OBS Chapter 4562 The Day of Brightest Day (21)
Chapter 4562 The Day of Brightest Day (21)
Chapter 4562 The Day of Brightest Light (Part 21)
“You won’t find it,” Schiller said with a smile, a smile that didn’t hide much malice and therefore didn’t seem like gloating.
“The problem goes back to square one,” Schiller continued. “Although you have regained your youthful appearance, you are clearly over fifty. Your abilities and experience dictate that you can never return to the innocent days of your youth. And you already have children. You have reached the age to lead them.”
When children were mentioned, Deathstroke's expression turned to one of reminiscence. Then he heard Schiller continue: "Many parents in this world are like this. They appear to be mature adults, forming families and raising children. But in reality, they themselves have many unresolved problems. Thus, intergenerational trauma is passed down, leading to the same tragedies in different eras."
This reminded Deathstroke of his own father. His brain, developed to a near-perfect degree after undergoing human augmentation, allowed him to recall many details of his childhood. That man was clearly immature, starting a family too early without taking responsibility, indulging in wanton violence, and otherwise incapable of anything else.
Looking back now, he was also a loser who lost the entire battle. And his failure led to Deathstroke's failure. This made Deathstroke feel somewhat panicked, because he was unsure whether his failure had affected his children.
“What should I do?” Deathstroke asked.
"Remember what I said? The most important thing is not to forget that these are all you. What's wrong with societal discipline not working on you?"
“Just as you guessed, excessive indulgence almost killed me,” Deathstroke said. “I don’t want to go through that again. But it’s hard to be sure I won’t lose control again.”
“You don’t seem like the kind of person who would revere death,” Schiller said. “I suspect there’s something else going on. Your son?”
The death knell did not answer. So Schiller said, “It seems you are very worried about him. This proves he has some qualities that worry you. I’m more curious about something else: you said your children don’t recognize you. How is that possible?”
“What’s impossible? I’ve become so young, I look completely different from before…”
"So your children only recognize you by your appearance?"
“Not really. It’s just that Joseph is a bit… not very calm.” Deathstroke looked a bit of a headache, then he suddenly realized what Schiller meant by the intergenerational trauma—he killed his father, so would Joseph kill him?
This is not impossible. As Joseph grows older, he gradually realizes that his father is not normal. Although Deathstroke tries his best to avoid displaying violence within the family—he wouldn't even raise his voice to his wife and children—his deliberate efforts to cultivate a reputation for violence, while helpful at work, have also instilled in him in some ineradicable habits. Violence is ingrained in his very being. Sooner or later, Joseph will realize something is wrong, just as Deathstroke realized something was wrong with his father. They might make the same choice.
This is absolutely unacceptable. Deathstroke took a deep breath. Was the person who made himself younger trying to achieve this goal?
“The history of patriarchal society is a spiral of Oedipus complex and patricide,” Schiller said. “Is your inability to accept this due to fear of death, or fear that Joseph will not be able to accept his own crimes?”
“Perhaps both,” Deathstroke said. “I can’t accept dying at the hands of my own son, and I know very well that he can’t either.”
He crumpled the beer can, looked at Schiller, and said, “Okay, let’s skip the formalities. Let’s talk about what to do.”
“If you can’t salvage the situation, and you can’t accept a certain kind of failure, then you can only try to fail in another way.” Schiller smiled, his voice lowering as he spoke slowly and deliberately, “Perhaps, you can avoid becoming a burden to your son?”
Deathstroke felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head. He gripped the hilt of his sword abruptly, realizing what Schiller wanted to do to him—it was a form of hypnosis, intended to incite him to commit suicide.
No, it was less like serious instigation and more like he was being played.
Deathstroke was utterly enraged. He didn't care if it was a killer whale or a locomotive; he wouldn't be Wilson if he didn't smash it to pieces!
He swung his sword down. Schiller rolled, his shoulder slamming against the wall, the fracture in his scapula still fresh. As the intense pain shot through him, Schiller looked blankly at the raging death knell in the center of the room.
"What are you doing?!" Schiller shouted. "Are you trying to kill me?"
He drew his pistol, clearly intending to defend himself. But before Deathstroke could unleash his second strike, he keenly sensed that Schiller seemed to have reverted to his old self.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Deathstroke's roar was deafening. "If you don't answer in three seconds, I'll kill you!!!"
“That’s a long story,” Schiller said, extending his hand. “Calm down, I’ll get to the point. I have dissociative identity disorder. That was my other personality just now…”
"In your next life, make your excuses into punctuation marks! Take this!!!"
The living room, already nearly destroyed, was now a complete mess. Deathstroke's sword light filled the entire room, forcing Schiller to hide on the chandelier. It wasn't that Deathstroke couldn't climb up; it was just that Schiller was still holding the revolver.
