Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

The city, dull and lifeless, was perpetually soaked by a drizzling rain, with the air so damp it felt like being submerged in the abyss. Shiller stood at the hotel room's window, looking down as the torchlights grew brighter. Squad after squad of sect members whooshed through the streets, their shouts of killing growing louder and more urgent.

Shiller simply stood at the window, quietly observing. As he took in the scenery, Batman was watching him. At this moment, Shiller exuded an obvious aura of violence—silent, cold, and filled with a sense of superiority over societal rules, as if embodying all the qualities of every violent enforcer of the law.

"I told you, he's a formidable opponent," the voice of the late-night snack echoed in the dim room, "Even though they are both law enforcers, he is nothing like Batman. Most Batmen stand for justice, using violence to uphold rules and order, making him the Dark Knight. But Shiller isn't; he's a perfect, thoughtless blade—cold, focused, and merciless."

"Trying to hinder him like tying down Batman with notions of justice and kindness will be utterly ineffective. I'd advise you to change your approach quickly, or when he comes here, I won't be concerned about you."

"An agent focused solely on completing the mission?" the ethereal voice sounded, "Perhaps we can observe a bit more; if that's the case, there might naturally be other ways to keep him here."

"I am just curious, with that fool left with nothing but a head, how can he change the current situation? Is he going to start bawling?" the Laughing Bat said with fingers interlocked under his chin, "It seems our good agent has absolutely no intention of listening to him."

"Paul and I are not enemies. On the contrary, for a long time, I was his teacher. I guided him in many things, but he didn't bring a better life to Gothamites with these capabilities; instead, he utterly destroyed this city."

"After he imprisoned me, he often came to see me. He showed me his masterpieces, believing I would find beauty in his violent acts. He hoped I would approve of him, but all I felt was boundless despair..."

Batman's raspy voice echoed within the hotel's room. Shiller still quietly stood by the window, observing the movement on the street below. Batman spoke for a long time, but Shiller never responded. So he finally said, "Hey, are you listening?"

"I'm not interested in your romantic history," Shiller turned his head and said, "I see what those samurais are searching for here; I guess it's that Lady Siwa looking for me. But now he's not the most pressing issue, I have to find that boy."

Batman's lips tightened. But Shiller suddenly picked up the head attached to the spine, looking around to check his condition, then picked away two pieces of wood from the surface of a somewhat worn-out wardrobe to gauge against his nasal bone.

"I first need to fix your nose to prevent secondary injuries causing a bloody choke, hindering your speech. If I find that boy named Tone, help me persuade him, and I'll get him out of the city."

"Tone? Who's that?"

"The leader of the rebel army. He should be captured by the sect. I'll rescue him first and then you persuade him to leave here."

"Why do this?"

"Because I think he might also be Batman."

"How could he possibly..."

"It's not because of your surname that you are Batman, but because you did what Batman does, that's why you are Batman. As of now, Tone seems to be the most Batman-like among them. I have to ensure his safety."

After saying this, Shiller fixed Batman's nasal bone with the wooden pieces, using strips torn from a bedsheet as a simple bandage, grabbed his spine to pick up the head, and said, "Earlier I saw a tube delivering nutrient liquid into your body, now there's no more nutrient liquid—how long can you survive?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"Yes. You help me persuade that boy, and I'll try to find some nutrient liquid. If you don't speak, I'll assume you agree."

"But he's not Batman," Batman said, "and if he's the leader of the rebel army, he won't leave this city easily, or he would have left at the start of the chaos."

"Of course, otherwise, I wouldn't need you to help persuade him."

Batman was speechless and could only stay silent. Shiller, holding a gun in one hand and the head in the other, walked out of the hotel gate, looked around, and chose a direction to walk quickly toward.

Just as he turned the corner, he saw a group of sect members in red cloaks gathered in a corner, seemingly doing something. Through gaps in their shadows, a woman could faintly be seen, dressed somewhat ragged but still with a strong frame. She seemed injured, hence sitting paralyzed on the ground, and the sect members appeared to be discussing how to deal with her.

Shiller peeked from behind the corner wall to look over. On the woman's arm, he saw a tattoo—the same as the two dead bodies in sect uniforms he had seen in the cathedral. "Rebel army tattoos? Those two unlucky bastards must have tried to disguise as sect members to infiltrate in but got discovered."

Shiller did not move in that direction. He turned back to the previous street, identified the direction, and walked toward another intersection.

"They seem to want to do something to her, do you not intend to help her?" Batman spoke up.

