American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 280 Legend has it that in Smallville, there is a place where heroes are tested.

Interstate 70.

It stretches endlessly across the vast central plains.

The sky hung low, and the clouds were thick.

The wind howled, stirring up dust and bits of grass from the roadside.

Above it, a completely black motorcycle was speeding along the line.

The rider is Harvey.

The rider, dressed in black cycling gear, clung tightly to the streamlined body of the motorcycle to reduce wind resistance.

The full-face helmet covered his entire face, with only his eyes behind the visor fixed on the seemingly endless road ahead.

He gripped the handlebars, the roar of the engine the only language he could hear, deafening, as if trying to suppress the vicious voice in his mind.

But the more they did this, the clearer the sound became.
"Hope? Ha! You actually believe in a Gotham 'King'? A guy who understands darkness better than anyone else in Gotham?"

Harvey's Adam's apple bobbed.

Of course he didn't believe it.

Or rather, reason told him he shouldn't believe it.

But in that ward, permeated with the smell of disinfectant.
Dior
That man exuded a dangerous charm.
“Gotham can’t cure you, because it’s a disease in itself. But in Smallwell, there’s a field where, it’s said, the hope that everything can be ‘rebuilt’.”

"That was a trial for heroes!"

“Come on, Prosecutor Dante, flip the coin again for yourself.”

He took a gamble.

Um.
The coin that had been spinning between the two of them eventually stood upright on the table for a full ten seconds, which was quite incredible.

Neither angel nor demon.

The motorcycle accelerated again, and the cold coin in my pocket rattled slightly with the vibrations of the motorcycle, as if urging me on or counting down.

Harvey Dent
This former Knight of Light of Gotham is now, like a desperate pilgrim, offering his final gamble toward the promised land called Smallwell.

Welcome to Smallwell!
The brand new sign reads this.

Next to catch the eye is a huge pumpkin sculpture carved into a smiling face, with a proud signature on the base.

The signature is also included below:

—In memory of the town’s most outstanding man, the King of Pumpkins, Locke Kent.

Harvey, looking down from under his motorcycle helmet, just found it funny.

This ordinary little town actually has the King of Pumpkins!
It's not bad, though.

There is no Gotham's towering forest of Gothic skyscrapers, no neon lights casting dangerous reflections on the wet streets.

Here, there is only the sky.

A vast and boundless sky.

On both sides of the highway, the endless cornfields rippled in the evening breeze.

Occasionally, an old pickup truck will drive by in the opposite lane, and an arm will be seen sticking out of the window to wave to him in a friendly manner.

There were no horns, no curses, and no tense atmosphere of being ready to draw a gun at any moment.

The pace here is as slow as an old country folk song.
Several black and white cows were leisurely swishing their tails inside the enclosure, while a golden retriever chased its own shadow on the porch.

Everything seemed so...normal.

It was so normal that even Harvey, who had been in Gotham for a long time, felt it was somewhat unreal.

There are no shadows to hide in here.

The sunlight shines down on every inch of the land without reservation.

Harvey parked his motorcycle on the side of the road and turned it off.

He didn't take off his helmet, perhaps because he was afraid that his half-face would frighten some farmer.

After all, this is Smallwell.

An ordinary, even somewhat dull, little village.

After hesitating for a moment, he finally followed Dior's mysterious instructions, took off his leather jacket, and carefully draped it over the motorcycle seat.

He stood at the edge of the field and looked up.

This place was indeed, as Dior had said, full of farmland.

And the spot he mentioned was indeed surprisingly easy to find.
The most expansive area within sight.

The corn stalks are arranged closely together, much taller than those in other cornfields, forming an impenetrable golden wall.

The spikes that sprout from their tips gleam with a fuzzy halo in the slanting sunlight, and their broad leaves rub against each other, making a continuous sound.

"Go through it, don't take the main road." I can still vividly recall Dior's nonchalant manner at the time. "This is... a test for beginners."

"Testing you, you bastard."

Harvey almost subconsciously muttered a curse, but his feet still moved uncontrollably, stepping into the golden labyrinth.

The ground beneath your feet is uneven, and your leather shoes will leave clear marks when you step on it.

He had only gone a dozen steps when he looked back and saw that the country road he had come from was completely obscured by layers of corn stalks, leaving only a blurry outline.

The scene was almost identical in every direction: straight corn stalks, intertwined green leaves, and sunlight filtering through the leaves.
"That guy isn't trying to kill me in this cornfield, is he?"

Harvey's lips twitched, and he could only rely on his general sense of direction to move forward with difficulty.

But the further you go in, the dimmer the light becomes.

