Good, Bruce could already ascertain that this place was definitely strange. If Aunt Cain might be pretending to be ignorant, then the silly girl in front of him should not have the acting skills to pull that off. They truly didn't know what coffee was.
Bruce chatted with Patricia for a while longer and discovered that her symptoms were identical to Aunt Cain's: unaware of hospitals, unaware of tea and coffee, unaware of modern devices like TVs, computers, or even magazines. All her concepts of books came from religious texts; aside from "religion-friendly" activities, she knew nothing else.
The so-called "religion-friendly" activities included cooking, eating, tidying up the house, grooming, and chatting with family and friends. Generally, only extremely conservative religions would bring up this concept.
The requirements for these activities were very strict: during them, you couldn't drink alcohol, eat greasy foods, or use modern electronic devices like phones, computers, or even watch television.
The topics of conversation were also strictly regulated; you could only discuss religious matters, praise God and believers, commend family life, and express mutual care for each other, with hardly anything else to say.
It might sound reasonable, but in reality, it was absurd. Such strictly controlled socializing is not socializing; it's a form of performance. No one can satisfy their social desires through this interaction; it's merely following the herd mentality, conforming to the crowd.
This girl named Patricia was the same. Logically, being young and beautiful, she should be the star of the school, with many admirers. Such people are often confident and outgoing. But with Patricia, it was completely different.
She seemed somewhat timid, excessively gentle, to the point of appearing foolish. Though not every pretty girl is necessarily a social adept, Bruce just felt that Patricia was peculiar.
Then Bruce heard shocking news: Patricia was not only married but already had a two-year-old son. When Bruce heard this, his mind went buzzing because he had deeply researched how to judge age through a person's physique — Patricia was definitely not older than 15.
Previously, he had judged the girl to possibly be fifteen or sixteen because her physique was slightly fuller than that of a normal 15-year-old girl. This led Bruce to misjudge her development, and now it seemed this fullness was likely due to childbirth.
In some states in America, child marriage is not only legal but also common, but it doesn't refer to children this young. What's the situation where a 15-year-old has a two-year-old child?
Bruce asked to see the child, and Patricia actually took him there. Despairingly, from the facial bone structure, it could be seen that this child was indeed Patricia's biological child.
Yet the girl looked happy, holding the child lovingly. Bruce took a deep breath; the world he lived in was already enough of a mess, and he hadn't anticipated that even Gotham's baseline could potentially still lower further. At least in Gotham, child marriage is illegal, and medical records of child pregnancy are directly uploaded to Brother Eye, prompting either Gordon or Batman to take strong action.
Bruce struggled to convince himself that this world was fake and not to get angry about it. Yet he knew all too well in some corner of the real world, perhaps even many corners, such situations did indeed occur.
Thinking of this, Bruce grew even angrier and exerted all his effort to suppress his rage.
At this moment, Aunt Cain came in, her face full of kindness as she praised, "Lily is a good mother. She handled childbirth well, and the elders are all praising her. The child is growing strong, and soon she'll meet her brother."
Bruce instinctively glanced at Patricia's belly, and couldn't resist clenching his fist. No amount of hypothermia, fever, or stimulant-induced psychological trauma compared to these few words.
Using his life's willpower, Bruce suppressed the urge to punch Aunt Cain. He gritted his teeth and said, "Really? So where's her husband?"
"Husband? What husband? Are you referring to the child's father? He's still in the church. Lily was meant to give birth to his 13th child, but we both felt the number was unlucky. So we successfully allowed the child to be born before his another child's birth. It's the 12th."
With a "bang," Bruce punched the wall, startling both women. Bruce knew he shouldn't ask "how exactly do you achieve that," but his extreme anger somehow calmed him down.
"Is that right? Quite a medical miracle," he commented, feigning admiration.
"Indeed, prayer worked," the mother and daughter both looked reverent. Aunt Cain continued, "The elders gave us such an opportunity..."
Bruce was about to ask more about the elders when he heard the clock chime. He glanced at the room clock; it was 10 a.m.
"Ah, it's time for collective prayer. Quick, come to the church with us."
The anger did indeed affect Bruce's mood somewhat; his goal shifted from cautious investigation of the situation to swiftly finding the culprit and confronting him aggressively. So without thinking, he said, "Alright, lead the way."
Bruce suddenly realized that his recent thoughts seriously violated the rules he set for himself. He self-mockingly thought, if Clark were here with him and knew what he intended to do, he probably wouldn't find him hypocritical anymore.
