Chapter 999: Battle for the High Tower (Thirty-Three) (Patreon)

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"The capital you possess creates a class distinction between you and those people you pity, granting you greater power than them. You wish to utilize this power to shoulder responsibility and create a happier life for them."

"However, the truth is, the happiness of the people is neither created by capitalists nor does it need capitalists to create it."

"Capitalists create nothing; they merely exploit and suck blood at every step during the process of people creating a happy life."

"You may believe that you wield such great power without abusing it, instead striving to benefit the people. But in reality, the power you obtain is built upon the exploitation of the people."

"That's why there are no benevolent capitalists in this world. The wealth they use to display benevolence is all extracted from the veins of the proletariat, including yours, Batman."

"The vast wealth you possess, the advanced scientific and technological equipment, all the investments you make to save the people, actually come from the people themselves."

Schiller walked up to Batman, facing him with his gray and blue eyes meeting like waves crashing against a high dam.

Schiller looked at Batman and said, "Initially, I told you to invest all your wealth to save humanity, to help them achieve ultimate happiness."

"You made this difficult decision and thus felt immensely great, highly dedicated."

"But in reality, you are not great, nor is it dedication. The things you sacrifice were originally what the people deserved."

"Just like now, you lead the Demons to take over the mines, overthrow General Putrescent's rule, and become the new owner of the mine. Consequently, you gain greater power, but this shouldn't belong solely to you; it should belong to every Demon who has labored and shed blood in this process."

Schiller tilted his head slightly, staring into Batman's eyes. "Your eye contact tells me you're not convinced."

"You're thinking, without you, they would never awaken. You're thinking, you've shed blood and fought on the battlefield, even achieving more than them."

"Indeed, you acted as a guide, and naturally, you should have your rewards. But are these rewards so extensive that they require claiming the labor of everyone else?"

Schiller leaned in a little, looking into Batman's blue eyes. "I imagine various negative emotions are flooding your mind with my conclusion."

"So, tell me, Batman, do these negative emotions stem from your greed for capital or your arrogance towards the people?"

"Let me go!" Batman growled low, his lips curling in a rare display, revealing his teeth, like a defensive beast. He repeated, "Let me go! Joker! Or you're dead!"

Schiller stepped back, wearing an incredibly rotten smile. "Do you see it? Do you feel it?"

Veins bulged on Batman's forehead, his arm muscles swelled, even tearing the loops of the iron chain loose. But the next moment, he suddenly froze in place.

He kept panting, as if exerting great effort, then finally calmed down, somewhat dazed. "Why?"

"What do you want to ask?" Schiller asked, very patiently.

But Batman remained silent, hanging on the pillar like the oldest and most stubborn piece of bacon in the corner of a butcher shop.

"I think you've found the answer," Schiller's tone suddenly softened, like a true teacher. "You should understand why we are unwilling to discuss this topic with you."

"It's not because your current identity is that of a capitalist, but because, from start to finish, you have been unwilling to become a proletariat."

"You fear this identity," Schiller commented. "Perhaps not because of greed for capital or arrogance towards the people, but still because of the psychological trauma that once made you fearful of 'being powerless.'"

"You don't want to face the deaths of your parents, Death, yet you are powerless. The tragedy repeats itself, and you don't want to feel powerless again."

"You believe the proletariat is powerless, lacking knowledge, wealth, weapons, everything. The more you understand the cruelty of reality, the more you feel they cannot resist... you fear this situation."

Batman lowered his head, remaining silent, while Schiller continued, "Feelings of powerlessness often stem from a lack or weakening of internal drive, and the growth of internal drive requires a sense of security."

Schiller sighed and said, "I really don't want to say this; it sounds so much like an old-fashioned cliche from the last century, but it truly fits your situation."

"Money, science and technology, equipment—none of these can bring you true sense of security. Capital cannot be your sole reliance; it cannot be anyone's sole reliance."

"You need care, understanding, and trust. You need someone to love you, and you need to love others."

Batman closed his eyes, remaining silent. Schiller had no intention of forcing him to speak. He glanced at the Demon standing at the entrance and gestured for them to approach. The Demon came forward and unlocked the iron chains. Schiller shrugged and said:

"I'm used to taking some fixed measures with my patients to prevent them from escaping. They often try to escape, and I don't know why; their courage is always so small. I followed the standard treatment procedure, and it felt quite good, don't you agree?"

Batman landed on his knees, coughing heavily, appearing very weak. Schiller inserted his hands into his suit pockets, overlooking him with a puzzled expression. "Look at you, always unable to endure a treatment process of less than an hour."

"Don't lie there like that, as if saying I'm an unprofessional violent doctor. But this is the very first time I've given you an extremely regular psychological treatment."

