatly facilitated stitching, while Tim pushed aside the slumbering coffee shop owner and began rummaging through his drawers.
This was an old-fashioned coffee shop with a wooden bar, counters laden with pastries and sandwiches, liquor and wine glasses in the back, and lots of miscellaneous items in the drawers. Next to them was a passage that led upstairs to the owner's living quarters.
Entering the bedroom, Tim finally found iodine for disinfection and a sewing kit. Although it was clearly meant for mending clothes, it was better than nothing.
Dick was trying to stop Jason's bleeding. With items in hand, Tim came downstairs, looking worriedly at his watch; they only had 30 seconds left, and no matter how good a doctor was, they couldn't stitch such a long wound in thirty seconds.
"Get ready, something terrifying might happen," Tim said as he prepared the needle and thread. "I think the fog won't kill us outright but will certainly make us fear. That's its purpose."
"I thought things were bad enough already," Dick said, referring to the previous fog as he helped Tim. "I didn't expect there to be so many Serial Killers in the fog. It would be good if Professor Shearer were here."
"Don't think of them as killers; they're just something that looks like killers," Jason shook his head and said. "They don't appear to accomplish some work or to create a series of murders; they just want to kill us, that's all."
"Maybe 'Killer devil' is more appropriate," Dick sighed and said. "It's as if they were born to kill."
Tim had started stitching because they lacked anesthesia, the process was especially difficult. No matter how strong Jason's will was, he couldn't completely immunize himself against his pain reflex, especially since the wound was near the knee. Tim had already been kicked several times.
Jason clenched his teeth and said with a laugh, "This is what I've always wanted to do on the field, you damn jerk."
"You can't call everyone who uses tactics to beat you a jerk," Tim said, distracting him. "We rely on good teamwork, not on lottery-like footwork. I'll be sure to tell them how precise your footwork is."
Jason's deep laughter started, the trembling from his laughter causing him more pain, so he inhaled sharply, but he couldn't stop laughing.
The painful yet pleasurable time quickly passed, and they began to see more and more eyes appearing on the coffee shop's glass windows, the glass tabletops, and even on the faintly reflective floor.
Jason was busy with the pain, Tim with the stitching, and only Dick noticed these anomalies during the intervals when he was helping out, but his attention was quickly consumed by the surging eyes.
He saw a pair of eyes that remained still amidst the constantly changing patterns, like deep black holes, like the only two footprints left on a vast expanse of white snow.
The view wobbled, and Dick shook his head vigorously, but soon the rest of his vision began to darken, leaving only the part with the eyes. It was as if he was wearing a mask with holes only for the eyes.
The view wobbled, the lights flickered, and a half-naked girl appeared in his field of vision... Dick couldn't see anything clearly before he raised the weapon in his hand.
Yes, it was him, himself. He raised the kitchen knife in his hand and chopped viciously at the defenseless girl.
Listening to the screams and feeling the blood spattering on his body, Dick felt a joy that came from deep within, even though the girl was calling his name and looked like his own older sister.
Some long-suppressed desire to kill was finally released, and Dick felt elated, as if he had taken a refreshing bath under the Holy Spring, cleansing both body and soul.
Dick shook his head violently again, but that view persisted, and the sense of satisfaction seeped into every pore. He kept wanting to let out a triumphant laugh.
"No! No! No! Get away! Get away! Stay away from me!!" Dick yelled frantically, and as the scene started to loop again, he pushed away the girl in front of him.
But what he heard was not the girl's cry of pain, but two excruciatingly familiar screams. When he opened his eyes again, Tim lay on the ground, and Jason's leg wound had burst open.
Dick immediately came to his senses and retracted his hands in a panic, saying, "I... I... I didn't kill anyone, I..."
"What happened, Dick?" Jason asked through the pain. "We were just chatting. Tim saw you zoning out, so he tried to call you, and then you pushed him away."
"I saw some illusions," Dick realized then. In his vision, the only bright holes looked like the ones he had just seen on Miles' mask.
"I think I know what's going on with the Killer devil," Dick took a deep breath and said. "Right as the eyes in the fog appeared, I saw the Killer devil's first-person perspective. He killed his own older sister."
Tim showed no sign of complaining. He got back up, as he still had the needle in his hand and was connected by the suture thread. A momentary imbalance caused him to fall, pulling on those threads.
And those threads were deeply embedded in Jason's flesh. With that pull, the threads, not long enough, tore open the flesh that had been neatly stitched up.
Now the wound, which had been as clean as a surgical incision, was completely ruined, and they had to restitch it and cut away the rotten flesh.
Luckily, Tim carried a small knife, and the coffee shop was not without alcohol for disinfection, although Jason was now in so much pain that he was struggling to breathe.
"I'm very sorry," Dick said with great guilt. "I shouldn't have gotten distracted. If I had just focused a bit more..."
"No, I think you were actually taking the hit for us," Tim continued with his tasks and said, "It seems like every three minutes, the eyes will randomly attack one person, causing him to see certain illusions and go mad in reality, endangering the whole team."
"Maybe our best bet is to split up," Jason said.
"No, that might just be what the fog wants. It wants us to divide our forces. There is no guarantee that there are not more monsters in the depths of the fog targeting one person," Tim said with clear awareness. "Once we fall for its trap, our situation becomes helpless."
"I think we must not separate," Dick said while disinfecting the knife. "At least now one of us is injured, and the other two can look after him. If only one of us was left, the consequences are unthinkable."
"We shouldn't have anyone alone, should we?" Jason considered. The Robins were divided according to the universe they came from, so there should be at least two grouping together.
The injured Arkham Knight was being taken care of by Spider Man, and Barbara was with them, leaving Batman as the only concern now, as it seemed both Batmen in this universe might be alone.
The Batman of the Prime Universe had finally treated all of Arkham Batman's wounds. The Recovery Medicine he brought worked well; although the other still didn't have full mobility, at least he could sit up and talk.
"I need to find you a wheelchair," Batman said. "Next we need to go to the portal and see. I must find a way to destroy the portal completely, otherwise this universe will never be safe."
Arkham Batman nodded, not saying much, as he was now more anxious about Jason's condition, but he knew that if more enemies invaded, everyone's situation would only worsen.
"I'll wait here for you," Arkham Batman said and then closed his eyes, planning a short rest to regain his strength.
Batman left the room, but for a moment he felt dazed. Why did the sewer outside the door seem a bit odd?