Indeed, the fact he could strictly adhere to the no-kill rule was because the oddballs in Gotham weren't odd enough. When one encounters real scum, they understand they were born to be a butcher.
Bruce followed the mother and daughter through several twists and turns in the town to the church's location. As if time was running out, both women hurriedly ran inside without noticing Bruce behind them. Just as Bruce was about to follow, a shadow suddenly appeared behind him, covering his mouth and dragging him into the nearby flowerbed.
Bruce didn't even have time to react; the person's strength was astounding. Bruce even suspected the grabber might not be human, prompting him to struggle more intensely.
"Don't struggle, it's me."
A familiar yet strange voice appeared next to Bruce's ear, he suddenly turned his head to look—Schiller Rodriguez, the one in black clothes.
"How are you here?!"
"I came in earlier than you." The other party's tone was calm, he said, "After being stabbed by that cursed doll at the bank, I came here."
"You mean you came here before entering the town? Why?"
"It might be related to that doll, but it could also be related to my own abilities. You should have realized by now, this isn't the real world."
"Where is this?"
"Psychic_Battlefield. You can understand it as a virtual world made up of spiritual and supernatural powers. Someone used supernatural powers to create such a space."
"Of course, I already discovered that." Bruce let out a deep sigh and then said, "This place has many eerie aspects. What exactly is going on?"
He looked up at Hunting. Hunting shook his head and said: "I don't know."
"You came in so early, didn't you investigate?"
Hunting shook his head again and said: "Because I can see it, I can't look at it, or else it would notice me. But it could be anyone, so I can't look at anyone."
These words were a bit convoluted, but Bruce still understood, he said, "There is a ghost, right? You saw the 'ghost', so it found you, and you can only hide."
"Sort of, but you'll soon realize it's not a specific thing, but the will that controls this world. You can understand it as 'God'."
"God?" Bruce sneered, the irony and coldness in his tone obvious, "A God who only dares to persecute children in his own crafted dream?"
Hunting didn't speak, he simply said: "You can't see it, it won't notice you. So you can investigate here, but remember, never pray."
Bruce stared at him. Hunting didn't explain further, so he had to ask: "You say I can't see it, so it won't find me. But if this is a world it controls, how come it can't detect that I've come?"
"You're not the only one who came." Hunting said, "You will soon understand."
The two of them waited outside the church until the prayer ended, and the crowd started to pour out of the church. Then Bruce discovered, there were quite a lot of people, with two to three hundred people coming out one after another and more still emerging.
You know, the town they saw before seemed to have only a few people left. Is it that all the people are here?
Thinking of this, Bruce was suddenly shocked: If the deserted town outside is reality, then could it be that all the people have truly entered here?
He immediately linked it to a piece of information obtained previously, that Big Creek Town used to be a tourist attraction with many tourists and many residents and was very prosperous. But such a town had completely declined, isn't that strange?
Generally, a town with tourism as its pillar industry is very difficult to decline to this degree, especially Big Creek Town's tourism resources are natural landscapes. As long as the natural landscape doesn't change, there will always be tourists, which naturally requires supporting services. For such a small town, services have already become the easiest and most profitable industry, even though some young people might leave, the remaining population should be enough to maintain the town's size, how could it develop for decades but end up with nobody?
Bruce thought he might have found the answer: The outside town has become deserted, likely because everyone has come to this mysterious world town.
Then, Bruce realized that he was still thinking too shallowly. Because when he carefully observed the people coming out of the church, he found that most of them were not from the small town.
Bruce has traveled the world for many years, seen all kinds of travelers, and he can very easily discern where the other party comes from and what kind of life experiences they have through some minute actions.
For example, now he saw a white old man wearing a shirt, looking very elegant, but through his walking details and the way he exerted force, Bruce knew he was probably not a clerical worker, more likely a hiking traveler or a field researcher.
And the Black woman walking on the edge, she looked like an American housewife and was carrying a vegetable basket, feeling like a very common American housewife, but she was more likely not an American at all, rather a pure-blood African Black woman, which could be seen from the direction of her bone development.
There was also that mother and son next to her, dressed very ordinarily, but the way they interacted with the people beside them showed that they were more likely upper-class people.
The older woman walking at the end was even more obvious, speaking with a standard trans-Atlantic accent, yet looked living quite poorly, even white hair was barely managed, this is clearly not normal.
Bruce felt his back go cold. The population filling this world might not only include the townsfolk but travelers from all over the world.