mtl008 Chapter 4642 Desperate Escape (4)
Chapter 4642 Desperate Escape (4)
Chapter 4642 A Deadly Escape (Fourteen)
“I think I have a pretty good idea of what’s going on,” Batman said, looking at the device in front of him. “We’re a step too late; we’re not the first.”
He turned to look at the somewhat bewildered Superman and said, "This is a moral game, Clark. What I'm about to say might be important, and you'll probably need to listen carefully to avoid thinking I'm going to do something crazy."
The last sentence sent a chill down Superman's spine. Usually, when Batman says something like that, his subsequent actions are invariably insane, and not just ordinary insane, but downright suicidal.
"We got here very quickly, which proves that we cooperated well and were quite willing to sacrifice. The key to this moral game is to use moral blackmail to squeeze enough blood out of those who arrived first."
"If there is one more immoral bad guy behind us, we will need to give more blood and bear more costs for them, otherwise there will be a chain reaction of collapse and the game will fail."
"In my opinion, we should be ranked second or third. Judging from the amount of blood in this basin, third is more likely, but that's still high. In other words, we must draw enough blood to give the people behind us hope of victory."
"However, if we divide it equally, the result will be that we both lose most of our mobility, and neither of us can save the other. The challenge won't end here; there are many more dangers ahead, so doing it this way is the most disadvantageous."
"The best approach is for us to divide the work. Let one person become weak, while the other remains strong. The person who becomes weak will have reduced mobility, but their intelligence will not be affected, and they can still take on the role of commander. The other person will be responsible for execution. In this way, our speed will not be slowed down too much."
"Considering that maintaining rational thought in a weakened state requires immense willpower, I assume you wouldn't be willing to compete with me in that regard, Clark. After all, I beat you almost every time, don't I?"
Superman smiled at him, but the smile looked somewhat forlorn. He looked at Batman silently and said, "You know what? I suffer every time this happens, Bruce. I know you can always convince me; your words and logic are almost flawless. You always manage to convince everyone like that. My reason tells me I have to believe you, I have to listen to you."
“But no,” Superman said. “Another part of me is screaming mad. He’s against you. He says you’re crazy. He even wants to attack you. I can’t even tell if it’s resentment or not. I can’t face such an evil version of myself.”
“Defeat it,” Batman said.
“Yes, I’ve done it almost every time,” Superman said, looking at him. “Maybe I can do it this time too, but what if there’s a time when I can’t, Batman? Have you thought about that?”
Batman paused for a moment. He extended a hand, seemed hesitant, then lowered it and said, "Sorry, I've gotten used to not having much physical contact with super aliens like you. Even now that we're both normal people, I still can't get used to it. So I can only tell you in words that I wanted to give you a hug."
“When someone decides to die, the one who lives suffers more,” Batman said, looking into his eyes. “I completely understand that, which is why I always promise to come back. I’ve done it so many times, that’s enough for you to trust me, isn’t it?”
Superman sniffed: "At least let me go first, Batman. That way, I can take care of you when you lose your strength."
Batman nodded. The details of the game of strategy were still lingering in his mind. He sighed softly, realizing that there seemed to be some things he hadn't considered, but in this situation, there was no better choice.
What is a dramatic sacrifice for others is just the norm for Batman; in a sense, this is a kind of path dependence.
"My God, what is this?" Harley and Pamela stared in disbelief at the enormous device. "Don't tell me they're going to throw us in and shred us..."
They circled the machine a few times, and then they understood. Harley thought for a moment and said, "I thought we were fast enough, either first or second, but I didn't expect there were other experts out there."
She bent down, took out a disposable needle, and was about to put her hand in. Pamela quickly stopped her: "What are you doing?"
“Isn’t it obvious?” Harley said. “We need to pour in enough blood to open the mechanism. We’re not at the top, but we shouldn’t be at the bottom either. We need to give them more blood to make sure the puzzle is solved.”
Pamela watched as she skillfully attached the needle and prepared to insert it into her arm. While doing so, she muttered, "Luckily I used to be a nurse. Back then, Gotham was in such dire need of nurses, Gordon was desperate and dragged me into helping. I didn't know how at all back then, but thankfully I learned quickly..."
Just as the needle was about to pierce her arm, a hand pressed her down. Pamela looked up at her: "Are you really going to do this?"
“Didn’t I already explain it?” Harley said, looking at Pamela with a hint of helplessness. “That’s how this level is played. It’s a classic moral game puzzle. You can think of it as testing people’s game theory thinking and their ability to turn hypotheses into reality. If we don’t give them enough, we won’t give the next person any hope of winning…”
Harry rattled off a whole bunch of things, while Pamela just stared at her. Harry paused, then asked, "Did you understand?"
