American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 281 By the God of Corn! I wish for peace in Gotham!
Harvey stood frozen in place.

The griffin's eyes, forged from molten gold, were fixed coldly on him, its massive body casting a suffocating shadow in the sudden sunlight.

The cry was still ringing in his ears.

That was a warning from the predators.

He had no doubt that if his fingers moved even an inch further forward, those claws, sharp enough to tear steel apart, would instantly rip him to shreds.

After all, the oppressive aura emanating from this griffin was like the blazing sun.
etc.
At the critical moment.

Harvey noticed.
On the griffin's back, covered with shimmering feathers, it seemed that there was not nothing at all.
There... there is a ball of light.

A soft yet undeniable light.

It wasn't dazzling; it seemed to be woven from the purest sunlight, outlining a blurry human silhouette.

The halo shifted.

It dispelled some of the chill that Harvey felt because of the griffin, bringing a sense of almost sacred peace.

"Mortal, what is your name?"

That ball of light...

It spoke?!
Her voice was ethereal, carrying a kind of innocent curiosity.

"I am Harvey Dent, and I have come seeking medicine!"

Under the immense impact, he shouted those words almost instinctively.

Asking for medicine?

What kind of medicine do you need?

The ball of light, or rather, the Salafil beneath it, was utterly perplexed.

Is this the trial participant that Dio mentioned, specially sent to participate in the 'Hero Trial' set up by himself and the gods?
He looked curiously at the man in front of him whose face looked somewhat frightening on one side, and unconsciously scratched his head.

She was able to navigate the corn maze of the capital city on her own, resist the temptation of the apples she had set up, and even swim across the Guardian Lake to get here...

Um.
He's just a bit ugly.
In addition, his hobbies are somewhat strange.

The way she just looked, she clearly wanted to reach out and eat Zeus's fertilizer...

Salafir certainly recognized those blue spheres.

That was the excrement of the griffins Zeus and Hera.

Because they feed on crops on farms that contain special life energy, and because they are mythical creatures, their excrement is indeed rich in vitality...

Occasionally, Dad would collect them and use them as special fertilizer.

But... eat it directly? That's too...

Are you hungry? Salafil wondered.
But that doesn't make sense... Wasn't there a large cornfield on the way here?

Although the gods have cast a little illusion on those corn cobs, they should be enough to fill our stomachs.

If this guy is hungry, can't he just break off a few ears of corn and nibble on them?

really
An even more unbelievable thought popped into Salafir's head, causing a look of disgust to appear on his little face.

This is a person with special hobbies.
Salafir shuddered and decided to put aside the strange man's recipe for the time being.

"Cough cough."

He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound more authoritative.

Then she waved her little hand.

With a slight thought, the gentle holy light flowing around him suddenly rose up as if summoned by an invisible force, rapidly spreading into the sky and transforming into a dazzling yet not blindingly beautiful light curtain.

The sky above them was blocked out, filtering the sunlight into a pure golden waterfall that poured down on Harvey.

This miracle was completely beyond Harvey's comprehension.
His knees buckled, and the exhaustion he had felt earlier surged up like a tide.

He found himself involuntarily kneeling on one knee on the damp grass.

He tilted his head back, straining to see through the sacred light to the blurry yet sublime figure within it, his voice trembling violently: "You...you are which deity..."

"I"

Salafell was taken aback by the sudden question, forgetting half of her prepared lines, "Uh... I... am that..."

"?"

Harvey looked up, trying to see the true form beneath the ball of light, a sense of unease creeping into his mind.
This deity... why does he stutter a little?
Is this the common pantheon in Smallville?
It was far from the majestic and solemn image of the deity he had imagined.

Is this considered down-to-earth?
"Wow—!"

Perhaps sensing the probing and disrespect in Harvey's gaze, Zeus the Griffin raised his head impatiently and let out a short cry.

The sound waves seemed to materialize into a tangible impact, forcefully suppressing Harvey to the ground.

"Zeus! Don't be so fierce!"

Salafir patted the griffin's neck, his tone slightly reproachful, as if he were scolding a disobedient dog.

Zeus...?!

Harvey felt a tingling sensation on his scalp, and his brain almost stopped working.

He glanced at the majestic griffin out of the corner of his eye, utterly incredulous.

Zeus?!
What kind of god is that ball of light?!
His mount... was named Zeus?!
His knowledge of mythology churned in his mind.
The king of the gods in Greek mythology liked to transform into swans and bulls.
But damn it, I've never heard of Zeus liking to transform into a griffin!
Could it be that there's a local Zeus version in Griffin form in Smallwell?!
This is even more incomprehensible than the neurotic Black Mask in Gotham.

