If it weren’t for the sudden inexplicable jump in readings within his line of sight, Superman almost thought he was truly afraid. His heart raced, dizziness overwheld him, and even his steps beca heavy—all because so data in his vision was rising.
"Unspeakable fear: When you know who he is, when you know where he is, you will inevitably feel fear. Only death can stop him."
Superman took a deep breath, attempting to suppress this panic with his willpower. But undoubtedly, he failed, not only because this was a mandatory negative state but also because he had to admit—the realization that they were confronting Batman in Gotham indeed brought considerable pressure.
However, Superman did not sit idly by. He quickly grabbed the chips he had rummaged from the drawer, fumbling out of the room, only to find he could no longer rember the location of the store he had seen earlier.
He couldn’t be this forgetful. Superman imdiately realized that even without his super brain, it was impossible to be thinking of finding a store after gathering chips one second and forgetting the location of the store he’d seen the next. Had soone forcibly erased his mory?
"Damn it," Superman muttered under his breath. The negative impact brought by the fear state wasn’t just an increased heart rate or heavy steps; it could affect his mind, causing his thoughts to beco chaotic and his mories scrambled.
When the darkness descended, Matt also froze for a mont. However, his vision was inherently all black, unaffected by the light. What made him pause was the faint sound of laughter he thought he heard.
Matt knew very well that this was definitely not the laughter of any player, much less Batman. The laughter sounded so sinister that it even made a chill run down his spine.
"Hehehe..."
Another laugh echoed. Matt suddenly turned his head, and even though he couldn’t see, he faced the direction the laughter ca from with his eyes. Yet, in his perception, there was nothing there. No ghost, no person.
"Hehe..."
Once more, a laugh echoed. Matt took a few steps to the side, grasping the doorway. His strong senses had never deceived him, and even if his mind was shattered, his sharpness remained. This proved that it couldn’t be an illusion; he must have been under so kind of attack.
"Batman..." he murmured. There could be no one else but Batman. Then could this laughter be Joker’s?
Batman couldn’t possibly have sent Joker to attack him. Then this was very likely a psyshock attack in the form of Joker.
Matt tried to calm down; he really had no reason to fear Joker. Although Batman and Night Devil had similarities, Night Devil and Joker had no entanglents, and Joker’s gibberish couldn’t possibly affect him.
Thinking this, Matt released his grip, ready to walk outside the door. But as he took a step, he solidly collided with the wall.
In that instant, cold sweat broke out over Matt, and his fingertips began to tremble.
His senses had deceived him.
There was no door there.
There had never been a door there.
Then what was the doorway he had been holding?
In that mont, Matt fell into true fear. For no one understood better than him how many fears lurk for soone truly blind without super senses.
He might have touched anything. A pillar, a window fra, a balcony railing, even... Batman’s arm armor.
The thing didn’t feel like tal, but he had no way to confirm it. He didn’t dare reach out to feel it again.
Vision is the most important and indispensable sense for the human race. The most common psychological disorder among blind individuals is the lack of Self-anchoring. Many people don’t know if they are truly alive.
Vision is inherently persuasive. Everything you see continuously sends signals to your brain, saying "this is real," but other senses lack this persuasion. Everything you hear, sll, and touch has to be processed by the brain a second ti to form an image in the mind. This ans that anything you feel could be an illusion woven by the brain.
Those born completely blind often fall into such doubt: is the world truly as they perceive it? Without a reference point, everything is unreliable.
People who beco fully blind later in life experience this symptom slightly less; their ntal imagery is more precise and persuasive than those born blind. Yet, as ti passes, they too fall into the sa lonely helplessness as those born blind. They don’t know if they exist in physical form or in awareness, and may even forget they have a physical body, believing they are dead, their soul adrift in the world.
Matt was not born completely blind, but he had indeed been sightless for a long ti. Worse, his senses were much stronger than ordinary people and had never deceived him. Precisely because of this, he rarely experienced the total helplessness that ordinary blind people face. This also ant that once his senses were completely disordered, he would beco even more disoriented.
As he stood there bewildered, One Hand suddenly grabbed him. The greedy voice whispered in his ear, "It’s ."
Matt didn’t even care if it was an illusion; he imdiately grabbed Greed’s arm. He knew he was squeezing too hard because Greed let out a low groan of pain. But he couldn’t lessen his grip, still clutching the other’s arm tightly.