"I used almost all the techniques I've learned, and so far, no one has received such treatment. If you act like you've been abused, I'll burn your medical record when I get back, to prevent you from mentioning me in your autobiography, and me having to respond to you in mine."

Schiller's tone was very relaxed, something Batman hadn't heard in a long time. He remembered the last time Schiller sounded so relaxed was when he was a freshman, partying with Schiller, along with Harvey, Gordon, and Victor.

They gathered around a table, chatting and laughing. At that time, Schiller was also adept at such sarcastic humor, more like a Brit.

These scenes kept flashing through Batman's mind, making him even more dazed. Seeing his expression, Schiller shook his head and then turned to walk away, saying, "Don't expect me to help you up. My fusion process isn't complete yet. If you don't want to hear that lunatic laughing in your head at midnight, it's best to get up and walk by yourself."

Batman staggered to his feet, glancing back at the scene in the mine where the riot had been quelled.

The two Crimson Demons had failed. Morren wasn't a very cunning opponent, and although Merkel was young, he was much more experienced. He subdued Merkel the moment he drew his dagger.

Merkel walked back nervously with Hexagon in tow, comforting the creature with his touch. Meanwhile, he listened to Merkel describing Morren and his comrades' plan to assassinate Batman.

Merkel simply smiled at the plan, not taking it seriously. These miners, enslaved and trapped in the mine all day, could hardly devise any decent strategy.

In this world, no wise decision comes from daydreaming all day long. Their petty tricks seemed crude and clumsy, especially to someone like Alfred, who had seen countless battles, let alone Merkel, who easily saw through them.

Seeing that Hexagon was unharmed, Batman followed behind Schiller as they left the mine. They walked up the path along the mountainside and returned to the entrance of General Putrescent's castle. Standing outside the door, Schiller turned to Batman and said, "Why are you following me?"

"The psychological treatment is over. Although I don't charge by the hour, don't expect any freebies either." Schiller shook his head, smiling politely, like a cashier politely refusing rude customers.

Just as Schiller turned to approach the castle door, he heard Batman's voice behind him: "I want to stay for a while."

"Don't play dumb with me. I know you're not actually injured, and there are still many things waiting for you to do..." Schiller paused for a moment, then suddenly realized, "Oh, I almost forgot. General Putrescent provided me with a lot of help, so I should also take over his responsibilities. According to the original script, after you rush into the demon king's castle and kill him, you will find a letter in his office."

With that, Schiller took a paper from the nearby Demon and said, "This is a personal letter from Demon Lord Belial's wife, who is also the queen of this country, to General Putrescent."

"This General Putrescent seems to be the queen's cousin, or they have some other blood relationship. This queen, named Darth, writes in the letter that the newly appointed court mage has replaced her in Belial's heart, and Belial has started to distrust her."

"Of course, there's also mention here..." Schiller pointed at the letter, saying, "The name of this court mage is Schiller, of course, not me, but one of the many Schillers you saw running out of the high tower earlier."

"According to information from Lady Darth, these Schillers went to different Demon lords and assisted them. It seems they have instigated the war in Hell, apparently to vie for the high tower in the center of the battlefield."

Schiller closed the letter. "I won't read the rest, but this queen can no longer rely on her cousin. I found too much fat under General Putrescent's skin; he's been too comfortable for too long to provide any military assistance to his anxious cousin."

"However, you can." Schiller stepped forward, handing the letter to Batman. "Next, you must pay for the most professional psychological consultation you've just received."

"When I was in trouble, those indifferent guys didn't step forward to help me at all, and they must pay for it."

"I think the rise of that behemoth across the ocean's history has told you the best way to unleash the greatest war potential in a short time..."

"Go ahead, Batman."

After Schiller finished speaking, he and Batman stared at each other. Batman remained in place silently, so Schiller looked at him and said, "The mission has been completed. You can go now."

But Batman remained silent, standing still. Schiller sensed that Batman might want to say something, so he also stood still without moving. The two of them stood there, in a stalemate for a few minutes.

Now Batman was sure that the memories he had seen of Schiller's childhood in the memory space were true. Schiller really could stand and stare at a person for a few minutes, consistently from childhood to adulthood.

He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, but closed it again, lowering and then raising his head, like a puppet performing mime.

"What do you want to say?" Schiller asked, instinctively. "Is there no more clue? Wasn't what I said clear enough? Find a way to defeat them all and let me return home triumphantly, it's that simple."

"That's not what I wanted to ask," Batman suddenly said, then fell silent for several tens of seconds. Finally, he looked at the wound on Schiller's shoulder, where the metal ring pierced through his collarbone, still in place despite Schiller's vigorous movements, now blurred with blood and flesh.

Following Batman's gaze, Schiller looked down at his collarbone, but seemed somewhat puzzled. It was at this moment that he heard Batman's slightly stiff voice:

"...Is your wound okay?"

Schiller froze in place.

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