Ignoring the turmoil churning within Harvey, Salafir took a deep breath, remembered the role she was supposed to play, and solemnly declared:
"I"

"I am the God of Corn!"

"???"

Three concrete question marks seemed to appear above Harvey's head.

However, I quickly came to terms with it.
Gods, after all, always have some quirks and unfathomable incarnations that mortals cannot understand.

This must be a supreme deity, manifesting in the world here as a symbol of abundance, namely corn.

And he soon heard the corn god within the ball of light proclaim:
“Mortal Harvey Dent, you have come here after many trials. As a reward, speak your wish.”

A tremendous joy gripped Harvey's heart.

He almost blurted out the longing buried deep in his heart.
But the words were on the tip of her tongue.
Harvey swallowed his words back, his throat bobbing.

"...I want world peace..."

The ball of light paused for a moment, then delivered a crisp and decisive refusal: "No, next..."

Harvey froze, looking up in confusion: "Why?"

"The organizer reserves the right of interpretation."

The voice was self-righteous.

"..."

Harvey had no choice but to compromise, "Then... how about peace in Gotham?"

That should be enough, right? After all, Gotham is just a city.

The voice from within the ball of light seemed to carry a hint of impatience:

"Say it again, what was your last wish?"

"World peace..."

"No, next one..."

Harvey was completely speechless.

He seriously suspected that Dior, that bastard, had conspired with this capricious corn god beforehand.

Seeing this, Harvey could only say sincerely:

"...Please restore my face to normal, great god of corn."

"Your wish is granted, mortal..."

The Corn God in the ball of light seemed satisfied, and casually waved his little hand.

Before Harvey could even feel joy, his vision suddenly blurred.

An unprecedented feeling of weightlessness washed over him; he felt his consciousness rising, floating lightly.
It was as if he had become a lost soul with nowhere to belong.

In the final moments before his consciousness faded, he vaguely heard that ethereal voice casually giving commands to the griffin named Zeus:

"Zeus, take our hero out for a spin... I've already sent his soul out of his body..."

Out-of-body experience? !
Harvey suddenly opened his eyes.

The violent coughing made his entire chest cavity tremble.

My consciousness is heavy and dull.

He found himself lying on his back on the edge of a field.

Half of his body was still submerged in the wet mud.

A cool evening breeze blew by, sending a shiver down my spine as I stood up.

The entire upper body!

He subconsciously raised his hand and touched his face.

The skin felt warm to the touch.
It possesses the elasticity of a living person.

He was almost trembling.
He traced the outline of his left cheek with his fingertips.

It wasn't as uneven as I had expected.
No scar tissue
What you can touch is a complete piece of skin.
He sat up abruptly, ignoring the aches and mud all over his body. He put both hands on his cheeks at the same time.

The feel of both sides... is actually the same?

He struggled to crawl to a shallow puddle on the edge of the field.

His blurry figure was reflected in the murky water.

But he eagerly bent down, disregarding his image, and leaned closer, trying to see the reflection in the water clearly.

The water rippled, distorting the image, but the faint outline remained...

That face...

Although covered in mud and looking disheveled, it was no longer the monstrous, two-faced figure I remembered.

Smooth and complete.
It was as if the terrible explosion and the subsequent torment were just a long and cruel nightmare.

But after that overwhelming ecstasy came a deeper sense of bewilderment and disbelief.

That's... cured?

It was casually waved by the ball of light that claimed to be the God of Corn.
The face will be fine?

He looked down at his mud-covered hands, then touched his perfectly healed cheeks, a feeling of unreality washing over him.

This method of healing is too frivolous, too illogical, and even carries a sense of nonchalance.
But the long-lost touch on his face told him with absolute certainty.
This is not an illusion.

He sat on the edge of the field, gazing at the silent cornfield in the twilight.

The outline of the farm can be vaguely seen in the distance.

Until an unknown amount of time had passed
He stood up somewhat bewildered and walked back towards the town along the ridges of the fields, his steps uneven.

As I stepped onto the town's solid asphalt road, I gradually heard voices around me.

A few students in school uniforms walked past him, laughing and joking. Several girls noticed him, their gazes lingering on his face for a moment. One of the bolder girls even went up to him and asked if he needed help, or...

Can we get to know each other?
Harvey almost reflexively turned his head away to show his undamaged side, but then realized that he no longer needed to hide himself.

He smiled and, with a gentleness he himself hadn't felt in a long time, politely declined their offer.

Just to stroll along slowly, his eyes scanning the street, searching for his black motorcycle.

The evening breeze is like a mother's hand.
A gentle touch swept across his unharmed cheek, bringing a strange sense of freedom.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

A young couple noticed his slightly disheveled appearance and took the initiative to come forward.