The tall corn stalks almost completely blocked out the sky, with only a sliver of gradually fading blue visible very high overhead.

The temperature seems to have dropped a bit as well.

A dampness enveloped him.

The surroundings were so quiet that only the sound of his own footsteps and breathing could be heard.

Harvey occasionally had to use his hands to push aside the stubborn branches and leaves blocking his way.

Their movements, which started cautiously, gradually became somewhat irritable.

Sweat seeped from his forehead, sliding down his unaffected cheek, some seeping into the other side.
It causes a slight stinging sensation.

He felt like an intruder, an outsider from the dark city.

But Dio's mocking face resurfaced in his mind, and he could almost picture the guy sitting comfortably in some corner, leisurely waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

"Damn Dio..."

"I'm going to take your million dollars and run off to Hawaii!"

He muttered another curse under his breath, but the sound was less one of anger and more of a venting of his own predicament.

After all, there was still an endless expanse of corn stalks in front of us.
It even made him start to doubt whether he was going in circles.

This feeling of being disoriented and surrounded by the forces of nature made him even more anxious than when facing Gotham's most ruthless criminals.

However, just as he passed through yet another dense foliage...
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the cornfield not far ahead, and the dense stalks began to sway noticeably.

Harvey's heart tightened, and his right hand instinctively reached for his lower back, gripping the sidearm hidden there.

but.
Emerging from behind the layers of green and gold draped in curtains was not the dangerous individual expected, but rather...

A farmer who looks absolutely ordinary?

The blue work shirt, stained with a few mud spots, had its sleeves casually rolled up to the elbows, revealing forearms that were slightly rosy but with well-defined muscle lines.

He casually carried a rather heavy-looking hoe in his hand, as if he had just finished farm work.

Upon seeing him, Harvey felt a sudden tightness in his chest.

A feeling of guilt, like that of a thief, suddenly arose for no apparent reason.

"Are you lost?"

The farmer spoke up, raising his eyebrows slightly as his gaze fell on Harvey's attire, which seemed out of place with his surroundings.

"The main road isn't this way."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Harvey's motorcycle helmet, a hint of teasing in his voice, "Or did you fly in on your motorcycle, buddy?"

"."

Harvey remained silent, his mind racing as he tried to recall Dio's last words.

—"If you meet a farmer on a farm."

— "Remember, no matter what they ask, don't answer. Just keep your head down and keep walking."

Okay... let's try anything, even if it's a long shot.

Harvey pursed his lips, avoiding the farmer's probing gaze.

She turned to the side, trying to walk past him without saying a word.

"Hey! Friend."

The farmer, however, was a step faster and easily grabbed Harvey's upper arm.

An irresistible force came, causing Harvey's forward movement to come to an abrupt halt.

"It's impolite to wander into someone's cornfield without saying a word."

His tone was calm, but the strength in his voice spoke volumes.

"."

He remembered Dior saying how to deal with this situation.

"If you really can't get away, you can say that you are an agent of the IRS who has come to inspect the land use situation when necessary."

"What kind of bullshit idea is this?" Harvey cursed inwardly.

Can.
at this point……

He took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound calm, even with a touch of the bureaucratic tone he was used to as a prosecutor: "I'm from the IRS, here to investigate the land."

"?"

Hearing that familiar official tone
The farmer was clearly stunned, and the grip on his arm loosened slightly involuntarily.

His gaze lingered on Harvin's helmet, which covered his entire face, for a few seconds, as if to confirm whether he had misheard.

These days.
IRS agents visited the farm to investigate...

Do I still need to wear a helmet?

What new safety standard is this?
Taking advantage of the farmer's momentary hesitation, Harvey abruptly pulled his arm back, giving him no time to react. He quickened his pace almost without looking back and swiftly disappeared into the deeper cornfield, his figure quickly swallowed by the swaying leaves.

“...Jonathan!”

Then a slightly different voice came from not far behind the farmer, "What's wrong? I've noticed you haven't moved for a while."

Jonathan then came to his senses.

"Locke."

He was somewhat puzzled.
"These days, is the IRS... having such a tough time too?"

"What are you mumbling about?" Locke asked, stepping closer. "Did someone just come in?"

"Don't let anyone wander into the cornfield. It seems like the gods cast a spell there a few days ago."

"They said they were going to play some kind of hero trial with Salafir."

“Oh, I see…” Jonathan nodded thoughtfully, then said confidently, “That’s alright, Locke. The IRS aren’t people, and they’re not heroes.”

"???"

The further Harvey walked, the stronger that uneasy feeling became.

At first, he just thought it was too quiet, but then he realized...
The wind stopped.

