RNP Chapter 4539 The Darkest Night (67)
Chapter 4539 The Darkest Night (67)
Chapter 4539 The Darkest Night (Sixty-Seven)
The blood tide controlled by the Black Death Emperor had grown into a truly bizarre form. It wasn't quite a monster; it resembled more of a crimson whirlwind. Much of its human tissue had transformed into hexagonal fibers, and the entire monster wasn't driven by physical forces. When it floated near the ground, it resembled a tsunami sweeping through a city.
But there were still formidable opponents after that. The monster that suddenly appeared in Schiller's field of vision wasn't really a monster. To be precise, it broke through humanity's current understanding of monsters, because it was a "weirdo."
Some people may have heard of molecular gastronomy. Simply put, it involves breaking down a food and then reassembling it into a new food that resembles the original. For example, you could break down a strawberry, add various seasonings, put it into a strawberry-shaped mold, and freeze it to create a new strawberry ice cream. Humans seem to love doing these kinds of pointless things, and this is clearly influenced by God.
Throughout the billions of years of life's evolution on Earth, God has played countless jokes. His dark humor is evident in every scale of the dragon and every claw of the beast. And now, God has also used humanity as a subject of molecular gastronomy.
The monster that crawled out of the lake was composed of countless fragmented human structures, and astonishingly, it had four limbs and a head made up of countless mutilated human faces. As if to further confirm that this form was not a coincidence, they deliberately left two holes in its head, pretending to be eyes.
The monster's entire body was composed of human corpses. When they were incorporated, their degrees of decay varied. Some were still relatively intact, some had begun to rot, and others had decayed to the point of being nothing but bones. This combination of so many things achieved an astonishing harmony. Bones provided support, the more decayed parts served as fat, and the less decayed parts adhered to the outer layer as defense. The entire organism seemed to circulate with vitality.
The appearance of this monster stunned everyone present, including the Black Death Emperor—especially the Black Death Emperor.
It's important to understand that the Black Death Emperor governs death. But humans are special, and like other mysterious beings, he pays more attention to them. He has witnessed countless deaths and believes that no death will ever be able to surprise him again.
But upon seeing this monster, he suddenly realized that his sanity also had a limit. More importantly, he deeply realized that the upper limit of evil for humans was unimaginable. Even a mysterious being like himself was far from reaching that level.
His ultimate goal is to bring the universe back to a lifeless, desolate state. Humanity's ultimate goal, however, is to equally torment every life form in the universe, including themselves.
He wasn't quite sure what humanity's purpose was in sending this monster to him. It was less of a sacrifice and more of a demonstration. It was as if they were showing him just how far humanity was capable.
Admittedly, such warnings and deterrence are effective. The moment he saw the monster, the Black Death Emperor also felt an urge to run. He controls death and spreads evil, but when it comes to madness, no race in the universe can possibly defeat humanity. They are born from order, yet they use every brain cell and neuron to challenge the limits of disorder and chaos.
Unlike the Black Death Emperor, who began to feel fear, another group became excited. Those madmen who had been watching the blood tide were thrilled by the sudden appearance of this monster.
If the blood tide possesses an unprecedented, eerie beauty, a kind of alternative beauty of death, then the "weirdo" that follows is the most mainstream aesthetic of "murder art." Its shape, demeanor, and spiritual core are all perfect, and its deadly black humor is the finishing touch.
What happens to humans after death? A corpse, of course. An indisputable scientific explanation, devoid of any imagination or philosophical thought. Creators, however, offer a silent protest. Look at those rigid minds devoid of artistic sensibility—this is the "corpse" you seek. It is precisely because of its scientific basis that it appears so absurd. Like Don Quixote, a body no different from any other dwells a soul brimming with extraordinary ideas. The mediocre who cannot understand him will forever only see the surface.
And what everyone—at least the self-proclaimed geniuses and madmen—loves most is to conform to absurdity, gleaning countless philosophical insights and artistic merits from it. This ridiculous body is the perfect material for them to showcase their inspiration and deconstructive abilities. Ordinary people think they are Quasimodo, but in reality, they see themselves as Esmeralda, gazing at the Hunchback of Notre Dame and yearning to be gazed upon by him.
"Who did this?!" Gordon roared. He realized with despair that if the monster in the lake was here, then where did the red monster come from? Sure enough, the problem of illegal dumping would never be stopped, only shifted. He wouldn't let Schiller throw corpses into the lake, so he'd throw them into the sea, huh?! That would have been worse than not stopping it at all; at least that way the monster would have gotten bigger, instead of a King Kong vs. Godzilla scenario like this.
"Who did this?!" everyone else asked. They frantically probed each other, whispering and trying to find out who had created such a great work of art, and after hearing the familiar name, they all sighed in relief.