"Everyone is the primary responsibility for their safety. It's she herself, not me, who let her fall into that situation, and I have no obligation to save her," Shiller said as he walked, "Especially since this city has been in turmoil for 15 years, and she's out wandering during the sect's search. If she dies, it's not a tragic event worth mourning, but just another example of survival of the fittest. If I save her, humans will have to pay the price for my interference with the natural evolution sooner or later."

"But she is also a victim. It was the Death Angel who turned this city into this state; she shouldn't have encountered these things,"

"You're right, the Death Angel's brutal rule is the culprit. But stopping and punishing him is not my responsibility. You should find the police and the Dark Knight, or ordinary people who see this as their home. I'm not any of those; I'm just an ordinary passerby."

"But humans should have the most basic sympathy; how can you stand by and watch others get harmed?"

"I can't, so I choose to leave."

Batman fell silent again. Shiller listened to the screams of women coming from the street behind him, continuing on his path, searching for his target. Until he found a fresh corpse at the corner of this street.

He turned the body over, and upon seeing it was a middle-aged man, he breathed a sigh of relief, then examined his wounds. He found that the man's throat had been slashed, an injury characteristic of the Finger Tiger used by the sect, and there were Rebel army tattoos on his arm.

Shiller looked around and saw a very narrow alley to his left, only wide enough for one person to pass through, and an adult couldn't stretch their arms fully inside. After he walked over and took a glance, he discovered it was a dead-end alley. Shiller looked up.

About one person's height above him, he saw some dirt marks that shouldn't be on the walls. These marks appeared roughly every half meter, leading up to the rooftop.

Shiller left the alley, turned left, and entered the house on the left. It seemed to be a regular residential building. Once reaching the rooftop, he found the rooftop door was locked, but it only took him two hits to break it open.

He walked to the rooftop, to the location of that narrow alley, and on the edge of the rooftop, he saw some bloodstains, which appeared quite fresh and roughly matched the time that boy escaped.

Shiller stepped back a few paces, sprinted, and leapt to the building opposite, finding the same bloodstains there. The rooftop door on this side was open, as if someone had walked through.

"He climbed up by pushing against the walls on both sides and then got in here?" Batman said.

Shiller looked down at him and said, "Your ten-odd years in prison weren't spent in vain."

"What?"

"God always gives the dumbest punishments to fools."

Shiller walked to the doorway and glanced inside but did not enter. He stood back up, looked around on the rooftop, then leapt back to the building on the left and entered through the door he had broken open on the rooftop.

He stepped as lightly as possible and headed down the stairs. The building had only three floors; Shiller entered the third-floor corridor. He crouched his body, gripped his gun tightly, and moved slowly forward while lightly feeling the ground with his fingers.

Eventually, he found a damp spot at a doorway. He turned to face the door, took a step back, and pressed his body completely against the wall, ensuring there were no gaps between his waist and the wall behind him. Shiller lifted one leg, bent it, and then straightened it. The distance from the wall to the door prevented him from fully extending his leg.

He adjusted his back's position against the wall once more, then supported himself with one foot on the ground, using the other to forcefully kick the middle of the door.

"Bang!!!"

The door was kicked open. Shiller swiftly dashed inside, aimed at the figure by the window, then lowered his gun.

"Bang!"

"Ugh..." a cry of pain echoed.

When the opponent clutched their leg and fell to the ground, Shiller put away his gun and looked over. With the aid of very faint natural light, he could see it was a young man in a jacket.

"Hello, I'm Shiller," Shiller introduced himself, "Don't worry, I'm not a sect member. I'm here to rescue you."

The young man instinctively glanced at the gunshot wound on his calf. Shiller noticed his right arm had been bandaged, with the coagulated blood on the sleeve indicating he was previously injured there.

"I can't explain too much to you. You can understand it as a need for mission secrecy. In any case, I need you to leave this city now. Do you know which city nearby is safe?"

The young man visibly hesitated: "Why should I leave?"

"Because I need to ensure your safety."

The young man looked at his leg wound again.

"Your life," Shiller added, "You need to stay alive, not die from the sect's pursuit or some bizarre accident."

"I can't leave," the young man said. "I am the leader of the Rebel army; I need to save this city. I cannot abandon the people before that."

Shiller was not surprised at all. He merely placed Batman's head in front of the young man. Upon seeing Batman's head with the spine attached, the young man let out a terrifying scream and scrambled to retreat to the corner of the room.

Observing his reaction, Shiller lightly lifted his eyelids. He was sure Tone's response was not normal.