“I know this sounds like an excuse,” Schiller said somewhat helplessly, “but it really isn’t. Don’t you think that guy is quite different from me?”
The death knell, after hacking away wildly, was not appeased but instead became even more enraged. Standing below, he looked up at Schiller and said, "Couldn't you have made up all that nonsense just to mess with me?!"
“That wasn’t made up,” Schiller said. “The theories are all correct, just deconstructed and reassembled. It’s like putting different doctrines together. And it’s not entirely my fault, you insisted on talking to me.”
Deathstroke was about to strike him again, but he suddenly realized a problem: how exactly did Schiller get his information?
In fact, Deathstroke was somewhat inclined to believe it because Schiller had stated his information with remarkable accuracy. While names could perhaps be verified, some things were known only to Schiller himself. For instance, his patricide was something even his father was unaware of, as Schiller had pushed him from behind. Let alone anyone else.
This is information that cannot be obtained through external means, not even mind reading. Deathstroke has encountered super-powered criminals with this ability before, such as Hugo and Lilith of Signs, who had connections with the Teen Titans. But none of them pointed this out. If they had known, they certainly wouldn't have hesitated to use it against him.
Deathstroke's brain is incredibly developed, almost reaching the limits of human potential. He's capable of a great deal, such as encrypting certain memories or designing a mental maze that even Batman couldn't easily navigate in a short time. Otherwise, he wouldn't have so easily provoked Batman's sidekick.
But none of this worked when he was with Schiller. He also didn't detect any signs that he was being mind-read. So how did Schiller know?
And before, he clearly hadn't lifted his mask, so Schiller definitely couldn't see his lip movements. How did he talk to himself then?
“Put your sword down first,” Schiller said, “and then I can introduce myself in a little more detail.”
Curiosity about Schiller outweighed everything else. Deathstroke sheathed his sword and sat down on the sofa with a disgruntled expression. Schiller jumped down, grabbed a can of beer from the refrigerator, and sat down opposite him.
“Dissociative identity disorder,” he said. “That’s the medical term for dissociative identity disorder. I’m not exactly a typical dissociative identity disorder patient, but I do have the characteristics. My different personality traits are good at different things. They’re usually like that.”
"that?"
"I rather hastily divided all my traits into two camps."
Which two factions?
“Me and the others,” Schiller said, opening a beer can, taking a sip, and then adding, “I consider myself normal. Unfortunately, I’m in the minority.”
"What about the others? Can they read minds?"
“Psychoanalysis, actually,” Schiller paused before saying, “is, of course, only when they are in a good state. It’s a common problem that when they’re not in a good state, we end up in a better one. They can see more.”
Then Deathstroke realized that Schiller's earlier statement about "seeing the whole Arab world" wasn't just rambling from motion sickness. He really could see it.
Deathstroke covered his eyes. Compared to this ability, becoming an orca wasn't unacceptable; even a locomotive equipped with missile launchers looked quite handsome.
“I admit this is my revenge,” Schiller said, “but not against you, but against him, because I just messed up all his work, not only breaking the temperature control system in the entire Egyptian Museum, but also stuffing his boss into a mummy’s coffin.”
"What???" Deathstroke asked again, his head filled with question marks.
“It’s like this,” Schiller struggled to organize his thoughts, trying to explain this bizarre situation, “there are two of me in this world. One in front of you, and one in Cairo. Just now our souls switched places. I became him, and he became me.”
Schiller paused for a moment before continuing, "If nothing unexpected happens, it's highly likely—I'm pretty sure of it, and you can't deny it—that all the trouble we're facing right now is probably caused by him."
“I…” Deathstroke was speechless for a moment, then he had to admit the truth, “This is the most fucking weird thing I’ve ever encountered in my life. What the hell are you guys doing?!”
"It's a bit complicated. Have you heard of Zeus?"
Deathstroke's gaze grew increasingly malevolent, so Schiller had no choice but to speak: "Zeus and the Amazon Queen had a daughter named Diana Prince. She joined the Justice League, and the Justice League is facing some trouble. The mural contains the clues they're looking for. I was hired by her to go and find them."
"But another group of people didn't want the Justice League to find the mural, or rather, they didn't want them to get clues so easily. So they took the mural away."
“I know all that,” Deathstroke said. “My question is, why are you dealing with yourself?”
“‘Self-conflict,’” Schiller said. “I’ve said those theories aren’t made up. This kind of thing can really happen. It’s just that most people do it on a mental level. But my self-conflict is a little bigger.”
Schiller held up two fingers, making a "tiny" gesture. Meanwhile, Deathstroke saw the entire universe.