Chapter 175 The Phantom of the Opera (Part 1)

Gordon put the coffee cup in his hand on the table. The bottom of the cup hit the table with a crisp sound. He sighed and pulled the chair away. The moment his butt hit the cushion, he heard the old TV beside him suddenly emit a loud sound. There was a violent noise that scared him so much that he jumped up from his chair.

Originally, an ordinary TV series was playing on the TV. Suddenly, the screen turned into a snowflake shape, a huge noise came from inside, and the screen flashed, revealing a pale face, green hair, and a scary clown painted on his face. A person wearing makeup appears on the screen.

The clown's smiling face made him look like he was smiling all the time, but a whimpering sound came from his mouth. While he was crying, he wiped his eyes with his arms and said in a hoarse voice: "Insert a missing person notice." , from Sad Jack, my good friend Batman is missing..."

His voice was like firewood, dry and astringent. Suddenly, he stopped his performance and stared directly outside the screen. The corners of his mouth turned downwards, but his makeup remained intact. He had that weird smile on his face, which made him look very distorted.

"...I want to find him, even if he just humiliated me." He said sullenly, and when he stopped smiling, an atmosphere of terror filled the air.

Schiller was in his ward at Arkham Asylum, watching the TV on the wall.

The clown suddenly made another sad expression. He said: "I am a homeless poor guy. After the road cracked, the truck driver lost his job. I still have a bank loan to repay, woo hoo..."

He suddenly covered his face and started crying, and then the whimpering began to become more and more shrill, and then turned into crazy laughter. He raised his head and opened his mouth, and the sharp laughter spread throughout the world. Every corner of Gotham.

"Did you think I would say that?!" He yelled crazily: "That's not important!" ! What matters is the bat! You idiots! ! ! "

He hugged the camera, and his pale face magnified infinitely in front of the camera. He seemed to be looking for something through the camera, and kept bringing his eyes closer.

"When did I first see him? Let me think about it, let me think about it..."

"Oh!" The clown suddenly yelled, leaning back and straightening again. His hair was thrown to his forehead, and his eyes were covered in the shadow of the hair. He brushed his hair away with his hands and looked down. The corners of his curled lips slowly raised, and his expression became gentle, but even more weird.

"I hit a punk to death with a hammer, and his head exploded like a watermelon, and that's it—bang!"

"Then his partner yelled, 'The bats are coming! The bats are coming!'" the clown pouted, imitating a cry for help.

"Bat? Hahahahaha bat...a bat that doesn't kill people..."

"How could there be such a person? I think these gangsters actually think Gotham has a savior! Hahahahaha..."

"I deliberately blow up buildings, knock people's heads off, or make them run out and call for help... But the bat won't come! He won't come to see me! My savior won't come..."

The clown covered his face with his hands and slowly slid down, pulling his pale skin downward with his fingers, easily exposing the blood-red muscles under his eyelids.

"And I only know why today..."

He suddenly grabbed the camera like crazy and shouted: "Because he thinks I am a killer trained by those idiots!! He thinks there is no difference between me and the lunatics on the street! He... wu wu wu... he thinks I'm just an ordinary lunatic...wuwuwuwu..."

"How can an ordinary person... ugh... how can he be friends with the great Batman..."

The clown was crying and wiping his tears with his arms. He said sadly: "When I went to save him...he actually thought I was the killer of the Court of Owls..."

Suddenly, he puffed up his chest, took a deep breath to fill his lungs with air, grabbed the camera and roared loudly: "He thinks I'm mediocre!!! He doesn't think I'm any different!!! It's all your fault!" !”

"You have created so many lunatics!!! You make Batman think I am a common psychopath!!!! He can't see me! Can't see me! Don't want to participate in my game..."

He was almost hoarse, as if screaming, and everyone in front of the TV could feel his anger and sadness.

Suddenly, he calmed down, looked straight at the camera, and said: "You have a plan, I have one, I have one too, and I want to prove to you that I am Batman's friend, I am, I am Different…”

"I call this plan..."

"The owl is pouring in the mold! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

With crazy laughter echoing in the sky, a flash of lightning flashed across the sky, and it rained again in Gotham.

The TV turned into a snowflake again. Schiller stood up, took out the remote control, turned off the TV on the wall of the ward, then threw down the remote control, turned back to Batman lying on the hospital bed and said: "How is it? It feels good. Did you order it?”

Batman pursed his lips tightly and said nothing. Schiller folded his arms and gloated: "This is what will happen if you don't listen to others' advice. I have told you not to give that unlucky name. Now Okay, split in half?"

Evans, who was in the hospital bed next to him, shouted: "It has nothing to do with that!"

His voice was still a little dry, but full of energy. The Dionysian factor in his body had healed all his injuries, and even the scars he had left before no longer existed.

