American comics: Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!.

Chapter 987 Batman's Despair!

The rustling sound of brooms scraping the ground, the muffled swiping of rags, and occasional complaints replaced the previous noise.

Peter sat in the main seat, watching the many unruly children reluctantly cleaning.

As Jian was lost in thought, the news on TV suddenly caught her attention.

The television was not showing a cartoon or a lighthearted morning news broadcast, but a serious, almost oppressive, interview program.

The scrolling headline at the bottom of the screen is alarming: "Dr. Helga's groundbreaking research: The mystery of the origins of superhumans—artificial weapons or natural evolution?"

The host had a solemn expression, and sitting opposite him was an elderly man with gray hair, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and looking indignant—the geneticist Helga.

His voice, transmitted clearly through the television speakers, reached Jane's ears.

"...The 'natural evolution and mutation theory' that we have been indoctrinated with for so long is a huge lie!"

Helga waved a thick report, and the camera zoomed in on it, showing a complex genetic map and the word "Confidential".

"Our research, based on cross-analysis of the genetic and physiological records of a large number of so-called 'elemental' superhumans, such as those who control fire, ice, earth, and even energy, has revealed undeniable traces of common human intervention! They are all government-made biological weapons!"

The camera then switched to playing blurry black-and-white or early color video clips from decades ago.

People dressed in crude straitjackets were injected with an unknown liquid, after which uncontrollable lightning erupted from their bodies, creating a chaotic and painful scene.

Next came several photos of documents marked with a top-secret seal, with the words "Project objective: To manufacture controllable humanoid elemental weapons" on them.

Helga's voice trembled with anger: "This is no isolated case! We analyzed global superhuman distribution data—over 90% of registered superhumans are concentrated in the United States! Is this a coincidence? No! This is a man-made 'experimental field'!"

"Those 'superhero' vs. 'supervillain' battles that unfold on the streets, those devastating fights and disasters, are all elaborately designed stages! They are disguises used by governments, the military, and even certain giant conglomerates to test, iterate, and screen the humanoid weapons they create!"

"The so-called 'villains' may be out-of-control test subjects, or they may be deliberately released 'stress tests'! The entire country, and even the world, is a giant laboratory where they conduct human experiments with weapons of mass destruction!"

Everyone in the room heard the news broadcast on television, and they were all stunned by the news.

The half-eaten chocolate that Mordred was holding in her mouth froze on her lips.

The tempting strawberry on Ceressa's fork tip quietly fell.

Bao Bao, who had been running around the table frantically and exhausted herself, seemed to have been put on pause. Her mouth was wide open, and her blue eyes reflected the painful and distorted figures on the screen, looking bewildered and lost.

Ah Zu looked at the news on TV with a rather unpleasant expression.

His hands were placed on his chest, his knuckles making a sickeningly loud clicking sound from the extreme force he was using.

That sculpted, perfectly formed face first froze in a blank look of astonishment, then twisted with anger.

tester?
arms?

This thought, like the filthiest maggots, burrowed into my brain, bringing unprecedented disgust.

Is this media outlet really not making veiled criticisms of itself?

This seems to be talking about Compound 5.

Are these guys suspecting they're also test subjects?!
Azu glanced at Peter with a grim expression.

Peter remained completely calm.

Loki was initially shocked, but then a hint of schadenfreude flashed in his eyes.

His gaze swept over Azu, who was on the verge of exploding, and he coughed.

Why does this sound so much like the world of Black Robes?

Horus stared at the experimental images with a serious expression.

Loli Ceresa's delicate eyebrows furrowed, she glanced at Peter, wanted to speak but forcibly swallowed what she wanted to say.

The little girl Mordred swallowed a mouthful of chocolate, her face full of disdain and high-spirited fighting spirit: "Hmph! So what if I'm a test subject? Strength is the only truth! Anyone who dares to use me as a test subject, I'll smash their lousy laboratory along with themselves."

Her little fists clenched tightly, her knuckles turning white, as if she were about to fulfill her promise at any moment.

Peter: "."

He glared at Mordred with displeasure. "No swearing, Morty!"

