Layers of Fear (Part 3)

The monster with Alfred's face had caught up with him, but Bruce suddenly calmed down. He slowed his pace and walked slowly into the dark alley.

Just after he had mentally prepared himself, the situation in the alley was beyond his expectations, because there was nothing there that he feared most. Instead, there were... two people drinking.

One of them is Jack with green hair, and the other is... Professor Schiller with green hair?

Bruce looked puzzled. At that moment, the green-haired Schiller turned to look at Bruce and said, "You're not expecting two corpses lying here, and a loose pearl necklace, are you?"

"You see, this is the most basic application of psychology. All the rules before this are instilling in you the idea of facing all kinds of fears. So when you see an intersection that looks exactly like the alley where your parents died, you will instinctively feel that the thing you least want to see will definitely appear there..."

"Just like when the first six answers are 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, someone will definitely fill in 7 as the seventh answer, even though the question for the seventh question is what you ate for breakfast this morning..."

"I had a waffle this morning, and it was awful! It was way too sweet!" Jack complained. "And it was expensive too, costing 50 cents!"

Bruce was completely bewildered. He didn't understand what was going on. He wanted to speak, but Schiller spoke first, "You must be wondering what happened. You should be asking how we got here and what's going on here."

"But this is a common psychological trap. Have you forgotten? You're dreaming. Logic doesn't exist in dreams. You're thinking about these issues because we're suddenly speaking to you in a very logical way. But in reality, you're ignoring many more strange things, such as..."

Bruce looked at him, Schiller smiled at him, saying, "Do you like my new hair color?"

Bruce paused abruptly. He realized that this was indeed the case, because Schiller was speaking to him in a logical way, so his mind returned to the world of logic. But in reality, the scene was still illogical, because Professor Schiller's hair was not green in reality, and it was absolutely impossible for him to have such Joker makeup on his face.

More importantly, the two green-haired men were drinking on the back of an elephant, which looked like a cartoon character, squeezed into a narrow alley with all four legs crammed together, but Bruce didn't find it strange at all.

Bruce sighed and said, "What on earth is going on?"

"Look! He actually asked!" Jack cheered, raising his glass and gulping down the liquor before swallowing.

"I told you long ago, even if you explain the principles to him, he's still a boring person. That's just how Batman is. Even in his dreams, he'll suspect there's some kind of conspiracy behind it all. That's just how he is, haha ..."

"Stop laughing, we have serious business to attend to."

No sooner had Schiller finished speaking than he appeared in front of Bruce, then swung his umbrella and knocked Bruce unconscious.

A white halo appeared before Bruce's eyes. When he opened his eyes, he found himself trapped on an operating table, with the bright lights of the operating room overhead.

Two green-haired men with Joker makeup were standing in front of him, wearing white coats and holding scalpels.

Bruce closed his eyes again, then opened them. Schiller, with green hair, held a scalpel and said to him, "I know you must be very confused right now, but that's okay. We can explain everything before we start the surgery."

"Why are you in my dream?" Bruce asked him.

"That's a long story..." Schiller was about to explain when Jack suddenly shouted, "Because you abandoned us and left Gotham! You went on vacation! How could you do that?! You broke all our hearts!!"

"Alright, Jack." The green-haired Schiller seemed calmer, but Bruce sensed a more dangerous aura emanating from him. Schiller said seriously, "You should know that I'm a psychologist, and recently, my research topic has been—dreams."

"Dream?"

"That's right, or rather, it's the human consciousness space, and I've already moved beyond the stage of studying the consciousness space of ordinary people..."

"A long time ago, I had a hypothesis: if the highest point of the Mind Palace is reality, then the lowest point below the earth's surface must be the Dreamscape the Sandman. Just recently, I verified this theory..."

"I thought everyone was in the same situation as me, but Jack disagreed, arguing that Batman was different from everyone else..."

"So, we made a bet."

Bruce raised his head, looking at the green-haired Schiller. Jack chuckled and said, "I bet the bottom of your deep consciousness doesn't connect to the Dreamscape, but hides something dangerous..."

"Actually, I know something about this," Schiller, the green-haired man, continued. "But I felt that what Jack was talking about shouldn't be here, so we came up with a way to see who was right."

"What method?" Bruce asked.

"Now that you know this is a dream, do you know where you are in reality? Or rather, do you know when you entered the dream?"

Bruce thought for a moment and said, "When I was lying in bed at the Wayne Manor?"

"No, your body is not in a bed at the Wayne Manor now, but under the signpost at the entrance to Gotham City."

"In other words, everything that happened after you entered Gotham was a dream."