The rustling sound of the wind that was just now, rustling the leaves, has completely disappeared without me noticing.

A suffocating silence descended upon the surroundings.

But the deathly silence was one thing, but in this eerie stillness...
The surrounding corn stalks began to sway gently in a way that defied common sense.

Their leaves, those long, green stripes with sharp edges, began to stretch out from all directions like countless slender, cold hands, intentionally or unintentionally brushing against his arms and back.
It's enough to send chills down your spine.

"What kind of trick is this now, Dior?"

Harvey frowned, muttering under his breath about the guy who had led him here.

He suppressed the chill rising in his heart and quickened his pace.

But this cornfield seemed to have truly come alive.

The once clear path beneath his feet became blurred, and the spacing between the rows seemed to come alive, sometimes suddenly narrowing so much that it almost trapped him in the middle.

My sense of direction completely failed me here, and the surrounding scenery was like a recurring nightmare.

Ok
For Harvey Dent
Intimidation and disorientation at the psychological level are of little use.

He is a man who crawled out of Gotham, a true hell on earth, and experienced even more direct and cruel physical and mental torture.

Fear may exist, but it will never stop him.

He simply gave up on finding his way, ignoring the cold leaves that tried to block and entangle him. He gritted his teeth, and with an almost tyrannical stubbornness, chose a direction and rushed straight ahead.

He used his arms and helmet to push aside the overly enthusiastic corn leaves, each step carrying a reckless and desperate spirit.

And so, relying on this reckless drive, they managed to tear a path through the enchanted corn maze.

The obstacle in front of me suddenly disappeared, and the light suddenly shone through.

He stumbled and burst out of the suffocating cornfield, his feet landing on a completely different piece of land.

It appears to be a relatively open apple orchard.
Rows of neatly trimmed apple trees are arranged in an orderly fashion, with green and red fruits hanging from the branches, and the air is filled with a sweet fruity fragrance.

Compared to that eerie and oppressive cornfield just now.
This place is even a little... too beautiful.

Harvey's mouth was parched from the long, strenuous trek.

And the fruit, so close at hand, exudes an irresistible allure.

It made him almost involuntarily reach for the one closest to him.

He could almost picture the sweet juice bursting from the fruit.

But at the very moment they were about to touch
His movements suddenly froze.

He saw
Reflected on the apple.
It was his own face.

That face was clearly divided in two.

Half of him was once handsome enough to make the whole of Gotham take notice, but the other half was covered in hideous scars.

This extreme imperfection
And so it was perfectly imprisoned within this fruit.

He recoiled as if burned.

Dior
That bastard!

Are you mocking me?!
He didn't look at any of the apples again, as if they were some forbidden thing stained with poison.

The sweet aroma still enveloped Harvey, but it could no longer sway him in the slightest.

However, as he walked through the perfect apple orchard with a blank expression, the sight before him almost made him laugh out loud in anger.

A lake was shrouded in a thick, impenetrable white fog.

This path blocked his way, obscuring not only the opposite bank but also making it difficult to see the lake itself.

"That's really impressive, Your Majesty."

"First a maze, then temptation, and now... you want me to swim?"

He gritted his teeth:
"Is this some kind of trial from a third-rate heroic epic? It's all interconnected."

"The Iceberg King's three trials, is that it?!"

I just kept thinking about everything that had just happened.
These illogical events, though exhausting and infuriating, subtly confirmed the incomprehensible aspects of Dior's words.

This place is indeed extraordinary.

So, following the pattern of those ancient legends...

"...Maybe there really is something in the middle of the lake?"

A fairy in the lake?

A magic potion that can heal all wounds?

Or some other supernatural being?
Although the idea itself was ridiculous, after he went through all of this, it no longer seemed entirely impossible.

A glimmer of hope ignited in his heart.

To find that... face that completely belonged to Harvey Dent.

Since that was the case, he didn't hesitate any longer. He casually took off his motorcycle helmet, took off his dark shirt covered in mud, and threw it on the damp grass on the shore.

The cool night air enveloped his scarred half-body.

It gave me goosebumps.

The lake water in November was colder than he had imagined, like melted ice and snow.
Harvey gritted his teeth and continued walking deeper into the mist without stopping.

The lake water enveloped our view and swallowed up all sound.

Visibility was almost zero; the pure milky white obscured everything, and even the outline of my own waving arm was barely visible.

Harvey could only rely on his most primal sense of direction and an unyielding determination to never admit defeat.

He swam forward with all his might.

The lake water greedily absorbed his body heat, making his limbs feel heavy and numb.

And there seems to be something underwater as well.

