A group of people walked downstream along the riverbank.
"How does it feel to work at the Church, sir?" Primary Universe Batman asked Shiller, walking side by side as if making casual conversation.
"Nothing special," Shiller answered. "Most of the work is repetitive and boring, rarely anything that can be called fun, but solving problems for the believers does give a sense of achievement."
"I suppose so," said Primary Universe Batman. "People always expect God to solve all their problems instead of preparing extra firewood before the winter comes. But what if everyone were good at planning ahead—would God be happy or sad?"
"There's already an answer to that question," Shiller stretched out a hand, gently waved it, and said, "When people fail, they pray for God's mercy; God encourages them to regain their faith. When people succeed, they thank God for his blessing, and God feels satisfied."
"Is God always so forgiving?"
"I think so," Shiller smiled and nodded. "The Lord listens and embraces all, I've always believed that."
"What about you, Mr. Hunter?" Shiller looked at Primary Universe Batman and asked. "Life in the wild must be interesting, right? Have you encountered any dangers?"
"Of course, plenty. Last year, while I was hiking in the Mongolian Grassland, the temperature there dropped suddenly, and I hadn't prepared a shelter in time. The temperature dropped to levels unsuitable for human survival…"
Primary Universe Batman shared some of his survival experiences in the wilderness, some thrilling, some amusing, making him seem like a veteran survival expert.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Bruce was chatting with Greed, saying, "It's hard to imagine you leaving the bustling city to come to such a remote place to find inspiration. Did you fly here?"
"This small town doesn't have an airport," Greed shook his head and said, "I first flew to the nearest airport, then took a suburban bus, and finally hitchhiked to reach the nearest town. But you, a psychiatrist, what are you doing here?"
"I told you I'm on an internship," Bruce shook his head and said, "Do you think I really wanted to come here? I'm from a big city too. If it weren't for a special case here, I wouldn't have come to this godforsaken place!"
"That's really unfortunate," Greed sighed. "I was planning to take some photos and leave, but I got tangled up in a strange incident."
"Have you encountered strange incidents before?" asked Bruce.
Greed shook his head, and Bruce laughed and said, "That seems like a yes. How was it? Exciting?"
Greed rolled his eyes and said, "You think life-threatening situations are exciting? You're really crazy."
"I'm just curious," Bruce put his arm around Greed's shoulder and said, "Tell me about it."
After speaking, he looked back at Shiller and Primary Universe Batman walking behind them, snorted through his nose, and said, "Or would you rather discuss God with those old stubborn folks?"
Greed also glanced back at the two behind them, while behind them, Joker and Pale Knight were murmuring about something.
"Fine, but I'm telling you, don't spread it around," Greed sighed and said, "It was at the graduation dance—you know, there are always a few poor souls at dances without dance partners, alone and solitary."
"You're not like that," said Bruce. "There must have been many girls wanting to dance with you, just like they always come to me."
"That's not what I'm talking about, don't interrupt me," Greed continued. "There was this guy, we all called him Fatty, and in the middle of the dance, he suddenly started throwing up."
"Was there something wrong with the food?"
"True and untrue, no one poisoned the food."
"Was it his stomach issues then?"
"If he had stomach problems, how could he be so fat?"
"Stop beating around the bush, just tell me what happened."
"He particularly liked eggs, and there were boiled eggs at the banquet that day. He picked one up, peeled it, and guess what?"
"Was there a chick inside?"
"It would have been better if it were, but inside was a white flesh worm!" Greed made a disgusted face and said, "That worm suddenly jumped out of the egg, burrowed into his mouth, swallowed his tongue whole, and then burrowed into his stomach, making him vomit uncontrollably."
"That sounds like a bizarre incident, but it doesn't sound too impressive." Bruce frowned and said, "If it were me, I would have killed the worm on the spot."
"It's not that simple, this was just the beginning." Shiller said, "At the time, everyone thought like you, assuming it was just a trick for the guy to grab attention. The ball ended just like that, and no one really took it to heart."
"And then?"
"Then things suddenly got out of control, and everyone started vomiting uncontrollably. At first, they vomited food, then stomach acid, and later they started vomiting organs—can you imagine? Someone vomited up their entire liver!"
Bruce made a disgusted face and said, "Is there a monster at play?"
"It seems so, Church experts suspect that white flesh worm was to blame, but by the time they found the fatty's corpse, the worm had disappeared, and no one knew where it went."