“I said no.” Pamela’s tone was flat. Although she had lost her superpowers, her green eyes still looked somewhat eerie in the bright light. She usually wore a gentle, ordinary face, but when she wasn’t smiling, a certain nonchalant indifference would surface.
"I have some different views on your game theory assumptions."
“Hmm.” Harley nodded, signaling her to continue.
Why can't we be the bad guy?
"what?"
"Everyone in front is making room for that selfish bad guy who is unwilling to sacrifice himself, so why can't we take over that space?"
"Because there might be bad guys behind us."
“If there are so many bad guys, the mission itself is impossible to complete,” Pamela said. “Miss Quezel, you're probably thinking you're a fool because you think you're Batman. You should find a Joker to free yourself. Why should we play this saintly game with them?”
“Because if we don’t play, we’ll lose the whole game!” Harley explained earnestly. “We’re here to participate in the dungeon because we want to win. If we didn’t want to win, there’d be no point in playing the game. So, it’s normal to make some sacrifices to win, and it’s not entirely a game for saints, is it?”
Pamela crossed her arms and shook her head, saying, "If they gave us a chip to throw at the table, I'd completely agree with you. But what about now?"
Harley watched her, her eyes following her movements. Pamela turned to look at Harley and said, “We have nothing, which means you can’t think about things entirely from a rational game theory perspective. Because what needs to be sacrificed isn’t material things like money, but your health and comfort, which aren’t things that can be used as bargaining chips.”
“You sound more like Batman than I do,” Harley couldn’t help but say.
“Quite the opposite,” Pamela said. “If Batman had to sacrifice these things, he probably would, because he’s a lunatic too. I’m the normal person who’s never been a superhero or a supervillain.”
“Use the morality of good people and the competitiveness of bad people to make them sacrifice themselves willingly.” Pamela walked over, bracing herself against the wooden platform of the walkway, and looked into Harley’s eyes. “But victory? When have I ever wanted that?”
She raised her head slightly again: "You said we teamed up to play games in order to win, which is not wrong. Because you want to win, and I want you to have fun, so of course I will do my best to help you win."
"So what's the difference now?"
"But if it comes at the cost of your long-term suffering in exchange for the happiness of the two of us at the moment of victory, I would think it's not worth it at all. If you think it's worth it, then you should get your head checked."
Harley didn't know what to say. She reluctantly put down the needle and said, "It's just a game."
“I really don’t want to do this.” Pamela walked over and cupped Harley’s face in her hands, or rather, clamped her head down so she couldn’t move at all. “But, my dear, the days of madmen playing games with madmen are over. I’m fed up with playing games of mutual harm with madmen, and I’m prepared for it—you should go and learn a few tricks from my cabbage.”
Bang! Pamela knocked Harley down with a single punch.
“Thor, step back a little.” Loki picked up the needle and gestured on his arm. “These human-designed gadgets are such a hassle. Couldn’t they have made a fully automatic one? How dare he assume I would use it…”
"What are you going to do?" Thor asked him.
Loki said nothing, but reached out and pulled out the tube. He glanced at the already heavy right-hand balance, his expression slightly somber, but he still reconnected the needle and tube.
Just as he was about to plunge the device into his arm, Thor stopped him. "Loki, you can't take my blindness for granted. Perhaps I'm not as stupid as you think; at least I can roughly tell that this device is for drawing blood."
“Oh, how strange,” Loki said. “This must be the peak of your intelligence in nearly a thousand years. Are you sure you want to use it here?”
“Loki, whenever you’re scared, you try to change the subject.” Thor walked over and looked at him. “Look me in the eyes and tell me what you’re up to.”
“Mission accomplished,” Loki said. “We’re already far behind, probably last or second to last. While being behind has its advantages this time, it might not be the case next time. We’d better hurry up.”
How are you going to complete the task?
“You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.” Loki flipped his other hand over the side of his head. “It’s a very complex game theory problem, but most of it has already been solved. There’s not much for us to do.”
"include?"
“It’s just a matter of drawing some blood,” Loki said. “The people ahead of us have already given a lot, so it won’t really be much.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Thor said. “I’m much healthier than you.”
“Well… I have to do it once in a while,” Loki said, looking at Thor. “At least let me prove that I’m not entirely dependent on you, that I can do things on my own.”
Thor sneered, "The fact that you say that proves it's not just a little blood. Put this thing down, or I'll have to do it."
“I’m serious,” Loki said, turning his head away. “What right do you have to stop me? We’re both just mortals now…”
Bang! Thor punched Loki, knocking him down, grabbed him by the neck, slammed him to the ground, and dragged him toward the exit: "You're right, but unfortunately, there are differences even among mortals."