The man was tall and handsome, and the woman was bright and beautiful.

Their eyes were filled with genuine concern.

It's as if the most beautiful souls are nurtured in this sun-loved town.

Harvey looked at them and smiled.

Although the smile was somewhat stiff from not having been relaxed for a long time, it no longer had the ferocity and distortion of the past.

Thank you. I'm... fine now.

He nodded politely and walked past them.

Behind them, they could hear the couple talking in hushed tones.

"Clark... what's wrong with that man? He seems strange."

"It looks like he fell off his motorcycle. When Dior and I were kids learning to ride motorcycles, we often fell and got covered in mud."

Then came a burst of light and good-natured laughter.

In the past, this would have happened in hospitals.
It would prick his heart like a needle, hurting his sensitive and insecure nerves.

But at this moment.
Harvey listened to the laughter, but he didn't find it jarring. Instead, he felt a sense of detachment, as if he were in another world.

He moved on.

A blinding flash went off, seemingly capturing him in a photograph.

"Pitt, stop filming! That's so rude!"

"Chloe...didn't you say that if you want to become a journalist, you have to seize every opportunity...a handsome guy running naked in town, isn't that pretty great?"

"You bastard! This is an invasion of privacy... Excuse me, sir, my friend... he seems to be having some mental lapses lately."

reporter?
Harvey smiled silently, waved to the two arguing young men to indicate that he didn't care, and didn't stop walking.

Hey! Young man!

An old shepherd was driving a small flock of sheep past.

The old man called out to him and casually pulled out an old wool blanket.

"It's getting cold, and you look like a lost lamb."

Harvey caught the warm blanket and naturally wrapped it around his shoulders.

He shook his head, and the smile on his face became more genuine.

"No... sir, I'm not like that anymore."

He walked slowly forward, feeling the tranquility of the town at dusk and the kindness of strangers, as if he were relearning how to be a normal person.

Until his gaze pierced through the sparse figures and landed on something not far ahead—

The golden figure stood there, leaning against his motorcycle.

It was as if they had been waiting there for a long time.

Wrapped in the old wool blanket that smelled of mutton, Harvey slowly walked up to Dior.

He wore a gentle and calm smile.

He walked up to Dio, very close.

So close that I can see myself reflected in the other person's pupils.

But then
The gentle smile on Harvey's face vanished instantly, and he suddenly swung the weapon at Dio's handsome face!

Keng!
A crisp metallic collision sound was heard.

Harvey's fist was less than an inch from Dio's nose.

It was blocked.

Harvey gasped, shook his throbbing hand, and glared at Dio with a hint of frustration in his voice: "Can't you just give in a little?"

"Is this how you treat your benefactor?"

Dior sneered, and the arm of "The World" silently vanished into thin air.

“Harvey Dent, do you even know what ‘gratitude’ means?”

"...Tsk..."

Harvey pursed his lips and looked away, gazing at the farm in the distance.

"That corn god is you..."

"never mind…"

He eventually shut his mouth and shook his head.

Dior shrugged indifferently, as if he had already anticipated his reaction.

“Alright, now that you’ve got your ‘reward’,” he glanced meaningfully at Harvey’s unharmed left cheek, his tone turning cold and businesslike, “now it’s time for you to fulfill our bet, Mr. Dante.”

"..."

Harvey paused for a moment, then refocused his gaze on Dio.

He stared at the black hole before him, constantly emitting gravitational pull.
The man who dragged him out of the darkness of Gotham.
Now reborn, the Knight of Light has a renewed sharpness on his face.

"Gotham's legal system..."

He spoke slowly, "It really is time for a thorough purge, from top to bottom, inside and out."

"Me and Gordon, let's build a new order together, Dio."

"I don't have time to chant slogans with you."

"Have you decided on your codename yet?" Dio asked casually, as if assigning a routine task. "My new employee, Harvey Dent?"

“Employees?” Harvey raised an eyebrow, then shrugged indifferently. “You’re the boss, you decide.”

"Then..."

Dior drew out his words, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.

"If you're going to say something like 'Two-Face,' 'half angel, half demon,' 'half-blood knight,' or 'Two-Faced Knight,'..."

Harvey gritted his teeth, "Then I'll definitely bring some men to block the entrance of the Iceberg Club in a few days and not let any scumbag in to spend money. I promise."

Dior snorted coldly.

They seemed completely unconcerned about Harvey's threat, but also seemed to have given up on these obviously wicked options.

"Then... 'The Black Knight'."

He concluded, as if reciting a predetermined fate.

"I hope that even in an order destined for darkness, you can uphold your own..."

"A laughable yet precious chivalric creed, Mr. Dante."

(End of this chapter)