Chapter 1453: Bats Leaving the Nest (Part 1)

When Schiller landed in the laboratory of the Florence Super Prison, what appeared in front of him was this picture——

Bruce Wayne was shirtless and lying face down on the operating bed. There was a huge wound on his spine from the bottom of his neck to his lumbar spine. The muscles and skin above the spine bones were cut open in an extremely delicate way, like The blood covered him with a layer of gauze.

Bruce tilted his head, facing the experimental table on the other side of the operating bed. His half-long black hair, soaked in sweat due to pain, was stuck to the side of his face, completely covering his closed eyes. Judging from the frequency of the ups and downs of his chest, , he has passed out.

Bain was holding a scalpel and standing next to the operating bed.

Schiller didn't have to search for fragments in his memory to remember what Bane did in the comics. The famous Cyborg mercenary was one of the few villains in the comics who seriously injured Batman's body.

In the comics, Bane breaks Batman's spine - Schiller knows very well that this has not happened in this universe, but it is a virtual accumulation of evil deeds and a criminal record that can be used as evidence in a trial.

Bruce, who was lying on the operating bed with his eyes closed, heard a familiar yet unfamiliar voice. He was familiar because the voice came from Schiller, but unfamiliar because he had never heard such a cold tone from Schiller.

"Sir, may I ask, what did you do to my student?"

The leather shoes took a step forward, and through the reflection on the floor, Bruce could clearly see that Bain suddenly floated up, and countless gray mist enveloped him, lifting him into the air.

Then, the seemingly powerless mist suddenly began to squeeze inward, like a huge irresistible hand, tightly grasping Bain in the palm of his hand.

He wanted to crush him like this - to squeeze the skin tightly and crush the bones until the insides couldn't bear the pressure and burst out of the wound, then shriveled up like an overripe peach with the juice squeezed out.

Bruce had never seen such a violent and bloody side of Schiller.

Schiller was a madman, but he had his own set of standards for life, which could even be called morality. His madness did not contain those things that were contrary to civilization, nor did it include filth, messiness, violence, and barbarism.

Schiller is a very civilized person. He is not picky or pretentious. He just has a meticulous appearance and always maintains etiquette, showing an elegant posture that is always calm and composed, like a perfect human skin.

And now, a part of this human skin was exposed, perhaps the sharpest fangs, the part that made Bruce fully capable and qualified to call him a criminal just by looking at it.

Bain's body began to twist and deform, and the bones of his limbs had been broken. Painful moans overflowed from his mouth. The poison accelerated the injection speed. The skin all over Bain's body turned dark red, and the muscles were still swollen. Struggle in vain.

Schiller stood next to the operating bed, separating Bruce and Bain. He turned his back to Bruce, pushed Bain against the wall on the other side, and was crushing him silently.

"Don't kill him."

Schiller suddenly turned back, because Bruce's tone was completely different from before. It was more like a cold command. But faster than reason, Schiller followed his instinct and let go of his hand.

The moment Bane landed, Schiller heard weak laughter coming from the operating table. It was not Bruce Wayne who was laughing, but Batman, and he was laughing very happily.

Schiller didn't care about the half-dead Bane anymore. He turned around and lowered his head just in time to see Bruce's blue eyes, half of which were soaked in the blood flowing from the wound on his face. Red and blue were intertwined, with an evil past. Headed.

"...Are you manipulating me?"

Schiller, who had recovered from his intense emotions, asked as if he was at a loss.

"Yes." Bruce, who was lying on the operating table, blinked and said, "Because I know how you manipulate me."

"..."

The muscles in Bruce's arms and shoulders exerted force, as if he wanted to change his position, but failed. He fell back on the operating table, and could only lie there, lying in the blood and talking.

"If we are not that close and I don't care about you enough, then nothing you say or do will have any impact on me."

"And if you didn't care enough about me, you wouldn't have come and been angry that I was being killed and hurt."

"It took me several years to solve the mystery, but it wasn't a mystery at all. What controlled me was not machinations or special abilities, but my own emotions."

"Just like now, it's your own love-derived anger that controls you."

Schiller fell silent. After a few minutes, he walked to the experimental table facing Bruce and sat down. Schiller almost never made such a rude move as sitting on the table, but he seemed to be eager to take a rest. meeting.

"Do you know the first time I was shocked by you?" Schiller asked.

Bruce quickly found fragments of memory from those hallucinations. Schiller's shocked expression he had seen was a bit distant, so it seemed vague and distorted, but he still remembered it.

"There is a missing person in the Mawson neighborhood. I thought you were the murderer, but you were not, so I apologized. I clearly remember how surprised you were at that time. That was also the last time I saw you and you shocked me."

"That was the last time I heard you apologize to me."

"Because we didn't know each other well at that time, right?"

"We didn't know each other well at that time."

The air became quiet, but the silence was not embarrassing. They all seemed to be stuck in memories. A few years were far from being called years, but it seemed like a lifetime ago.

"People can easily apologize to strangers." Schiller said first: "Because we have no expectations for strangers, and we don't even expect to see them for the second time in our lives, so the choice is very simple. Things, the impact on judgment does not include the desire to win or lose.”

"But people always want to outdo their families." Bruce continued: "Because they always look forward to proving themselves right and get a good impression from them, but they are afraid that apologizing for mistakes will reduce their weight in their hearts. ”

"But perhaps because we are too familiar with each other and believe that the other party can understand us, we think that an apology is unnecessary." Schiller continued: "If the other party asks for this, the question of whether to apologize or not will rise to whether we can communicate with each other. A matter of understanding.”

