Chapter 87: Our tryst in a dream (Ch 831412006)

As the door closed, Batman left.
Lucien leaned back on the sofa, his eyes half closed, as if he was thinking about something, or as if he was just about to fall asleep in this strange posture.
The purple veins on the skinny neck were clearly visible, and the fingertips that usually held a cigarette were half open in the air, feeling empty.
…
Why is the dark multiverse so ridiculously fragile?
Why can’t Batman kill people?
Even in the dark multiverse, Batman’s will should actually be extremely firm before a certain abnormal node.
…
Lucien swore that when he heard the words “Meat Crusher” and “Iron Maiden”, he really saw the shadow of the Joker in Batman.
Of course, he was not afraid of the so-called clowns. What terrified him was the hallucination-like creatures from the other world, with crazy smiles and sharp teeth shadows.
What he saw in that instant was not the Joker.
…is the laughing egg sheath.
————
The red circle hung in the distance, it was the setting sun. In front of me was a sparkling sea, illuminated by the sun, like magma.
There is a bench by the sea, made of wood, rotten, and even the cracks reveal its age.
There is a person sitting on the chair.
He took off the hat with a blue peacock feather stuck in it, turned his head, looked at the figure behind him with his crystal green eyes, and laughed from his throat:
“It’s been a long time, my dear, lovely, poor, my… Mr. Murderer.”
Lucian listened to this in surprise, looked up and saw this scene that was not like the human world, then he understood: “So, this is a dream?”
“Dream, hallucination, or a crack in space, who can tell? Of course, if you think this is a dream… then this is our first real dream rendezvous.” With a smile on his face covered in bright oil paint, he said:
“My love, please sit here.”
Lucien walked over, his feet stepping on the warm and soft sand, as if he was sinking… until he walked over and sat on the old wooden chair.
The wooden chair made a trembling sound.
He saw a profile that he would never forget – the clown.
“…Aren’t you in time stop?”
“Stop.” The clown said, “Don’t discuss this. When I stand in front of you now, you should know that it is useless to think about this.”
“You wouldn’t have asked these questions before… Is it because you think you are at peace and safe now, so you relax and slack off?”
…
Lucian’s gaze shifted to the bright sunset in the distance. He was silent for a long time: “…I really don’t understand why I have to experience all this? I should be like most people, thinking about eating, sleeping, working, and family every day…I should be obsessed with money, power, and beauty.”
“Instead of going to the so-called dark multiverse as a useless time traveler, playing the role of a crazy laughing psychopath, and training a warrior who is born to be a hero…”
“Why do I have to do this? And then experience pain? Despair? Danger? … I am not obsessed with this, what I am obsessed with is tobacco, alcohol, sex and even marijuana.”
He seemed like an old man in his eighties, muttering about the regrets and confusions of his half-life.
The person sitting next to him, who should have been the listener, sneered: “Are you confused about this? Confused boy, what is there to be confused about?”
“I’ve been chasing cars all my life and I don’t even know why I’m chasing them.”
The peacock feather was blown onto the finger by the sudden warm wind. The old man who had been complaining was suddenly stunned. Lucian looked at the clown… He had never observed him like this before. His eyes licked his skin inch by inch, and then he used his hands to touch him meticulously as if a blind man.
The Joker didn’t refuse, his eyes were distant and nostalgic, he leaned in close, and touched his lips to Lucien’s forehead.
“I know what you are trying to confirm.” A gentle voice came: “Yes, you are right.”
…
From the very beginning, Lucien couldn’t see the clown’s face clearly.
…
“I told you that you are my past.” The clown said tenderly, as if he was treating his lover: “You will always be confused, chasing cars and being dragged by chains… You will never know your goal, and you will not be happy for a long time.”
“You will always be a dog… growing from your current immaturity to an old dog like me… you will always be like this, always being pushed around by the so-called plot and the so-called goal.”
“Even though you just want to be a person who lives an ordinary life before the world is destroyed.”
…
The rhythmic sound of waves lapping on the beach is safe, healing, and sleep-inducing, like the song of a siren.
Lucien looked at him and suddenly smiled: “Okay, okay, my old dog… my future, thank you, thank you for telling me how bad my life will be.”
“But this is not what I need now… What you should tell me is, what should I do?”
“But I didn’t come to see you to talk about such boring things.”
“If you want to continue discussing life with me, then please solve my latest crisis first… or tell me the source of this weirdness.”
“This is meaningless.” The Joker was puzzled: “Do you think I’m an NPC in a puzzle game where you can see the clues in a 60-second commercial?”
Lucian shrugged. “But my adventure game resurrection didn’t even require sixty seconds of watching an ad.”
He was referring to his own infinite resurrection.
“…But I can’t tell you directly, this is the rule.”
“Since when do clowns start following the rules?”
“It’s different.” The orange light from the setting sun hit the clown’s face: “My coming to see you is an answer, a hint… or a puzzle.”
“Don’t think about useless things. What you should learn is how to knit the wool that has been torn into a ball by the cat.”
“But I don’t have the instructions right now.”
“You can grope.”
“I don’t have a crochet hook either.”
“You can use your fingers instead.”
“I’m color blind and can’t tell the difference.”
“Colorful fabrics are more beautiful.”
“So what can you help me with?”
“A place… a quiet place where no one can disturb you.”
“Are you on the premises?”
“Sometimes, maybe.”
…
Lucian sat on the bench, looking at the sunset in the distance. There was no one beside him, only the man in the peacock feather hat was sitting quietly.
It was as if he was the only one here, and the so-called clown was just a phantom he imagined and accompanied him.
…
Clown, clown.
He thought.