Dreaming for 10,000 years

Chapter 354 Resurrection from the Dead

At this moment, Shi Fei was not watching a grand show. Instead, he took the Joker's head from the Nightingale Gang and the Joker's body and limbs from the Blackfin Gang and the Twins Gang.

He had figured out whose dream this was.

He initially thought it was Wayne's, but it didn't look like it. Now he knows.

In the deepest freezer room of the abandoned chemical plant, Shi Fei stood alone in front of three black body bags.

The cold light from the incandescent bulbs cast distorted shadows on the frosted metal walls, and exhaled breath condensed and dissipated in the air. This place, once the Blackfin Gang's secret burial site, had now become the location for resurrection rituals.

Shi Fei pulled open a black body bag. The head, preserved by the Nightingale Gang, was the first to be revealed. Frost still clung to the pale skin, and the purple lips were slightly parted, as if laughing silently.

His fingers traced the suture line across the forehead, and the ice crystals melted at Shi Fei's fingertips. Then, he gently placed the head in the center of the operating table, adjusting the angle to make it appear as if the head was asleep.

The second body bag contained the clown's torso.

When Shi Fei dragged it out, its cold body made a dull thud on the metal table.

The torso was riddled with bullet holes and knife wounds, but the muscle tissue was well preserved, and several healed old scars were even visible.

Most striking is the brand on his right scapula—a burning Ace of Spades, with the skin around the edges showing an unnatural charred black.

The last body bag contained the clown's limbs.

Shi Fei removed them one by one and arranged them on the operating table like puzzle pieces. The incisions on the limbs were equally precise, with clean cuts that were unsettling.

He noticed a rusty copper ring on his right index finger with the words "Mr. J" engraved on it.

These remaining body parts, pieced together on the rusty operating table, formed a broken human figure.

That person is the Joker.

He was preparing to thaw the clown and then stitch him up to take a look. Suddenly, the operating table lights began to flicker, and the hum of the cryo-rigger in the freezer chamber turned into a piercing scream.

The thermometer on the wall spun wildly, plummeting from -20 degrees Celsius to +15 degrees Celsius.

"Crack"—the sound of ice breaking came from the operating table.

Shi Fei saw that the wounds at the joints of the body parts were healing on their own, with granulation tissue wriggling and intertwining like living things. The fatal bullet holes and knife wounds disappeared at a visible speed, leaving only faint white scars.

Even more bizarrely, the clothing was also repairing itself. Countless tiny fibers extended from the cut edges of the purple suit, searching for their corresponding other half as if they were alive.

When the last crack disappeared, the entire suit looked brand new, even the gold thread embroidery on the cuffs was restored to its original state.

Then, the body on the operating table began to convulse violently. Shi Fei saw the clown's fingers begin to spasm, his nails scraping against the metal surface with a teeth-grinding sound.

Then, those wide eyes suddenly blinked, light shone in the emerald green irises, and the pupils contracted to the size of pinpoints.

He came back to life, as if he had been resurrected. Or rather, he didn't die; he simply observed the city in a different way.

The clown's mouth slowly stretched into a wide grin, revealing perfectly inhuman teeth and an exaggerated smile.

"Surprise~" His vocal cords seemed to be still adjusting, his voice sounding like rusty gears grinding together: "Who woke me up this time?"

Shi Fei watched as the clown slowly sat up, moving his newly reattached neck with a chilling "click." Suddenly, the incandescent light in the freezer shattered, leaving only the clown's glowing green eyes and his ever-present, maniacal smile in the darkness.

“He’s your dad!” Shi Fei wasn’t going to let the clown show off here.

"..." The clown gave a helpless look, turned to look at Shi Fei, and then gave a strange smile and said, "So it's you! The great God of Dreams!"

He suddenly adopted an exaggeratedly fawning expression and knelt on one knee in a comical gesture.

Shi Fei shook his head and said, "I am not the god of dreams. In this dream, you are the god!"

"Me?" the clown sneered. "If I were a god, how could I be torn into eight pieces? Oh, not eight pieces, but six!"

The head, torso, and limbs make up six pieces.

“I didn’t think of you at first, but after thinking about it, I felt it must be you,” Shi Fei said. “Only someone like you, the Gotham City’s Sorrow, could have such a strange dream.”

"No, no, no~" The clown suddenly leaned closer, the stench of rotting perfume mixed with the smell of preservatives wafting over him: "This is all thanks to you, the great God of Dreams."

His tone suddenly became unusually respectful, and a strange light flickered in his green eyes.

With a snap of his fingers, the surrounding scene abruptly changed. They were instantly transported to an underground dream world, where, through a one-way mirror, they could see Jack devising a battle plan in the dim light, surrounded by a crowd of fanatical followers.

“I’ve had many dreams, many interesting ones, but also nightmares.” The clown looked at Jack and asked Shi Fei, “Do you know what I’m most afraid of?”

Shi Fei raised an eyebrow: "It can't be something like being dismembered and frozen, can it?"

"Hahaha~" The clown's laughter echoed in the empty underground world. "You're so funny! The way you talk is truly befitting of the God of Dreams."

He paced to the glass, his fingers scraping across it with a harsh sound: "Slipping on a banana peel and breaking your neck, being stabbed to death by a fame-seeking thug, or even—" His voice grew hoarse—"Watching Batman die in a stupid car accident."

Shi Fei understood what he meant and said, "You're afraid you really look like a clown."

"Exactly!"

The Joker whirled around, the hem of his purple suit billowing in an exaggerated arc: "I can be killed by Batman, but I won't die at the hands of some nobody! I can be a madman, but I can't... really just be a madman."

His voice grew softer and softer until it was almost a whisper.

If he were truly a clown, then his life would amount to nothing more than providing others with a few laughs.

"So, here," Shi Fei looked around, "is this your nightmare or your dream?"

The clown spread his arms wide and bowed like a circus performer taking his final bow: "That was an interesting dream."

He straightened up, his green eyes staring directly at Shi Fei: "And all of this is thanks to you, dear God of Dreams."

"What does this have to do with me?" Shi Fei frowned. "I've never seen you before."

The clown's smile widened, his mouth stretching almost to his ears: "Oh? So what do you think?" His finger suddenly pointed to Shi Fei's chest: "Why did you appear in 'my' dream?"

"Why?" Shi Fei retorted, "Shouldn't I appear in your dream?"

(End of this chapter)