"And I tried to understand you, or to be you." Bruce coughed weakly twice, and then said, "But it's not as good as understanding your feelings for me."

"And use it to manipulate me."

"That's just incidental."

"It worked great. It was the first time in my adult life that I was so out of control."

"Can I get back on the student roster?"

Schiller was silent for a long time, and then said: "Yes, and it's not just passing...it can be called excellent."

Bruce's body completely relaxed, as if he had lost all his strength and fell into a pool of blood.

He went into shock but was still conscious, but that wasn't enough to call it bizarre because he was Batman.

Schiller walked back to the operating table. He did not reach out to touch the tools on the table. He stared at the wound that was still bleeding profusely and said, "It looks like you don't want it to heal right away."

"Yes, this is my Outstanding Graduate Medal."

"It just so happens that I don't have the ability to perform surgery, otherwise you wouldn't want this ugly medal."

Bruce laughed softly again, as if he thought the joke was funny, but Schiller picked up a scalpel and said.

"But you still need stitches. I'm going to get a doctor with a surgical license to come over."

Schiller was stunned for a moment. When he came back to his senses, his gray twins became a little unfocused. Bruce asked tentatively: "...sick?"

"It's me."

Ill picked up the scalpel, took a look at the situation at the scene, and said to Bruce: "You need a blood transfusion. You should have ready-made blood, right?"

"Go out through the door on the right. The room on the left is the blood bank."

Schiller passed by Bain when he went to get blood and glanced at him. When he walked back, his eyes fell on Bain, but he asked Bruce: "The new prey you chose?"

"Pride chose it for me."

"Strict as always." Schiller commented, and began to transfuse Bruce's blood. After adjusting the position of the blood bag, he began to organize the surgical tools.

"I will use gray mist to take out the nanocontroller first. I know you won't take anesthesia, but the pain will tighten the muscles and affect the suturing effect, so I will let the gray mist temporarily cut off your pain nerves. In addition, your face The wound shouldn’t be your medal, right?”

Bruce shook his head weakly. He saw a wisp of gray mist drifting past his eyes, and the wounds on his face healed instantly.

Schiller picked out the sutures and said, "It looks like you didn't listen at all to what I said. The fight between the two of you has added a roomful of blood and an innocent victim, maybe more than one."

"On the contrary, I listened, remembered and understood."

"Don't look for understanding from your father other than family affection, huh?"

"I'm studying the part within family ties."

"Obsessive."

"But it was quite effective."

Schiller began to sew up the wound on Bruce's back. Before he started, he took one look at Bruce's expression and said, "But you don't look happy."

"Because he seems a little tired." Bruce said with his eyes closed.

"Oh, really?" There was a hint of surprise in Schiller's tone: "Knock on my door with the greatest strength ever and ask me to come up and take over. Then run to the radio room in the tower and broadcast you thirty-six times in a row. The exhaustion of finally passing the graduation exam and still being broadcast?”

Bruce started laughing again, and Schiller had to reach out and hold his shoulders to prevent him from moving too much and affecting the suturing. After Bruce calmed down, Schiller said while suturing the wound: "You know he is talking to the bat from another world. Xia communication?”

"Of course, that Batman visited him some time ago and gave him half of the equation, but I didn't read it."

"You should take a look. It is the result of his joint research with the geniuses from another universe. It may allow you to understand some of the mysteries of the universe."

"The universe doesn't need any more mysteries."

"Are you content with the status quo?" Schiller adjusted his gloves, smoothed out the stitches, and then said: "It's not surprising. You are probably crazier and crueler than most Batmans, perhaps even more cruel than the Joker. cruel."

"Why do you say that?"

"Which do you think is more evil, destroying the body or torturing the spirit?"

Bruce did not answer, and Schiller continued: "The Joker only destroys the body. No matter how many people his explosives kill, their pain will be short-lived. Death will end everything."

"But mental torture is long and endless, like a thorn in the flesh, slowly corroding the few remaining pieces of wood on a small boat on the vast ocean, making the people on the boat think of jumping into the sea and dying several times in their dreams at midnight, but they realize that they lack the courage."

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading!

"This will make them attribute the pain they endure to their cowardice, and even the last resentment before death will fall on their heads. There will be no imagination of afterlife or ghosts. The end and decay are extremely sad."

"This is an extremely terrible torture, much more terrible than death. The most terrible physical torture is not even one ten-thousandth of the mental pain."

"Isn't that what you want me to do?"

"No, I just want you to learn how to inflict such mental pain on people. If you have this ability, but you choose to quickly end their bodies, the death you give them will become a gift, not evil."

"It sounds reasonable."

"So, will you kill the criminal?"

Bruce blinked lightly and said: "You think I can only manipulate criminals?"

"Don't you?"

"Then you haven't realized how crazy I am."

Schiller's hand paused for a moment, and then he sewed the last wound with a needle. His hands were still steady, but there was a hint of curiosity in his tone, "Then can I be lucky enough to get a ticket?"

"How are you going to pay?"

"I can teach you how to end a person's body in the fastest way. You must not be good at this because you haven't really done it. Theory and practice are different."

"Deal."

"Bang!"

Amanda led the guards to break open the door of the laboratory. After seeing a room full of blood, Bruce lying on the operating table, Schiller standing next to him, and Bane lying on the ground, she screamed loudly.

"Call the doctor!

! Prepare the plane!

!"