"Don’t be afraid, Matt." Greed’s tone was gentle. "I’m here. I ca to you as soon as I discovered the illusion appearing. Are you alright?"
"I’m fine." Matt gritted his teeth and said, "I’m a superhero."
"Yes, yes, you are." Greed’s tone carried a hint of laughter. This indeed comforted Matt well. He loosened his grip slightly, but still didn’t dare to completely let go of Greed.
"This skill seems to target you, right?" Greed was clearly trying to guide Matt’s emotions. "Can you tell what you saw?"
"I heard laughter, possibly the Joker’s."
"Oh, then maybe Batman transferred the fear he experienced onto you all."
"The fear he experienced?"
"Yes, he previously killed the Joker, and part of the Joker Virus transferred onto him, causing him to constantly hallucinate about sharing a body with the Joker." Greed briefly introduced the storyline. "The Joker keeps nagging in his head and occasionally disrupts him. Yet, under such circumstances, he defeated hundreds of enemies overnight, completed a ton of tasks, and found over two hundred trophies."
Matt’s hand loosened even more. It was as if he was encouraging himself: "Yeah, it’s just an illusion. If Batman can overco it, why can’t I?"
"Of course you can. But you and the Joker have no personal feud. If it’s just his illusion, you wouldn’t be this scared."
"I’m not scared," Matt was still stubborn like a duck that refuses to admit being afraid. "I’m just a bit... a bit unclear about the current situation... What on earth is Batman up to?"
"You’re diverting the topic again. It seems you’ve indeed encountered sothing imnsely terrifying. What could it be?"
"Didn’t you say I’m your friend? Can’t you guess?"
"Bluntly pointing out the thing soone fears the most is quite impolite."
"I’m giving you the right to say it."
"Alright then." Greed seed to smile again. He leaned towards Matt and then gently embraced him, wrapping his hand around his body, and stroked his back. This series of comforting actions made Matt relax a bit.
Greed whispered close to Matt’s ear. "Hehehe..."
When the screams ca, the agent widened his eyes in shock. If he didn’t mishear it, this was Matt’s voice. What could make Matt scream so miserably, did Greed make a move?
Could it be that the President has more than one voter?
But right now, he didn’t want to think about these things, because that familiar music played again. However, this ti it was a distorted version, becoming more somber, with so chaotic parts in the middle, the kind that suddenly stops and then rapidly accelerates, sounding eerie.
The agent instinctively reached for his gun. He checked the gun and was just about to see his arm when he suddenly noticed the lines of text on his arm’s tattoo were twisting.
"Why won’t it stay?"
"Why always avoiding?"
"Why not long-lasting?"
These sentences seed nonsensical, but the agent felt like he understood what they wanted to say, just comnting: "Boring illusion."
The font kept switching between these three sentences, not like soone was questioning, but more like the inner voice was echoing.
"I know what you want to hear. I crave yet avoid establishing long-term relationships, so I joyfully take up jobs, building contacts with others almost without seeking return, and then turn away in the na of vacation imdiately after the task ends, briskly drawing a line like a philanderer indulging in one-night stands."
"But this is being an agent. You can’t find any agent who isn’t afraid of loneliness, yet good at establishing long-term relationships. Their profession inherently keeps them on society’s dark side, which inevitably brings psychological pressure; they need social interaction to maintain ntal health. But anyone involved in a relationship with an agent rarely lives long, avoiding witnessing soone’s death firsthand is the greatest sincerity an agent can offer as proof of friendship, so we always leave quickly."
"Engaging in deep emotional connections is a terrifying thing, because the more you invest, the greater the loss after the other party dies. I prefer enjoying the mont, sampling it. You’ve got to allow that soone in emotional solace is likewise willing to replace quality with quantity."
The agent gently sighed: "If one of Batman’s skills is making soone show their deepest fear, then he undoubtedly succeeded. Because I previously couldn’t even establish a long-term emotional relationship with myself, I hated self-communication, but now I’ve spoken so much to a tattoo; it’s truly rare."
"But a professional agent will quickly correct this error. Many clients, including those revered as gold-dal lawyers with countless enemies, hire my services. I need to go check on Matt."
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