In a dark alley, the faint reflection of the armor movement was entangled with a deeper and richer fog.

In an instant, the gray mist condensed into a figure, stopping at the end of the alley, and the friction of the armor stopped. The heavy footsteps stepped on the puddles that had not yet dried on the ground, making a light sound like a death-demanding talisman.

"Death knell?"

"That's indeed your death knell."

As soon as he finished speaking, a knife flashed, Schiller disappeared in place and appeared behind the figure again.

“Who is your employer?”

"You don't need to know this."

“It seems you have great confidence in your business level.”

Schiller dodged two more darts and faced the death knell, he said:

"You shouldn't kill me."

"I can kill anyone, as long as someone pays the starting price."

Schiller stretched out his hand and a cluster of flames ignited in his hand.

"No matter who your employer is, he is giving you the wrong price."

Death Knell was silent for less than a second and turned around and left.

"Goodbye, indeed."

“How would you treat employers who cheated on you?”

“Depending on the situation.”

"Kill him, I'll pay."

"You don't have that much money."

"The richest man in the world checked out."

"goodbye."

Schiller looked at the figure in armor and disappeared into the end of Gotham streets in a few breaths. He thought that his enemy was indeed a bit capable and could hire death knives to kill him.

Several consecutive flashes took Schiller a lot of energy. In such a deep alley, no car could be driven in, so he planned to walk back slowly, and wait until he returned to the church and call another car to pick him up.

He turned out of an alley and came to the street. Then he turned around and found that there seemed to be some movement in the deepest part of the street.

At this time, Batman was standing in an extremely dilapidated, dark and narrow room.

The environment here is very bad, and Batman has never been in such a uncomfortable room in his life.

This is a third floor, with windows nailed to death, all the outer layers of the walls falling off, the room is extremely wet, the floor is covered with smooth stone tiles, all the furniture is not where they should be, and the rest are all kinds of garbage.

The owner of the house saw Batman, the uninvited guest, was stunned for a moment, then lowered his head, looked at his feet, muttered a vague word, turned around hunched over, picked up a can of salt jar, and wanted to hand it to Batman.

Batman took the salt jar, it was empty and there was nothing, and the man waved his hand as if he wanted him to leave.

It was a shriveled and hunched old man with dark skin, his eyes were deeply sunken in his eye sockets, he was limping his feet while walking, and muttering some swearing words in his mouth.

It seemed that the neighbor downstairs heard something, and he poked his head out from the bottom of the stairs and said, "What are you looking for this old guy? Who are you from him?"

"What's wrong with him?"

"What else can happen? Can't you tell? He has Alzheimer's disease and doesn't know anyone at all. Even if you know him, he won't know you."

The neighbor could not see Batman from the angle, and could only vaguely see a figure. He said: "This old guy can't pay the rent. Every time the landlord comes, he will give the salt pot to others. Maybe in his era, the salt pot was quite valuable, but there was nothing in that salt pot."

"But he is lucky. His landlord seems to have died at the hands of a gangster. This attic is not worth much money. He has to collect the body if he kills him, so he has lived to this day."

"No matter who you are, don't worry about him. He can only pick up a little garbage thrown from the building every day. However, he moved upstairs a few days ago, so he probably won't live long."

After saying that, a "bang" came from downstairs, and it was the neighbor who closed the door.

Batman held the salt jar, and he watched the hunched old man sitting on the chair, looking at the table without saying a word, a little saliva flowed down from the corner of his mouth.

He saw Louis's hand, which was a very rough pair of hands. Almost all knuckles were twisted due to the years of moving heavy objects, and the blood vessels on the dry palms were clearly prominent.

"Are you Louis?"

There was no answer except Batman's own voice.

"Do you remember Thomas Wayne? Do you remember Martha?"

Batman felt his voice trembling.

An extreme anger rose from Batman's chest, and he creaked the salt pot.

His enemies did not remember all the innocent people he had hurt, and he forgot all his sins.

This was not a punishment for him, but it just allowed him to escape the blame in his heart, Batman thought.

He asked Louis over and over again:

"Why don't you remember anything?! Do you really don't remember the last name Wayne?! What about Edward? What about Falcone?!"

Just as Batman said the surname Falcone, the aging Louis suddenly let out a strange scream. He opened his mouth wide, and his jaws that had not moved for a long time made a crackling sound.

He fell from the chair with trembling all over, screaming, throwing everything he could pick up at Batman, tears and saliva flowing down his face.

Batman saw endless fear in his face.

Batman thought that Falcone did not lie to him. When he killed Lef, he did scare many people.

This includes Louis.

Schiller walked to the middle of the alley and looked up and saw that only one room on the third floor had lights on, and there was a black shadow with pointed ears in the room.

He stood under the building and waited for a while, and saw Batman coming out. Batman was also a little surprised to see Schiller, but his mind was a little dull now.

Schiller looked at Batman and found that he was not injured and had no signs of fighting with others.

Then his eyes fell on the salt jar in Batman's hand.

Schiller didn't know what it was, but obviously, Batman, who was in a complicated mood, needed to talk, so before Schiller could ask, Batman told the whole story.

They chatted and walked, and when they passed by the church door, it was almost dawn, Batman pinched the salt pot and said:

"He doesn't remember all this."

When Batman said this, he was no longer angry, and a complex feeling was contained in his tone.

"You said that, he still remembers someone."

"Yes, he still remembers Falcone, why did he not remember Wayne, but Falcone..."

Schiller sighed, looking into the distance, and said, "Because fear, because fear is the deepest and most difficult scar to remove in the depths of human souls."

"He forgot everything, but remembered fear, right?" said Batman.

At this time, it was the darkest moment before dawn. The rich blackness almost swallowed everything, and all the buildings were shrouded in shadows, making it impossible to see the outlines clearly.

Soon, what woke Batman up from his thoughts was the heavy bells of Gotham Cathedral. The dull bells were spread far away, and the sound waves were as pervasive as darkness. Even in the darkest and dark alleys, the tremor could be felt.

Batman thought, fear, fear.

If he could no longer fulfill his true revenge to those who were in that era, if he tried his best to capture the murderer, the object he wanted to revenge had completely forgotten all this, and all his anger and hatred were lost.

Then he at least reminded Batman of one thing, that is, sometimes, what is more terrifying than death is lingering fear.

That being the case, Batman thought that he would become a Dark Knight who brought endless fear to all Gotham criminals.

Many years ago, the one who accompanied his parents' death was the bats that crossed the sky with shadows. Many years later, he would eventually bring the fear of the bats to all the criminals in this city.
Chapter completed!