Mordred immediately adopted a docile demeanor, "I didn't mean it, Father."

Peter glared at Mordred before looking away.

When did this brat learn to swear?!
How dare you call yourself "Grandpa"? Who gave you the courage?

You're the boss, and what am I?!

Peter felt a touch of sadness and melancholy.

My youngest daughter has gone astray!

Peter quickly turned his thoughts to the news in front of him and fell into deep thought.

A bizarre and fantastical ecosystem of heroes and villains—is it a global network of lies and a giant human laboratory?!
A tremendous sense of absurdity washed over him.

Why are 90% of people with superpowers in the United States?
Nonsense, if American comic book superheroes weren't in America, would they still be at "Dongda" (University of Tokyo)?
This theory is definitely nonsense, but there's no guarantee that the public won't actually believe it.

Stroking his chin, Peter suddenly felt that a storm might be brewing.

At this moment, only Dr. Helga's continuous, impassioned, and angry accusations on television remained in the living room, along with the various emotions stirring within the hearts of the "fathers of sorrow."

The dining table, which had just been cleaned, seemed to be instantly covered by an invisible yet heavy layer of "truth" or "conspiracy".

Azu felt that the two crimson lights in his eyes might burst forth at any moment, turning everything in front of him, including the incessantly chattering television screen, into cosmic dust.

However, considering that Peter might punish him if he actually did that, he quickly reined in his thoughts.

"Dad, do you believe in this theory?"

Azu took a deep breath, suppressing his displeasure, and asked Peter.

Peter shook his head and glanced at him. "This isn't the Black Robe World, there's no Vought Corporation here, and there's no Compound V. Where did this conspiracy theory come from?"

When Azu heard Peter mention the black robe and Walter again, he became even more depressed.

He always felt that his father's perspective seemed to imply that he was a man-made experimental subject.

Two days later.

Thousands of miles away, Gotham has been engulfed in a furnace of anger.

Gotham on a rainy night is like a pot of boiling asphalt, with darkness churning in the rain.

On the giant screen of Wayne Tower, a city landmark, Dr. Helga's core summary of her "Transhuman Theory" scrolled across the night sky, with crimson subtitles appearing: [97% of Transhumans Concentrated in the United States—Ironclad Evidence of Military Live Weapon Experiments!]

Below, on the wet streets, a dark mass of people converged into an angry torrent.

They held aloft bat symbols that were burning fiercely, the flames crackling.

The roars coalesced into a deafening sound, echoing through the rainy night: "We need the truth!"

Countless distorted faces swayed under the dim streetlights, and placards were covered with the most vicious accusations:
"Batman, take off your mask! Reveal your true identity!"

"Gotham doesn't need puppets! Batman, get out of our city!"

At this moment, Batman, hated by the citizens of Gotham, is like a stone statue soaked by rain and abandoned, huddled in the cold shadow of the Dripping Beast.

The heavy cloak, soaked with rainwater, felt like a lead weight.

The helmet's built-in high-precision scanner cruelly magnifies the details of the crowd and projects them onto his retina.

He saw a young girl, in a fit of glee, tearing a newspaper with his profile printed on it into pieces and throwing them into the air.

The owner of the corner bakery, the old man he once saved from Mr. Freeze's gun, is now smashing rotten tomatoes against the already faded bat graffiti on the wall at the alley entrance.

The most glaring thing is the behavior of the new police officers in the Gotham Police Department.

Even the police believe that Batman is a biological weapon and puppet created by the US government.

A policeman stood at the front of a line of fully armed riot police, his voice, coming clearly from a megaphone, piercing through the rain and noise.

"Citizens have the right to know the truth! Batman, if you truly are the protector of this city as you claim, then stand up! Stand in the light! Explain to everyone—why are all the world's 'superhuman miracles' landing only in secret American laboratories?!"

The police's voice quickly gained more support from the public.

Seeing this scene before him, the pain was like sharp glass, cutting into Bruce Wayne's nerves.

After two days of development, Dr. Helga's so-called "revelation report" is like a malignant tumor implanted in society, which has now spread to an incurable stage.