It is neither a plant nor a fish.

Instead, it was some kind of cold, slippery, and subtly resilient strip.
Occasionally, she would brush against his calves or intentionally or unintentionally wrap her arms around his ankles, a touch that sent chills down his spine.

But Harvey just tensed his muscles and then ignored it.

In Gotham, he had slithered through the sewage ditches of chemical plants and fought in rivers filled with rotting garbage. Compared to those experiences, this unknown touch was almost a mild disturbance.

I'm a Gothamite!

And
At this moment, he was using almost all his mental energy to curse someone repeatedly in his mind.
The culprit who put him in this situation
He started cursing from his damnably shiny blond hair.
They criticized his outrageously good-looking custom-made suit.
Then, when you scold him, you see that elegant posture on his face, as if everything in the world is a stage.

Harvey even began to meticulously plan in his mind.
If, just if
Dio miraculously healed his face, and the first thing he did after recovering was...
This is definitely not a thank you!

Instead, I will use my own intact fist!
A right fist brimming with all the anger and humiliation!
It hit that handsome face squarely!

He could almost imagine the pleasurable sensation of a fist striking flesh!

"Hahaha, glug glug glug—!"

Harvey, who was laughing halfway through, was given a harsh lesson by the lake.

Fortunately, this violent fantasy became the only fuel that kept him going in the icy lake.

This allows his fingers to extend forward again.
Instead of hitting the expected lake water, it crashed violently into a slope.

It's land!
It's the lake shore!
This allowed Harvey's almost stiff body to unleash its last bit of strength.

He crawled forward a few steps, using both his hands and feet, looking utterly pathetic.

Half of his body was freed from the icy lake water, and he collapsed heavily onto the damp lake shore, panting heavily.

He struggled to prop himself up with trembling arms and looked around.

It was not the sacred, flower-filled island where fairies lived, as he had imagined.

The thick fog still enveloped the surroundings, completely isolating this place from the outside world. Only a relatively flat grassland could be vaguely seen at the foot of the ground.

What's even more striking are the oddly shaped, bluish-gray spheres scattered haphazardly across the grass, about the size of stones.

They were scattered haphazardly, like eggs left behind by some unknown creature, or perhaps...

Harvey frowned, his intense thirst for knowledge making him temporarily forget the cold.

He struggled to crawl toward the nearest cyan sphere and got closer.

Contrary to expectations, there was no putrid or unpleasant odor; instead, an indescribable fragrance wafted into my nostrils.

The scent wasn't strong; it even carried an alluring quality, like the essence of life.

It revitalized his senses, which had been dulled by the cold and fatigue.
A sudden, intense hunger, almost burning from his stomach, gripped him.

What made his heart pound even harder was...
Just inhaling this air caused the muscles on his left cheek, which had long been numb, to...
Beneath that dead flesh-like scar
The muscles started twitching uncontrollably!

A sensation mixed with stinging and tingling awakened on the disfigured side of his face.

Could it be that……

A crazy idea struck him!

Is this the hope that Dior spoke of?

This blue sphere of unknown origin—is it the thing that can rebuild his face?!

Harvey's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and a swallowing sound came from his dry throat.

He looked at the sphere that emitted an enticing fragrance, a flicker of struggle crossing his eyes.
But he was quickly overwhelmed by the sensation coming from his face and the deep longing for normalcy deep inside.

In this case…

And he also...

"唳——!!!"

A sharp cry filled with both majesty and anger!

The resulting sound waves transformed into an impact that completely dispelled the thick fog that shrouded the island!

The scorching sunlight, unobstructed and without warning, poured down and slammed into Harvey, making it almost impossible for him to open his eyes.

He instinctively raised his arm to shield his eyes.

then
He saw it through his fingers.
A mythical creature exuding an ancient aura stood atop a rock not far in front of him.
It has an eagle-like head.
His body was as robust as a lion's.

The sunlight outlined a dazzling silhouette on its magnificent feathers.

Sacred and inviolable!
这 是
A griffin?!
Why the hell would there be a live griffin in this remote little village?! This is even more terrifying than discovering that Arkham Asylum is full of normal people!

Harvey's hand, which was reaching for the blue sphere, froze in mid-air, caught in a dilemma.

Because those burning golden eyes were staring intently at him and his hand, which was almost touching the sphere.

The air freezes.

The heart is beating in the chest cavity.

Is this... my final trial?
Want to be reborn
We must defeat this mythical creature that guards the sacred object?
Harvey stood frozen in place.
Standing on the dividing line between sunlight and shadow, on the edge of hope and destruction.

(End of this chapter)