amaotonovel Chapter 4581 The Day of Brightest Day (4)
Chapter 4581 The Day of Brightest Day (4)
Chapter 4581 The Day of Brightest Light (Forty)
“Why are you so surprised?” Schiller asked. “Could it be that in your mind, the other versions of you all have a perfect family, while only you are experiencing a little problem…”
“Oh, I see,” he continued. “You think that the current situation between you two is because you met me. And if you hadn’t met me, you could have maintained a good father-son relationship. Right?”
Deathstroke did not answer. He did have some thoughts on the matter, but not attributing it to Schiller; rather, he felt that things had started to go wrong ever since he became younger.
He felt that the previous accident had turned his otherwise smooth life into a mess, and Schiller had only made things worse. But if Schiller's claims about his multiverse counterparts were true, then the problem might be far more serious than he imagined.
Before this, Deathstroke thought it wasn't a big problem. Although Joseph had discovered he was an assassin, his son was clearly not the kind of morally upright person who adhered to ethical standards, and he still had feelings for him. They could easily talk things out, at least without turning against each other.
However, if fathers and sons turning against each other is a common occurrence in the multiverse, it proves that their entanglements are not so simple, and cannot be resolved through mere conversation. So why is this?
Deathstroke was utterly baffled. Although he concealed his identity and didn't spend much time at home, he never neglected his family materially, providing them with an extremely comfortable life. When he was home, he was dutiful, never arguing with his wife. Even when disciplining the children, he only gave them a symbolic spanking. How could things have come to this?
Schiller leaned against the car door and said, "There are many reasons. If you want to hear them, get in the car. I'm in a hurry to find some artifacts."
Schiller got into the carriage after saying that. Deathstroke sighed and sheathed his sword. Damn it, Schiller was right. He believed whatever the guy said now.
Or perhaps the situation in the multiverse isn't like that. Or perhaps he's just playing him again. But Deathstroke still wants to hear what he has to say.
"Is being an assassin a good profession?" Schiller's first question left Deathstroke speechless.
“From a purely professional standpoint, it doesn’t seem so bad,” Deathstroke said. “It’s a very free job. You can take jobs when you want and take a vacation when you don’t. Occasionally you’ll encounter difficult clients, and dealing with them can be a bit annoying, but considering the high pay, it’s not unacceptable. Overall, there’s nothing to complain about.”
"That's the problem."
"What's the problem?"
“You can’t judge a profession solely from a professional perspective,” Schiller said, looking at him. “You can’t judge any profession based on the profession itself alone. Otherwise, people would have the same social evaluation of gangsters and doctors. Many people in those two professions have similar workloads and incomes, don’t they?”
"So you mean assassins aren't popular with people, and they won't be popular with my children either?"
“What I mean is, you’re lucky to be almost unrestrained by morality and law; it’s a low-probability situation. Your children aren’t so lucky. They can’t escape the rules of society, and they’re destined to become the knife that those rules use against you.”
Deathstroke frowned deeply, seemingly pondering Schiller's words. Schiller continued, "You are not bound by morality because of your inherent defects, which we have already discussed. And you are not bound by law because you underwent human modification experiments, possessing immense strength and immortality. Think about it, what would you be like without these two things?"
"Without these two things, I probably wouldn't have become an assassin."
“That’s it. Your children don’t have these two qualities, so it’s unlikely they’ll become a killer like you. They’re destined to be on a different path from you. They’ll be more inclined to uphold social rules because that’s more beneficial for ordinary people.”
"How is it advantageous?" Deathstroke asked. "What's so good about being restricted by all those rules and regulations?"
"Have you ever been unable to get the final payment back?" Schiller asked.
“Of course there are,” Deathstroke said, scoffing. “This world has never lacked these self-righteous fools. But so far, no one has been able to delay paying me. You know what I’ll do to them.”
"Okay. So let's say you're not an assassin—I mean, you haven't undergone any human modifications, you're just an ordinary discharged soldier who found a job, and then you run into a boss who doesn't pay your wages. What would you do?"
“Of course we’ll ask him,” Deathstroke said.
"What if he doesn't give it to me?"
"Why not just beat him up?" Deathstroke thought for a moment and said, "Okay, let me think. I could go to his company and cause trouble, make him unable to work, or gather evidence of his misdeeds..."
"So how will you eat during this time?"
"what?"
"Without a salary, you have no money. How will you pay rent? How will you buy food?"
"Uh... then I'll quit this job and find a new one. That way I'll have a salary, right?"
"So if you're looking for a job and starting a new one, when would you go and cause trouble for your previous boss?"
"Can't we go at night?"
“Ordinary people need to sleep. And new jobs require adjustment, which often makes them more tired. If you're thieves every night, you simply won't get enough rest, and your body will break down.”
