"Why are you so surprised?" Shiller asked. "Surely, in your imagination, every other version of you in other universes has a perfect family, and only you are having a little situation..."
"Oh, I see," he continued, "you think that this situation between you started because you met me. And if you hadn't met me, you could have maintained a good father-son relationship. Right?"
Deathstroke didn't answer. He indeed had similar thoughts, but he didn't blame Shiller for it; rather, he felt that since he became younger, everything started to go awry.
He thought that the last accident was what turned his otherwise smooth life into a mess, and Shiller merely added insult to injury. But if Shiller's mention of his multiverse counterparts' situation were true, the problem might be more serious than he imagined.
Before this, Deathstroke thought it wasn't such a big problem. Though Joseph discovered he was a killer, his son clearly wasn't a paragon of virtue either and still had feelings for him. They could have a good talk, at least not to the point of becoming enemies.
However, if father-son estrangement is common in the multiverse, it proves that their entanglement is not that simple and can't be solved just by talking. So why is that?
Deathstroke was utterly baffled. Although he hid his identity and didn't spend much time at home, he never materially shortchanged his family, providing them with a very comfortable life; he was responsible at home, never argued with his wife; even when disciplining his kids, it was just a symbolic smack on the butt. How did it come to this?
Shiller leaned against the car door and said, "The reasons are manifold. If you want to listen, get in the car. I'm in a hurry to find some artifacts."
After saying that, Shiller got in the car. Deathstroke let out a long sigh and sheathed his sword. Damn it, Shiller was right. He'd believe anything this guy said now.
Or perhaps the multiverse situation is not like that. Or he was just being fooled again. But Deathstroke still wanted to hear what he had to say.
"Is being a killer a good profession?" Shiller's first question left Deathstroke without an answer.
"From a professional point of view, it doesn't seem bad," Deathstroke said. "It's a very free profession. You take jobs if you want, and if not, you go on a break. Occasionally, there are demanding clients; dealing with them is annoying, but considering the high remuneration, it's acceptable. Overall, nothing much to complain about."
"That's where the problem lies."
"What problem?"
"You can't just talk from a professional perspective." Shiller looked at him and said, "Evaluating any profession can't be solely from the job itself. Otherwise, people would judge mob members and doctors with the same societal standards. Don't many in these professions have similar labor intensity and income?"
"So, you mean killers aren't welcomed, nor will they be by my children?"
"I mean, your ability to almost evade moral and legal restrictions is due to your good fortune, which is a rare occurrence. Your children aren't so lucky. They can't escape societal rules, so they are destined to become the knife society uses against you."
Deathstroke furrowed his brow deeply, seeming to ponder Shiller's words. Shiller continued, "You aren't bound by morality because of an inherent flaw, which we've already discussed. And your elusion from the law is because you underwent human modification experiments, granting you immense strength and immortality. Think about it, what if you didn't have these two things?"
"Without them, I probably wouldn't be a killer."
"Exactly. Your children lack these advantages, making it hard for them to become killers like you. Thus, they are destined to be on a different path. They are more inclined to uphold societal rules because that's more beneficial for ordinary people."
"Beneficial how?" Deathstroke asked, "How is being restricted by all those rules any good?"
"Have you ever failed to collect payment?" Shiller asked.
"Of course," Deathstroke sneered, "This world's never short of those who think they're smart. But, so far, no one has been able to default on my payment. You know what happens to them."
"Alright. Now suppose you're not a killer — I mean, you haven't undergone human modification, just a regular person retired from the military looking for a job. You then encounter a boss who withholds wages. What do you do?"
"Of course, I'd confront him," Deathstroke said.
"And if he still doesn't pay up?"
"Can't I just beat him up?" Deathstroke thought about it, then said, "Alright, let me think. I could cause havoc in his company, make it hard for him to operate, or gather evidence of his wrongdoings..."
"How will you eat during this period?"
"What?"
"Without a salary, you have no money. How do you pay rent, what do you buy food with?"
"Uh... then I'll quit this job and find a new one. That way, wouldn't I have a salary?"
"And if you're going to find a job and dive into new work, when do you plan to mess with your last boss?"
"Can't I go at night?"
"Ordinary people need to sleep. Plus, you'll need to adapt to a new job, which tends to be more tiring. If you play thief every night, you won't get enough rest, and your body will break down."
"Good heavens. Should I just beat him up then?"
