[Integrated/Crossover DC/Marvel] Why Did the World End Again? - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Strange Altar

“Jason Todd? Your son is named Jason Todd?”

Jason immediately felt a chilling sense of dissonance, while the passerby hurriedly explained.

“He wasn’t her biological son; she adopted him. Five years ago, that boy wandered into town covered in wounds, beaten half to death. He kept mumbling something about a ‘bat,’ and then he fell into a high fever and lost his memory. He only remembered his name. Fanny raised him for a few years, but just last year, he said there was something he absolutely had to do, and then he left. He never came back…”

Jason noticed the man pause for a moment before stopping abruptly. This person who shared his name definitely had something strange about him. After speaking, the pedestrian shouldered his hoe and walked away. The old woman also released her grip, wandering into the distance while continuously muttering Jason’s name.

Jason’s intuition told him the man hadn’t told the full story; there was a hidden truth. He followed the man until they were far enough away for the man to stop and sigh.

“Young man, there’s no need to ask further. Truth is, the boy is already dead… he came back dragging his last breath. But it was no use. Fanny was out at the time and didn’t make it back to see him one last time. After we told her, she went mad. She refuses to accept the reality that Jay is dead. Or perhaps, people just need something to look forward to, so we keep up the act. We let her believe her son is still alive. Just bear with it; don’t hold it against a confused old woman…”

Hearing this, Jason fell into silence. He had already guessed parts of it. He found it somewhat farcical—he had already died once; had the “him” of this world failed to escape that fate as well?

“Can I see where his grave is?”

The man pointed toward the west and then turned to leave, muttering as he went.

“So young… just gone like that. What a pity…”

Jason followed the directions until he finally saw a dilapidated tombstone. A bouquet of slightly withered flowers sat before the grave, clearly placed there recently. The inscription read:

“Grave of Jason Todd”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jason drew his dagger and dug up the grave. When he saw the full state of the remains inside, he went silent.

If he could have numbed himself to the coincidence of the name before, he could no longer deceive himself now. The corpse lying there wore different clothes, but the size of the skeleton and the locations of multiple fractures confirmed one fact: this was him. Perhaps a version of him from a parallel world, or perhaps his future self…

He examined the cause of death, eventually stopping at the abdominal cavity. A Batarang was lodged right in the center beneath the ribs. Presumably, this was the primary cause of death.

When the body had been processed, there had been no autopsy; it had simply been buried as is. After a few years, the flesh had rotted away, allowing the Batarang to see the light of day once more.

Jason pulled out the Batarang and stared at it. His eyes were trained; he could easily tell that this was Bruce’s projectile. But it was clearly an older model. In his own world, Bruce’s gear had been updated long ago. So, in this world, had Bruce killed him, or had someone stolen a Batarang to do the deed?

It was all a mystery. Jason Todd let out a long sigh.

“Things just got complicated…”

The High Tower.

Through the descriptions of her cellmate, Alice understood the general situation.

Most of the girls here came from nearby towns. The local area was primitive and underdeveloped, with no connection to the outside world. This high tower—actually a lighthouse—had been abandoned for years and was only taken over recently. Alice personally suspected that this “takeover” was just a serial killer claiming the place for himself and deceiving the locals under some official guise.

But Alice felt something was off. This killer had no apparent criteria. No one knew which room he would pick next, how he would murder the girls, or what his goal was.

As the woman on the other side spoke, Alice could feel her terror. Facing Alice’s silence, the woman eventually broke down, unable to take it.

“He’s running out of people to catch now. He won’t be bringing in anyone new. Maybe he’ll kill me tomorrow, and you the day after. We’re all going to die…”

Despair and struggle rose in Alice’s heart. She had just gone to sleep and ended up kidnapped by a psycho. Was no one coming to help her? Or, since she was wearing game equipment, couldn’t she have some superpowers or special abilities? She wanted to live!

Thinking of this, Alice regretted it. If she had known, she should have equipped her character with rocket launchers or atomic bombs. Alice curled up on the ground. The cold floor offered no warmth. What could she do? The sound of friction continued from next door. What was that? The sound of a body being dragged across the floor?

