Chapter 4Ba

Chapter 4Ba

【Warning! Anchor item “Tear of the Ventriloquist’s Persona Destruction” detected】

【Searching for a Batman target for this anchor item】

【Warning! No valid Batman target found for the item】

【Attempting to randomly match a weak, low-level Batman... Success】

【Matched: Batmobeast 】

【Danger Level: F】

【Synchronizing... Success】

【You currently hold Crisis Energy: 0】

【Warning! This Batman originates from the Dark Multiverse, and his mind is twisted and malevolent. He may damage Batman’s morality and sanity!】

Cells... were boiling—screaming in ecstatic agony!

Lucen let out a strangled howl as pain surged through every nerve, his throat tearing with the sound. His genes collapsed like a line of dominoes, and intangible, illusory particles twisted and merged with the entity called Reality across his body, transforming into one another’s truth, manifesting anomalies that no human language could possibly describe.

【File “Memories of the Batmobeast ” synchronized】

【You may synchronize other...】

【@#$^&%!$#!……No additional anchor items detected. Crisis Energy is 0. Synchronization with other Batmen not supported at this time】

【…In the parallel universe where the Batmobeast existed, Batman had embedded a part of himself into every piece of technology that controlled the world…

…He became a part of people’s lives, providing the flock with comfort and safety…

…But the flock rebelled. They no longer wanted peaceful lives. These fools only craved freedom—and all the flaws that came with it…

I was erased from this planet by the system. My electronic technologies and my physical persona were both destroyed…

…I had no choice but to upload my consciousness into this massive vehicle…】

No!!!

I’m not the Batmobeast! I’m not even Batman. I am Lucen Kelith!

Lucen snapped out of it after just half a second. The chaotic flood of memories slammed into his brain, making his temples throb sharply.

Wait.

Temples?

What a joke. There weren’t any temples. Lucen looked down and saw wheels in place of his arms, spinning idly on the ground.

Crash!

The sound of shattering glass—Lucen tried to turn his head, but there was no head to turn. In the rear-view mirror, he saw his enlarged body squeeze the glass doors of the next room into shards.

What the hell… I turned into an off-road vehicle?

???

“Mmgh…”

The massive torrent of memories kept pouring into Lucen’s mind—this was the Batmobeast's entire life. Love, hatred, bonds, vengeance… all the bitterness and sorrow. A violent emotion surged up uncontrollably in his chest, and he suddenly wanted to burn Gotham to the ground.

He looked at the Ventriloquist, and an urge for slaughter and destruction flooded in—a sudden desire to bathe in the man’s blood.

If this were an online game, Lucen figured a constant stream of Morality -1, -1, -1… would be floating above his head.

“...”

“This must be a side effect of the memory transfer. Full mental contamination. A collapse in moral framework. But it doesn't match any standard I use. Killing the Ventriloquist would serve no purpose right now. That's the only reason he's still alive.”

The urge to kill had surfaced and vanished. It wasn’t suppressed or resisted. It simply wasn’t relevant under current conditions. The emotional weight of the impulse was negligible, so the decision was straightforward.

“Batman’s refusal to kill is presented as a moral strength. But if the outcome of that rule is greater harm to the public, then the principle itself becomes the problem.”

Lucen viewed morality as a matter of outcome, not intention. If allowing a repeat offender to live results in more deaths, then maintaining the rule is functionally equivalent to permitting those deaths. Choosing not to act is still a choice with consequences.

“A principle that produces more suffering isn’t moral. It’s just self-preservation in disguise. Batman doesn't kill not because it's better for others, but because it protects his self-image. He avoids crossing the line because crossing it would change how he sees himself.”

That reasoning had no utility. Lucen made decisions based on results. If eliminating a violent offender led to long-term stability, then that action became justifiable.

“Keeping the Ventriloquist alive makes sense only because he’s controllable, and he can be used. The moment that changes, his continued existence becomes a liability. And liabilities should be removed.”

There was no hesitation in that logic. The same analysis applied to every threat. There was no difference between action and inaction—both had consequences, and both could be measured.

Lucen’s conclusion was simple: if the goal is to reduce harm, then refusal to eliminate known threats is not moral restraint—it is moral avoidance, carried out to preserve the image of one's own morality.