"When you go to assassinate those rich people, how many bodyguards do they have around? How strict is the security where they live? How hard is it to track their movements? There are probably quite a few troublesome figures for you, right? Can ordinary people really handle that?"
Deathstroke doesn't even have to think hard; several names pop into his mind, including Bruce Wayne and Alexander Luther. It's no exaggeration to say that both of their offices are built so that even if God came, He'd get lost for two hours, and the God of Death would need GPS.
Don't even mention ordinary people; he keeps his distance from them. Although neither of these two pays up, Deathstroke also doesn't take their jobs. Forget Luther; at least his security system has some design. That Wayne guy is really just flaunting his wealth by piling up layers upon layers, designing security systems for the security systems of security systems. Deathstroke laughed the first time he went there.
No doubt, it's pure fantasy for ordinary people to want to trouble such big bosses. Although you don't hear about them defaulting on salaries, if such people really dared to, ordinary people wouldn't be able to recover their money even if they could afford to hire Deathstroke.
"No way." After imagining himself in their shoes, Deathstroke shook his head, "If that's the case, you can only drop it. Human effort has its limits."
Shiller, however, shook his head and said, "You joined the army too early, then became a hitman, so you lack an understanding of how ordinary society runs. The best way is actually to sue them and expose them."
Deathstroke turned his head to look at him, and Shiller explained, "For some ordinary small bosses, lawsuits are relatively useful. Because these people aren't influential enough to interfere with judicial procedures. Although the process might take a long time and require a lot of effort, there's still hope to get it back."
"And exposure is naturally for those famous big bosses. Their reputation is closely tied to their company's stock prices. Using public opinion to attack them can be quite effective."
"Wait," Deathstroke said, "won't they retaliate?"
"Do you think they don't have adversaries?" Shiller asked, "If Luther learned that Wayne had such dirt, he wouldn't even need someone to approach him; he'd find a way to contact the party involved. Making Wayne's stock price drop by a point is worth it."
"True." Deathstroke nodded, "This is indeed better than confronting them head-on."
"These are parts within social rules," Shiller said, "In a way, social rules protect ordinary people. Those restrictions and pressures you perceive aren't just aimed at you; they also target your enemies. Without these, in the jungle, the adversaries you'd face wouldn't just be big guys and fighters, but likely King Kong and Godzilla as well."
Deathstroke nodded. He thought Shiller made some sense. Had he not undergone human modification and retired from the military, he would have either joined a security company, as a bank guard or escort, or become a police officer or agent. These professions often attract trouble. At that point, he'd really only be able to rely on employee clauses and strong laws.
"Most people who oppose rules, thinking constraints are too many, preferring the law of the jungle for more freedom, are precisely those well-protected by rules. They don't understand how terrifying a truly chaotic jungle society is," Shiller continued, "The more oppressed people are, the more they understand their need for social rules, and the more they support orderly society. Because they know very well that without these rules, they'd die more miserably than anyone."
"Are you saying my kids are oppressed?" Deathstroke frowned again, saying, "Though our family isn't top-tier wealthy, we're not doing bad, are we?"
Shiller sneered, "I've said it. You've been out of ordinary society for too long. Do you still think America is like when you were young?"
"Uh..."
Deathstroke's comics actually appeared relatively late. They were first published in the 1980s, making him a rather young character in the American comic circle. But his age is set relatively high, possibly someone born in the 1920s or 30s. In other words, he's of the Roosevelt era.
His youth should have been during the fervent New Deal period. Think about it, he killed his father as a young child and depended on his mother. Yet, his neighbor was still an engineer who could support the family alone. This proves that Deathstroke's family at least had a decent house, could afford property taxes and living expenses. Even after moving, he always had access to education and became a prominent student in school. Those days weren't tough for him at all.
However, as time moved on, things began to change a bit. Not only in America but in other countries as well, a specific term emerged: "middle-class anxiety."
To be precise, the term "middle class" itself is designed to create anxiety. What is middle class? It is being not quite elite yet not impoverished, possessing a small fortune and living a relatively good life.
But precisely because of this, they are the most anxious group. On one hand, they desperately want to climb up and become capitalists who truly control the means of production; on the other hand, they fear falling, being exposed from the facade of a decent life, realizing they remain proletarians.
This anxiety is so pervasive and influential that it has spawned countless industries, entrepreneurship, education and training, and healthcare, infiltrating every aspect of society. People in every country are discussing this issue. However, if we were to say which country has the worst middle-class anxiety, it would undoubtedly be America.