I thought Rodriguez's era was finally coming to an end, but little did I know that his golden age was just beginning. To be able to create such works under Brainiac's nose, he truly is the greatest artist in the world.
"That guy doesn't seem to be up to it," Harley said, craning her neck to look in that direction. "I have a feeling he's going to run away."
"Escape? How could he possibly escape?" Jason was skeptical. "These mysterious beings shouldn't be afraid of something like this, right?"
“It’s hard to say,” Harley commented. “I can only assume that he lacks the aesthetic sense to appreciate this kind of art. In essence, he’s no different from those vulgar people.”
“Not really,” Jason said. “Blood Tide is a pretty perfect work. If it weren’t for the Professor’s sudden appearance…”
“It wasn’t him who suddenly appeared,” Harry interjected. “It was the two of us who brought that thing over.”
"Alright. If it weren't for the two of us causing it to suddenly appear, the Blood Tide would actually look pretty good, right? How could something like that lack aesthetic appeal?"
Harley frowned, realizing things weren't so simple. She said, "The entity manipulating the blood tide doesn't seem to be its creator... Damn it, we've all been fooled by him, he's a despicable thief!"
Jason stroked his chin and said, "This is interesting. Who stole the Blood Tide? Why would he do it? Just to show off in front of us?"
“I’m more concerned about who that person is than that,” Harley said, pointing to the Superbody flying behind them. Actually, the Superbody shouldn’t have been seen by them, but the sudden appearance of the lake monster had scared it out.
The figure radiating a gentle white light stood frozen in place, seemingly unable to believe what she was seeing. This is where Brainiac's superiority shone through. The lack of empathy was a natural shield; the extremely ordered programming helped him filter out cognitive contamination. Superbody, however, clearly lacked these abilities, and thus she was directly confronted with what was possibly the greatest work of art ever created, before being frozen in place due to her sanity depleted.
Schiller was speechless. He really wanted to ask Lucy, "What are you doing standing there? Weren't we supposed to be chasing the Black Death Emperor?"
Schiller's plan was actually quite simple. He knew that the Black Death Emperor's exploration of the Great Old Ones would not go smoothly, as evidenced by his constant summoning of the undead to extract power, which consumed a great deal of his energy.
Therefore, if we cut off his source of power, he will inevitably react. The sunk costs he has incurred on the Outer Gods and the Great Old Ones make it impossible for him to easily give up his exploration. And if we intercept all the takeout he has ordered, he will surely run out hungry.
Letting him escape is only the first step. The key is to get him to actively purge the death energy from the bodies of those undead. Not like completely expelling them like in "Lucy," but like the corpses on the beach, draining their energy while preserving their resurrected state. Only in this way is there a possibility of them truly being resurrected.
Driving the Black Death out of this universe isn't difficult; the real challenge lies in protecting the undead he created. These were all living people before, some even deliberately killed and resurrected by the Black Death to plant agents in key areas. Neither Schiller nor Brainiac can easily abandon these people.
Therefore, it is crucial to make the Black Death Emperor chase after his takeout. By constantly pressuring him and forcing him to draw power from the undead, the death energy lurking within the undead can be cleared to some extent, laying the foundation for his resurrection later.
The method of applying pressure is naturally through her superhuman abilities; the superhuman's life force counters the death force. As long as she keeps chasing and attacking the Black Emperor, she'll eventually make him devour all the world's takeout. Although she might not be able to save everyone, saving most of them would be quite good.
That's why they say nothing in Gotham ever goes according to plan. No matter how perfect the plan, the people of Gotham will turn it into a complete mess.
Schiller gritted his teeth, thinking, "I hope he doesn't find out who brought that thing from the lake in front of my house here." Of course, Superman was also partly to blame. A quick glance would have sufficed; why stand there admiring it for so long?
In reality, she wasn't admiring the figure at all; she was so terrified her brain went blank. Let me repeat, not everyone is a Gotham resident who can be indifferent to this kind of thing. Abilities are secondary; appearance and the spirit it conveys are the real weapons.
The good news is that where there's a hidden dragon, there's bound to be a phoenix chick. Superhuman's sanity was completely depleted, and the Black Death Emperor didn't have much left either. After a brief moment of reflection, he had to admit a very sad truth: he had once again chosen the wrong universe.
But it doesn't matter. Although he invested a lot of power in this universe, the losses are still acceptable. Rather than fighting against these completely unpredictable lunatics, it's better to pick on an easier target.
Almost instantly, the blood tide began to recede. This meant that the source of the power controlling this strange phenomenon was preparing to leave.
Schiller's face darkened. If he really got away like this, the plan would be a complete failure. Seeing that Lucy was out of the question, Schiller had no choice but to activate his backup plan.