The front page of the newspaper once published various "declassified" project files. In the yellowed photos, prisoners' bodies convulsed in pain from strong electric currents. Those secret government experiments made people begin to believe that there really was a theory of creating superhuman beings.

Superhumans are not products of natural evolution, but rather experimental subjects created by humans. The most compelling evidence is the ability of elemental beings.

In Dr. Helga's report, there is a superhuman called "Elemental Man," who is a product of a secret government experiment.

This also explains why over 90% of the world's superhumans reside in the United States. The so-called superhero and supervillain tropes are all government propaganda, designed to conduct experiments and develop weapons of mass destruction for the United States.

As more and more government experiments involving superpowers were confirmed, the public gradually came to believe in the "superhuman theory."

As a result, Batman, Gotham's most famous superhero, was immediately nailed to the pillar of historical shame by public opinion and became the most "powerful" evidence for conspiracy theories.

"Crack!"

A pale bolt of lightning tore through the leaden sky, and the momentary light illuminated an even more absurd and chilling scene.

A young police officer, standing on the roof of a police car, ripped open his uniform under the watchful eyes of the crowd, revealing a T-shirt underneath that read "Anti-Superhuman Alliance." He roared hoarsely into the shadows:

"Batman! Look at Arkham! The lunatics you arrest can escape the very next day! This isn't incompetence—it's a script! You're a puppet of the government, acting and fooling us all along!"

The crowd erupted in a deafening, echoing roar.

Rotten vegetable leaves, rotten eggs, and stones rained down on the Batman portrait, making dull thuds.

Bruce shook his head, decisively activated the grappling hook, and swung into the deeper alley.

The voices opposing Batman rang out again through the loudspeaker, laced with undisguised mockery:
"Batman is a puppet of the government! He's afraid of having his true, hidden face exposed! Batman is afraid; he's just a puppet of the government, he's not real!"

"Oh!"

Bruce suddenly flapped his cloak and swung towards another building.

In the fleeting moment as he passed through the alley, Bruce caught a glimpse of a shivering little boy in the deepest shadow at the end of the alley.

That face seemed somewhat familiar to him.

That was the child he had personally carried out from a raging fire that had devoured their home a few months earlier.

At that moment, the child was clutching a booklet with a cover that read "Drive Batman out of Gotham."

The look in his eyes when he looked in Batman's direction was no longer one of gratitude for surviving a disaster, but rather one of fear, as if he were looking at a demon spreading a plague.

Inside the bat cave.

Alfred Pennyworth silently turned off the news feed playing on the console.

On the screen, Lex Luthor is giving a passionate speech.

The old butler handed Bruce a dry, warm towel, his face full of concern.

His aged voice, heavy with questioning, echoed in the empty cave:
"Young Master Bruce... when the entire city... when those you once risked your life to protect refuse to be saved, and even despise the rescuers... what are you still fighting for?"

Water droplets condensed on the cave ceiling dripped onto the cold control panel, making a soft "tap...tap...tap..." sound.

Bruce did not answer immediately.

His gaze pierced through the glass display case, fixed intently on one of the uniforms.

This uniform was a gift from Peter, made using techniques from Brainiac.

Horus and Booboo also participated in the uniform making.

The black uniform, with its futuristic style and flowing dark red lines, is one of his favorite bat uniforms.

Staring at the uniform, Bruce felt a bitter taste a hundred times more painful than bleeding or being injured.

He could use fear to deter evil in Gotham, but he found himself powerless to fight against a world that was willing to indulge in conspiracy theories and believe in dark fairy tales rather than accept complex reality.

"I don't know, but I believe it will eventually end. People won't stay angry forever; they will eventually calm down and understand the truth."

Bruce was tired at this moment; for the first time, he felt powerless and exhausted.

He suddenly remembered Peter, who had come to keep him company on Christmas Eve the night before last.

I wonder what the Godfather is doing now?
Outside the window, the rainy night in Gotham did not calm down even after the rain stopped.

On the contrary, the flames that represented anger seemed to burn even more fiercely.

Gotham is burning; trust has collapsed.

And this storm sweeping across two worlds has only just begun.

(End of this chapter)