"Good heavens. I really should go and beat him up, right?"
"When you assassinate those rich people, how many bodyguards do they have? How strict are the security checks at their residences? How difficult is it to track their whereabouts? There must be quite a few people who give you headaches too, right? Can ordinary people really handle those people?"
Deathstroke didn't even need to think carefully; several names popped into his head, including Bruce Wayne and Alexander Luther. It's no exaggeration to say that their offices were so poorly designed that even God would get lost for two hours, and Death would need GPS to navigate.
Let alone ordinary people, he would keep his distance from such things. Although neither of them paid, Deathstroke wouldn't take their jobs. Luther was one thing, at least his security system had some design elements. But that Wayne was just throwing money around, designing a security system for a security system that was completely unrelated to his own security plans. Deathstroke laughed when he first went to see it.
Without a doubt, it's a pipe dream for an ordinary person to cause trouble for such a big boss. Although I haven't heard of them owing wages, if someone like that really dared to do something, even if an ordinary person could afford to call the death knell, they might not be able to get their money back.
"There's no way around it." Putting himself in their shoes, Deathstroke shook his head and said, "If that's the case, then we'll just have to give up. Human strength has its limits."
Schiller shook his head and said, "You joined the army too early and became an assassin. You lack understanding of how ordinary society works. The best way is actually to prosecute and expose them."
Deathstroke turned to look at him, and Schiller explained, “For some ordinary small business owners, a lawsuit can be relatively more effective. Because these people aren’t powerful enough to interfere with the judicial process. Although it will take a long time and a lot of effort, there is still hope of getting it back.”
"And the exposure is naturally aimed at those famous big bosses. Their reputation is closely related to the stock price of their own companies. Attacking them with public opinion is more effective."
“Wait,” Deathstroke said, “Won’t they retaliate?”
"Do you think they have no rivals?" Schiller asked. "If Luther finds out about Wayne's dirty secrets, he won't even need the person to come to him; he'll find a way to get to the person involved. It would be worth it if it made Wayne's stock price drop by one point."
“That’s true,” Deathstroke nodded. “It’s certainly better than confronting them head-on.”
“These are all part of the social rules,” Schiller said. “In a sense, social rules protect ordinary people. Those restrictions and oppressions you perceive are not only directed at you, but also at your enemies. Without them, the enemies you would face in the jungle would not only be big guys and skilled fighters, but more likely King Kong and Godzilla.”
Deathstroke nodded. He thought Schiller had a point. If he hadn't undergone the body modifications and retired from the military, he would either have joined a security company as a bank security guard or escort, or become a policeman or secret agent. These professions were prone to trouble. At that point, he would really have to rely on the employee benefits clause and the law to protect him.
“Most people who oppose rules, feeling that there are too many restrictions and that the law of the jungle is more liberating, are precisely those who are too well protected by rules. They don’t understand how terrible a truly chaotic jungle society would be,” Schiller continued. “The more oppressed people are, the more they understand that they need the protection of social rules, and the more they advocate for an orderly society. Because they know very well that without these rules, they would die a more miserable death than anyone else.”
“You mean my children are being oppressed?” Deathstroke frowned again. “We’re not exactly rolling in money, but we’re not doing badly either,” he said.
Schiller sneered and said, "I already told you. You've been out of touch with ordinary society for too long. Do you still think America is where you were when you were young?"
"Uh……"
Deathstroke's comics actually appeared relatively late. The first issue was published in the 80s, making him a very young character in the American comic book world. However, his age is set quite high, possibly born in the 20s or 30s. In other words, he belongs to the Roosevelt generation.
His childhood likely coincided with the height of Roosevelt's New Deal. Consider this: he killed his father at a young age and lived with his mother. Yet, his neighbor was an engineer whose single job provided a comfortable life for his entire family. This proves that the Deathstroke family at least had a decent house and could afford property taxes and living expenses. Even after moving away, he continued to receive an education and became a popular figure at school. His life wasn't particularly difficult at that time.
However, as time went on, things began to change. In the United States and other countries, a specific term has emerged: "middle-class anxiety."
To be precise, the term "middle class" itself is designed to create anxiety. What does it mean to be middle class? It means being neither rich nor poor. You're not exactly wealthy, nor are you struggling to make ends meet, but you have some savings and live a fairly comfortable life.
But precisely because of this, they are the most anxious group of people. On the one hand, they desperately want to climb up the social ladder and become capitalists who truly control the means of production; on the other hand, they are terrified of falling, afraid of having their dream of a respectable life shattered, and thus realizing that they are still proletarians.
This anxiety is so pervasive and impactful that it has spawned countless industries—entrepreneurship, education and training, healthcare—penetrating every aspect of society. People in every country are discussing this issue. But if we're talking about the country with the most severe middle-class anxiety, it's undoubtedly the United States.