That was why the memories had no influence. They originated from a moral framework that he had already dismissed.

Of course, that was only because the Batmobeast was so weak—its negative emotions were minimal—and because he simply couldn’t relate.

If it had been one of the stronger, more dangerous evil Batmen, would the outcome have been different?

That remained unknown for now. Lucen quickly shifted his focus to another issue.

“Can I turn back to how I was before?”

The moment he had that thought, half his body dissolved into dark red motes of light, then rapidly reformed into flesh. The memories that had been playing nonstop in his mind abruptly halted.

Whether it had been a long time, or just an instant… everything was back to normal, as if nothing had happened at all.

Lucen rubbed his palm to check—he had returned to his original form as a normal Batman. Not even a thread of his clothes had been torn.

With a single thought, his left hand transformed with a whoosh into a spinning off-road tire, then turned back the next second.

“So as long as I want to, I can fully transform into that Batmobeast at any time…”

But ultimately—what use is a superpower that turns you into a giant off-road vehicle that screams, “Listen to me— or I’ll kill you.” all the time?

As for that so-called Alfred Protocol... forget it. His original plan still sounded more reliable.

Lucen Kelith shook his head. He had never been the type to entrust the success or failure of a mission to unknown variables.

He turned his eyes back to the Ventriloquist. Fortunately, when he subdued him earlier, he had already driven the hostages out. Now, the Ventriloquist was the only witness who had seen him transform into a vehicle.

The balding, middle-aged man stared back at him with wide, blinking eyes, while the bat puppet on his hand kept shouting things like, “That’s right! That’s exactly what a good dog should do!” offering encouragement.

“You are not to tell anyone what you just saw.”

“Woof!”

“Speak like a human!”

“Alright.”

Setting those details aside, so far, his original plan was progressing smoothly. The snowball was already rolling, and with the Ventriloquist in hand, he could finally retreat into the shadows and manipulate him to recruit more villains.

He could also use the Ventriloquist’s identity and tap into Batman’s bottomless wallet to hire some international mercenaries. When the time came, the combined forces of the villain legion and the mercenary army would charge in without a shred of honor, even if Bane had three heads and six arms, he would be beaten into a flat pancake.

There was no such thing as personally joining the battle.

Even if he had to jump off Wayne Tower and die outside, he absolutely wouldn’t—

In the end, he was a transmigrator.

Sure, he liked Batman comics, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be Batman in real life.

What kind of person gives up a massive fortune just to roam the streets at night like a giant bat, venting his emotional trauma?

He even encouraged teenagers to wear brightly colored costumes without pants and fight murderers and lunatics.

Admit it—Bruce Wayne had lost his mind a long time ago.

But he, Lucen, was different. He wasn’t insane in the slightest. He was a normal person.

All he wanted right now was to eliminate that reaper who knew Bruce’s real identity—Bane—retire in peace, and then spend every remaining ounce of energy indulging in debauchery with Gotham’s socialites.

Yes, this was the life he wanted!

Wasn’t his last life spent crawling through the muck of Hollywood just to live like this?

As for Gotham’s future...

He had it all figured out. Did people really think the Kryptonian with a body of steel and that 5,000-year-old demigoddess princess from Themyscira were just going to sit around and do nothing?

The only reason Gotham was like this was beacuse Batman was too prideful to ask either of them for help.

Granted, since arriving here, Lucen hadn’t found Clark Kent at the Daily Planet in Metropolis, nor had he found the antique expert Diana Prince in Boston.

But the Daily Planet already had Lois Lane, and judging from the timeline, those two would be making their big entrance soon. So all he had to do now was take care of Bane, and as long as he stayed alive until the two powerhouses appeared, his blissful billionaire life would be within reach.

As for those looming cosmic crises... worst case, he’d be the spoiler guy.

With so many superhumans and demigods in the Justice League, would they really end up losing, needing a plain old mortal like him to step in?

Lucen Kelith’s heart brimmed with hope for a comfortable future.

But for now, the priority was defeating Bane.

More specifically, the Ventriloquist needed to make a call—to find some cannon fodder… Cough no, mercenaries.