In a moment of weakness, a thought even crossed her mind: If only the psycho would catch a few more people… if there were more people, the probability of her being chosen would be smaller… As soon as the thought appeared, Alice slapped herself. How had she become like this? Although people become cowardly in the face of death, was it really worth surviving at the cost of someone else’s life?

“I have to find a way. I have to survive…”

Alice thought of the detective novels she used to read. When facing this kind of horrific criminal, one must never scream or beg for mercy. They have long lost basic human kindness; a victim’s pleading only makes them more excited…

Alice was just an ordinary girl. The most “hardcore” things she had seen in her life were probably R-rated sites she accidentally clicked on while gaming, or the streetwalkers she saw during her three days in Gotham. She looked at the pitch-black surroundings and the uncertainty of the future. Was it too late to just run head-first into a wall and end it?

Before Alice could devise a painless way to die, heavy footsteps echoed outside the door again. Alice felt her heart was about to leap out of her chest. Don’t open my door, please, please, please!!!

But then came the sound of dragging—a familiar sound, like a burlap sack scraping the ground and someone struggling.

“He caught someone else?”

Then came a short groan, followed by the sound of a key entering the lock. Alice immediately dove into the corner, keeping as far from the door as possible. However, when the door swung open, a relatively slender figure appeared.

Jason decided to first find the culprit behind the kidnappings. All clues pointed to the High Tower. He wondered—lighthouse keepers were usually specialized workers, but had this lighthouse ever been lit since nightfall?

The people in the town were also very strange. They seemed anxious about the missing girls, yet took no practical action, and no one thought to call the police. The “prestigious” Wayne girl who came to invest had also vanished, yet it hadn’t caused much of a stir. There was definitely something rotten here.

Jason observed the area. The villagers seemed to be heading to one place in an organized fashion. Jason followed them to the shore, where someone produced something and threw it into the sea.

Jason could see a tint of red appearing on the dark surface of the water. They said:

“It’s not enough.”

Then they appeared to be preparing some sort of ritual. When strange symbols and numbers were drawn, Jason finally realized the truth. Nine missing girls. Nine sacrifices. Nine lanterns.

“Justice never exists in a savage land.”

Thinking this, Jason looked at these supposedly “simple” villagers and found them farcical. Beneath the guise of kindness was hidden evil. Or did anyone truly care? When they believe in gods and sacrifice flesh and blood, does anyone care about the life or death of the “sacrifice”?

How many people had been lured here and deceived? No one cared about the truth, just as no one cared about justice. They only cared about the brief joy brought by impending death, or the entertainment provided by misfortune. They would live happily every day until disaster struck them personally—only then would they truly repent…

Jason Todd arrived at the base of the High Tower.

Watching the door open, Alice felt like she was going to faint. Almighty Lord, God, or whatever—even the Queen Mother of the West is fine—can someone please save me…

Alice was close to tears. Other people who transmigrate become “girlboss” protagonists, or at least cultivate immortality to rule the world. She transmigrated into a game with no system or “golden finger” at the start, and now she had to fight a killer to the death. Great. No need to worry about the “rat race” of life anymore, because she was about to die…

The figure gradually approached her. Alice didn’t dare to breathe. Only when the moonlight fully illuminated the person’s face did Alice breathe a sigh of relief. It was the Billionaire Sister!

It was the Billionaire Sister who rode the pink electric scooter!!!

“I’m blessed again…”

Lycoris Wayne looked at the girl with the strange expression but didn’t pay it much mind. She held the keys, busy opening the next door. Before stepping out, she glanced at the man she had knocked unconscious and smiled. There was going to be a good show in a moment…

Alice’s brain finally kicked into gear. So, she had entered a scripted game event? Was the next part of the plot the Billionaire Sister wielding an axe and hacking people? The psycho killer fleeing in pathetic defeat, eventually getting chopped to death?

So what was she supposed to do? Wait for her to finish the job?

Alice looked at the man lying at the doorway. He had clearly been knocked out by Lycoris. There were no visible wounds on his head; maybe she hit the back of his neck?

Seeing the steady rise and fall of his chest, Alice mustered the courage to stand up. She looked at the man, then raised the wooden board in her hand. Horror movies always taught people one very important thing:

“If you don’t double-tap, you’re usually going to die a very miserable death.”

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