However, Batman next to him was not in good condition. He was still suffering from intravenous drip and was obviously seriously injured. He was still unable to get up smoothly.

"Who is that madman?" Batman asked full of doubts: "I was blown away by the explosion. When I woke up, I saw him standing in front of me and laughing at me."

"I thought he was a claw sent by the Court of Owls, so I sprayed him with the anesthetic spray on my arm, but he didn't react at all."

"I asked him if he was sent by the Court of Owls to kill me, and he started yelling like crazy and smashing things, and then he squatted on the ground and cried."

"He hit me with his fist, and I spit out two mouthfuls of blood. He apologized frantically, and then ran out and said he would find a doctor for me."

"I rescued you while he was out." Schiller said with a shrug.

"Did he just say that he had created many cases before?" Batman frowned and said solemnly: "I always thought that he was the same as those who went crazy because of the rain."

"But I think back now, about a couple weeks ago, I was out on patrol and I had three bombings in one night, which is an unusually high frequency even in Gotham."

"He just wants to be your friend, but you don't see him at all."

"There are too many madmen in Gotham." Batman's mouth curled downwards, looking cold and serious. "Why should I tell the difference? I have no interest in getting inside the mind of a madman."

Schiller walked to the middle of the two hospital beds, moved a chair and sat down, then turned to the other side to look at Evans and asked him: "I have made it clear to you before, this is how it is."

Evans' sadness was evident when he said: "I don't know anything. I've been kept in the dark. I..."

He covered his eyes in pain and said, "I clearly remember that my brother and I had a very good relationship. I can even remember his smile, but if I think about it carefully, I can't remember anything."

"Human memory has a protective mechanism. When your personality is resurrected, too many memory deficiencies and inconsistencies will most likely lead to another collapse of the personality."

"At this time, the self-healing function of the mind will take effect. It will beautify many important things to fill the gaps in your memory and mental trauma."

"I don't think he's like that, he's not..."

Schiller suddenly stretched out his hand and pressed Evans's forehead directly, making his body fall upright onto the hospital bed, and his head fell back on the pillow. Evans twitched, and when he woke up again, his eyes looked different. .

"You should be able to see Evans' performance, right? Alberto?"

He was silent. Although he looked exactly like Evans, when Alberto came out, his facial muscles seemed to be completely different.

"You should have heard what I told Evans before. You are actually the personality created by the Court of Owls, and you are the killer trained by their brainwashing plan."

Alberto sneered and said, "Do you really think I am loyal to them? If I didn't act fanatical, how could they use me to complete that plan? How would I get the chance of eternal life?"

"You only pursue eternal life?"

"Revenge...and revenge." Evans' nose twitched, making him look very fierce.

"If it is true, as you say, that I am the personality created by the Court of Owls, then they have made a huge mistake."

"They shouldn't have made me another godfather, they shouldn't have made me so much like my father, they shouldn't have made me a real Falcone. There is no Falcone in the world who would be willing to accept Man is at the mercy of others.”

Schiller leaned to one side and leaned on the armrest of the chair. He said with interest: "Actually, I also found it very strange at the time. The behavioral patterns they set for you are in conflict with the thoughts they set for you. "

"They want you to be loyal to the Court of Owls, and they want you to be the perfect successor to the Godfather, a person exactly like the old Godfather."

"But the old godfather cannot be a fanatical believer who surrenders to some mysterious organization. He only believes in himself and the authority in his hands."

"So you were just faking it from the beginning?"

Alberto shook his head and said: "No, I did switch sides to the Court of Owls, but it was not because I was superstitious about them, but because I wanted to take revenge on my father."

"In the past, I could never find the reason, but when you told Evans the truth, I understood."

"I understand the reason why I can't feel any family affection from him or his trust in me."

"He never considered me his son."

Alberto's voice became deeper and deeper: "Maybe in order for me to play the role of Falcone's heir, the Court of Owls didn't give me any truth, so I thought that I was really Falcone's son. ”

"But he is not a good father. Every look he looks at me and every action he takes is malicious..." <

"...He wanted to kill me." Alberto's voice was trembling.

"Can you imagine?" Alberto's voice began to sound a little crazy: "Your father regards you as a monster all the time, and he struggles every day whether to kill you..."

"I don't know why." Alberto said painfully: "I thought I was his son. I don't know why he distrusted me so much, and even hated me. I was almost driven crazy by the looming malice! I must kill him! I want revenge on him!"

Accompanying Alberto's narration, Schiller seemed to see that on a rainy night with thunder and lightning in the Falcone Manor, young Alberto faced the tall Falcone. Falcone held him, as if worried that he was afraid of the thunder, and he held Alberto in his arms.

But the eyes facing away from Alberto were full of deep hatred and madness. The young Alberto was held in his father's arms. He looked out the window at the rainy night, with only fear and helplessness in his eyes, but it was not because of the thunder that lasted all night.