"Is the worm the monster?"
"Of course not, the monster is intangible, but creatures possessed by the monster can mutate. Maybe the monster possessed a small worm, burrowed into the egg, developed completely, and then moved into the fatty's body."
"But how did it make so many people vomit?"
"Monsters have various abilities, like the one we encountered today that can release Wind Blade," Greed shrugged and said, "Maybe that monster's ability is making people vomit."
Bruce's gaze flickered, and he grabbed Greed, walking briskly forward a few steps, then said, "That's a well-crafted story, so how did you escape disaster?"
"Because I never went to the prom." Greed said nonchalantly, "I heard all this from others."
"So you call that a personal experience?"
"I said I didn't experience it, you insisted I did, so I could only tell you a story I've heard."
"Let me guess what the real truth is." Bruce said, "Someone actually played a prank on the fatty at the prom using a prop, you didn't like it, so you killed everyone else."
"You've been watching too many movies," Greed said, "Not to mention why I would avenge someone I've never met, how could I possibly kill everyone?"
"Of course, you could do it," Bruce said, "The Psychoanalysis Method tells me that you're harboring a big secret, a secret related to the strange."
"Who doesn't have secrets?" Greed said, "Don't you have any? Prying into others' secrets is impolite, and you should always bear that in mind."
"Otherwise, what? You'd kill me and make me spit out my liver too?"
"What do you want?" Greed paused before asking.
"Tell me what's really going on with you."
"Or else you'll tell others I have secrets? What evidence do you have? Do you really think that could threaten me?"
"We can make a deal. If you tell me your secrets, I can share with you the results I've seen through Psychoanalysis Method. You'd probably want to know more about our teammates, right?"
"You mean they all have secrets?"
"Like you said, everyone has secrets."
Greed showed a pensive look and said, "I don't think their secrets are more important than mine, unless yours are added too."
"It may be hard to believe, but I actually have no secrets."
"Really? Graduated from a prestigious university, yet you haven't passed your internship and were oddly assigned to a case involving anomalies, forcing you to come here."
At this point, Bruce and Greed had drifted farther away from the others, so he stopped walking, looking at Bruce in the dim light.
"Everyone who comes here has secrets, we both know this. If you want my secrets, show some sincerity. Don't forget, anyone here could be the Wandering, why should I tell my secrets to a monster?"
"So, you mean to say, if the price is right, you too would sell your secrets to a monster." Bruce always excelled at listening, he said, "That proves you're a madman."
"Is that an official psychiatrist's diagnosis?" Greed and Bruce moved forward again, he folded his arms, gazing at Bruce.
"It could be or it couldn't, depending on whether or not you want to cooperate."
"If I don't cooperate, then I'm a madman?"
"That's exactly what psychiatrists do."
Greed chuckled and said, "You would make a qualified doctor."
"Let's hear it then." Bruce said, "You don't have to tell me everything, but I want to know some of the causes and effects."
"For example?"
"What's the deal with the ball you just mentioned?"
"Just a trivial matter." Greed laughed and said, "I told you the truth, I definitely didn't deceive you."
"Then maybe the vomiting student and the white worms at the graduation ball aren't related." Bruce logically deduced, "Which was your doing? Or both? Why did you do it?"
"Perhaps, because a Ghost stole my dance partner?"
"You don't have to be so eager to paint yourself as an antisocial element." Bruce looked at him and said, "I have a basic professional psychiatrist's judgment."
Greed kept staring into his blue eyes as if he was looking through them, and after a long while, he spoke, "Indeed, the monster possessed a worm that burrowed into a cooked egg and entered Fatty's body. The worm laid many eggs, each one a monster, which entered other people's bodies, causing them to vomit their organs."
"So, I ask and you answer, how about that?" Bruce seemed to lose his patience and said.
"Alright, what do you want to ask?"
"Was that your graduation ball?"
"No."
"Then why did you go to that graduation ball?"
"There was something there that interested me."
"Monsters?"
"Yes."
"Did you bring the monster to the ball, or did you take it from there?"
"Both."
"Can you control the monster?"
"No, I can't."
"So you have some ways to restrict the monster?"
"Every monster has its limits."
"You exploited these limits?"
"Yes."
"Used the monster to kill?"
"Absolutely not."
"Were you prepared?"
"No preparation."
"Had certain impulses?"
"Neither impulses."
"Ever entertained the thought for a moment?"
"No!"