Chapter 2305 Gotham Music Festival (37)

Chapter 2298 Gotham Music Festival (37)

"We have to find a way to get him back to normal, or at least stop." After listening to the rules of the second round of the game, Natasha frowned and said, "No one will allow Schiller to be so seriously injured, even if he wants to."

"His mental illness has occurred, so someone must intervene." Bei Bat also said, "If a patient tells the people around him that I am happy with this, and everyone lets him go, then there will be no need for so many mental hospitals in the world."

Natasha looked at him and asked, "I saw Schiller holding an inhalation aerosol bottle. What do you think is in it?"

"I'm not sure." Bei Bat shook his head and said, "If, as you said, seasickness brings him considerable pain, and this makes his mental state extremely unstable, then this may be a drug to relieve seasickness, but it is not ruled out that he really has respiratory problems, or it is simply used to dilate the trachea and increase oxygen supply."

Natasha rubbed her forehead and said, "Either one will be good for him, right?"

"That's the theory. What do you want to do?"

"There must be all kinds of medicines on this level of cruise ship. I want to find some to see if I can put them in his medicine bottle, at least let him stop and rest."

"Can you make medicine?"

"I used to be a nurse and know how to mix all kinds of simple injections, but I have almost never come into contact with aerosols. Can you?"

"Yes, I can, but I have to go back to the VIP room before the game starts. It's too suspicious that both of us have disappeared for so long."

"Believe me, you look like someone who can stay in the bathroom with me for two hours."

With a look of "here we go again", Natasha walked out of the bathroom and said, "I'll go find the medicine, you pay attention to the gambling, and intervene in time if you find something wrong. I think you can feel the tension of the situation better than anyone else."

Bei Bat looked at her back and nodded. He could indeed see the undercurrent surging under the seemingly calm appearance.

Batman can see that in addition to the gamblers who really got into big trouble, there are many people who participated in the gambling game with ulterior motives. Their purpose is much worse than realizing their wishes. Batman has never been afraid to doubt that this group of people may want everyone on this ship to stay in the sea forever more than anyone else.

No Batman would allow such a thing to happen, so Batman went back to the VIP room. He knew that Schiller, who was in the period of illness, could not be the fuse to ignite the bomb, otherwise the situation would be completely out of control.

On the other side, Natasha walked downstairs along the employee passage. She knew that Stark must have taken this route. Sure enough, she found the information left by Stark in a tea room for employees to rest below.

A note under the water dispenser said "I have something to do downstairs. Ask someone about the previous matter."

Not too stupid, Natasha thought. If someone found out about this wording, they would only think it was a communication between two employees.

Natasha understood the message Stark left for her. The general meaning was that I would go down to find the boat engine, and you stayed up there to catch a tongue and ask for information.

Natasha looked around and found that someone had used this place a few minutes ago, which meant that many employees would come here to take a break, but it was more important to determine who they were.

Natasha could see that there were many strange things about this ship, and many of their employees were not ordinary people, so if the subordinates of the owner of this ship were caught, she might not be able to cope with it.

Besides, the problem had a priority. What the owner of this ship wanted to do was put aside for the time being. Whether it was due to duty or personal feelings, Natasha wanted to target the FBI first.

That's right, even if Natasha didn't know Amanda, she could smell the stench of the hyenas she dealt with all day. She knew that the agents must be hiding in the corner, ready to make the situation of any matter worse to the point where no one could clean up the mess. This was their job.

The mop still stained with water left a blurry water stain in the dim and narrow corridor. The uniformed cleaner adjusted his hat with his hands, clamped the mop handle under his armpit, changed to a hand-held bucket, opened the door of the tool room, and put all the things in one by one.

He was always so unhurried. Although his mind was all on the next task to be performed, he could still instinctively do any work at hand under his disguise.

Finally, after putting everything away, the man sighed, and after relaxing, he felt the urge to urinate. He staggered towards the bathroom. Although he was relaxed, he was always tense in his mind. This was the self-cultivation of an agent.

When he walked to the urinal and unbuttoned his pants, he heard the door open behind him. Through the reflection of the floor, he saw a figure wearing a red shawl. This kind of dress should be a gambler participating in the game.

The agent relaxed again. The second round of the game was about to start. When he was cleaning the toilet, he also encountered many contestants who wanted to relieve themselves before the second round of the game started. They should be out soon.