"After you entered Gotham, that dream actually happened in your surface consciousness space, including Jack ramming your Batmobile with a heavy truck, pressing a button, blowing up the chemical plant, and then tying those people to the roof of the building and letting them fall. These are the first layer of the dream that happened in the surface consciousness space."

"To prevent you from suspecting everything and waking up quickly, Jack orchestrated a series of accidents to exhaust you, so that you would fall asleep as soon as you returned to the Wayne Manor."

"And when you fall asleep and dream again, you enter the second layer of the dream, where you see a Joker standing in front of your bed, brandishing a dagger at you. Then, the third and fourth layers of the dream follow..."

"And so on, the number of times you fail in the Wayne Manor corresponds to the number of layers of the dream you fall into."

"During this process, your consciousness gradually descends from the surface level of consciousness to the deeper level, and then keeps digging down until it reaches here..."

"Here? Where is this?"

"This is the very bottom of your subconscious, I like to call it... the 'edge'."

Why did you bring me here?

"To find out what dangerous thing might be lurking inside you." Jack looked into Bruce's eyes, but it was as if he wasn't looking at Bruce, but rather looking through his eyes into the depths of his soul.

"Jack speculates that the dangerous and nasty thing might be deep within your subconscious, but again, it wouldn't be hiding on the main street. If there really is an incubation chamber for it here, then guess where it would be?"

Bruce suddenly understood. He looked at Schiller's scalpel and said, "You think he's inside my body?"

"That's right, only when you go to the deepest level of your subconscious can we possibly find it, so now..."

Schiller his green hair, gave a maniacal grin that sent chills down Bruce. The thought of the professor and the Joker becoming one made him feel that nothing in the world could be more terrifying.

But he didn't struggle. Instead, he thought for a moment and lay back down on the operating table.

This surprised both Joker. Bruce said, "... I suddenly understand your mental state a little better. Perhaps you seem very crazy in the real world, but perhaps you are right in your dreams..."

"This is so boring." Jack curled his lip, but Schiller wasn't disappointed. He said, "You didn't expect him to scream and cry for us to stop, did you? Even if he doesn't understand, he won't do it. That's Batman, isn't it?"

"Alright, now let's see if what you're talking about actually exists..."

Next, Schiller used a scalpel to stab Bruce's forehead, cutting open the skin tissue on his face, while Jack peeled off Bruce's skin like peeling a banana.

Epidermis, dermis, fat layer— Schiller was in charge of making the incision, Jack was in charge of peeling the banana, then the muscle tissue, and then the bones...

The shredded remains resembled an old, worn-out jacket, piled crumpled and crumpled to one side. Two terrifying, green-haired Doctor, their hands and bodies covered in blood, wore only the lingering crazed smiles on their faces. Jack occasionally let out a whimper, seemingly grieving for Batman's dismembered state.

Those unspeakable scraps were carelessly thrown on the ground, piling up higher and higher. When the last layer of tissue was peeled away, what appeared inside Bruce's body was not the internal organs of a normal person, but—another Bruce.

Schiller sighed and said, "Perhaps you're about to win, because he does seem abnormal."

"Normal? When have you ever thought Batman was normal? I'd be disappointed if you peeled back his skin and found a heart underneath."

"It seems we'll have to try again."

Schiller, with his green hair, and Jack, with his green hair, exchanged a glance. They saw no weariness or frustration in each other's eyes, only excitement, like two deadly eccentric doctors straight out of a horror movie.

At first, things were relatively harmonious, but later the two started arguing. The green-haired Schiller claimed that Jack didn't have a medical license and wanted to have all the even-numbered floors of Bruce's. Jack, on the other hand, thought it should be divided according to body parts, and he wanted the head part, which Schiller naturally disagreed with.

Regardless, as he cut open the skin and peeled away the outer tissue, one Bruce after another appeared inside him. The discarded scraps and bits had almost filled the entire room, until Jack peeled off the last layer.

After the last layer of skin was peeled away, a writhing black monster lay there. Its body and limbs were tubes no thicker than a wrist, wrapped in layer after layer of Bruce, except for its head.

It wasn't Bruce's face there, but a gray egg with bright red lips and a huge, wide grin.

Just as the last layer of skin was peeled away, the arthropod-like monster, having shed all the skin still covering it, was about to leap up.

Just then, One Hand pressed down on its neck, and Jack leaned in, revealing the same Laughing Man, and said, "Found you, No. 3."

I wonder if you can figure out what I sewed up in this whole big event? The reward for guessing correctly... The Joker will come knocking on your bed in the middle of the night! Hehehehehehe—