However, what made the agent feel a little strange was that the toilet closest to the venue was the one he just cleaned, not the current one. This one required an extra turn and at least 100 meters of walking. When there was no queue in the other toilet, why would anyone take the initiative to take a longer route?

Just when he thought of this, he suddenly felt a burning gaze suddenly appear, as if the man had not looked at him before, but now suddenly stared at his back.

His heart was alarmed, his muscles were tensed, his waist and legs were exerted, and at the moment he bent his knees and swung his elbows, a long mop pole nailed him to the wall.

Blood gushed out of his mouth instantly, and the fish that was fixed let out a huh and exhaled from his mouth, struggling desperately to turn his head.

The next second his hair was grabbed, and with two bangs, the close contact between his head and the wall smashed his brow bone and nose bridge.

Blood gushed out of his nose and mouth at the same time, and severe pain came from his body, because the other party did not withdraw the iron rod that pierced his body, but pressed the weapon down, and the organs in his body were instantly messed up beyond recognition.

Both hands loosened at the same time, and the agent fell to the ground, but the blood flowing from his forehead completely covered his eyes. The dizziness caused by the severe pain made his eyes dark. He couldn't see who the other party was at all. He only saw him biting the mouthpiece of the asthma medicine and taking a deep breath.

"Who is Amanda's target?"

The agent felt ridiculous. If the other party wanted to torture him, he shouldn't have been injured so badly. He was about to die and the pain was about to end. In this case, how could he say anything?

"You are different from them." He heard the other party muttering, "You are not assigned to stare at the target that most people stare at. You have a special mission. Who are you looking at?"

The agent held the iron rod that passed through his wound in astonishment. He struggled desperately, but a hand was more stable than him and held the head of the iron rod forcefully. He turned the iron rod upright, and the fish pierced on it kept sliding down due to its own weight.

A large amount of blood choked his lungs, making him unable to shout. One second before he was drowned in his own blood, he heard the other party whisper: "Amanda wants to kill two birds with one stone? Two plans?"

When Schiller's figure appeared on the gambling table again, he finally had time to carefully look at his opponent.

The other party was very strong, with luxuriant hair and fierce eyes. Such a strong man was usually only seen in weightlifting or strongman competitions, and occasionally in the group of dock workers.

But Schiller noticed a detail. The other party had no sunburn marks, which was not common. Summer had just passed. Even ordinary people who commuted to work every day would have traces of sunburn on their exposed limbs. A short month was not enough for the sunburn marks to fade.

Unless he stayed in the room for 24 hours without going out, but his fierce temperament did not look like a homebody.

Schiller wanted to wait, and when his vision blurred again, he could see the true face of the other party.

It didn't take long to wait. The time of awakening was getting shorter and shorter. Just when the edge of Schiller's vision began to ripple again, a crisp bell woke him up.

The gambling game began, and both parties stretched out their arms and the staff took blood.

Everyone rolled up their sleeves and exposed their arms, including Schiller. Now he only had one hand left to support the table.

The staff member who came over picked up the needle and couldn't help but look up at Schiller's pale face and equally bloodless lips, as if he didn't need to lose too much blood, and he was not far from death.

The needle pierced the arms of both parties. The arms were fixed to the table with equipment to prevent the blood collection process from being unstable. The blood of both people flowed into the pump along the hose, and the dark venous blood looked like the best dry red wine.

People rarely have the opportunity to observe how their lives pass, because usually the long process of growth and aging is enough to make people forget all the details and it is difficult to deeply experience the despair of life coming to an end.

The process of blood loss, the concentration of life's decline, by experiencing the long life of human beings in a few minutes, seeing the majestic waves in all the tiny places.

Schiller began to feel more and more dizzy, followed by the excitement that the drugs could no longer suppress. His heart beat too fast, so that no matter how hard he inhaled the aerosol, the boiling blood could not cool down.

Finally, he pressed the 1000 ml button on the remote control.

Schiller's move obviously shocked both the staff and his opponent, so that in addition to explaining the rules, the staff who almost never spoke confirmed with him: "Are you sure? 1000 ml? Once the blood drawing process starts, it will not stop, which may cause your direct death."

"Yes, I'm sure."

Schiller closed his eyes, and when he opened his eyes again, he showed a crazy smile to his opponent.

"Hello, sea."