mtl008 Chapter 3870 The Nameless Bat (4)
Chapter 3870 The Nameless Bat (4)
Chapter 3870 The Nameless Bat (Forty)
Looking at the Chinese characters on the paper, Schiller slowly stood up from the table. Natasha, unable to hear a response, called out to him:
"Schiller? Schiller, are you still listening?"
“He’s coming for me.” Schiller’s voice was unusually low. “This is a clue he showed me specifically.”
Natasha paused for a moment, then asked, "Why?"
“I’m thinking,” Schiller said, tapping his earpiece lightly. “Of all the Schillers, very few exhibit Chinese characteristics. It’s certainly not arrogance, because he looks like a vampire living in a medieval castle. So it can only be greed—his origin story and eating habits are the easiest ways to reveal that Schiller is a native Chinese speaker.”
"You mean he's the mastermind behind it all?"
"No, it's just that the other party learned some information about me through him, so they used this method to pass on clues to me."
What did he tell you?
“That’s not important.” Schiller shook his head slightly, not telling Natasha the name Brainiac. He simply said, “This lead may not be correct, and may be highly misleading, but it is undoubtedly telling me that he has his eye on me.”
“Tell me what it is.” Natasha’s tone grew colder, seemingly unwilling to accept Schiller’s concealment.
“Investigate copycats.” Schiller seemed not to hear him and continued, “Investigate the victims who died at the hands of copycats; they must have something in common.”
"Do you think this case was committed by a copycat?"
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you to investigate. The sample size is sufficient. As long as Antonio shares a common trait with everyone else before him, we can identify the killer.”
Even communicating across a universe, Natasha could sense a danger signal through Schiller's tone. Based on her interactions with the agent over this time, if Natasha had to compare him to an animal, it wouldn't be a lion, a gray wolf, a large predator with sharp teeth and claws, or a poisonous insect, but an eagle.
He circled for a long time, searching aimlessly, hovering in one spot until his wings fluttered in the gale, precisely distinguishing whether what was rolling on the dark green grass was clods of mud blown by the wind or his prey. Then, when he swooped down, no one could escape his sharp claws.
Sitting in front of an office computer searching the web isn't a signal to hunt, nor is shooting Luther with a sniper rifle. Now, Natasha hears the howling wind through the electronic static of the communications, certain he's begun his descent. And his prey will soon understand—the eagle is God's bullet.
The overwhelming sense of danger completely drowned out the original conversation. That fleeting association was enough to make Natasha tense. She heard herself say, "I'll investigate. What do you plan to do?"
“He has a weakness,” Schiller’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. “He can’t hide himself forever. The rabbit will soon emerge from its burrow.”
The call was disconnected. As the busy tone reached Natasha's ears, she realized they both had the same thought. It wasn't unusual; in fact, it was quite plausible, because the mastermind was like a rabbit digging holes everywhere.
First, he tried every means to weaken Batman in the Arkham Knight universe, and then he committed a series of murders in the main universe. These actions were not without purpose; as the saying goes, a cunning rabbit has three burrows, and the more rabbit holes he dug, the less likely he was to be found.
Look at the current tense standoff between the Penguin and Gordon. If Natasha told them now that the mastermind might be a cyber ghost, they'd think they were dreaming.
Chaotic situations can lead to misjudgments: anger at the loss of interests, sympathy for the innocent victims, despair at the collapse of the situation and one's own powerlessness... all these things can blind people, making the originally astute hunter blind, and no longer able to find the trace of the cunning rabbit.
Natasha took a deep breath. Okay, at least she had a clue to a rabbit hole. But she needed to clear the weeds by the door first—the Penguin and Gordon's argument was starting up again.
Natasha drew her pistol from her waist.
"boom!"
The two separated instantly; one hid behind the sofa, and the other crawled under the coffee table. Heavily armed bodyguards stormed in, at least twenty guns aimed at the female agent's head.
“I really don’t have time to play your games,” Natasha said. “Antonio didn’t commit suicide; it’s very likely the work of a copycat of the Eden Killer. Now, I need to conduct an investigation, and you must cooperate. Understand?”
"Does the CIA have the right to point fingers here?!" the Penguin shouted. "Are you saying that damned assassin could easily storm into my manor and kill people?! You're talking complete nonsense! You bitch!"
Before he could even finish his last word, he saw the red-haired figure appear like an arrow behind the nearest armed bodyguard, and then, with a very crisp "crack!", the bodyguard's neck twisted at an abnormal angle.
Immediately following were the widow's sting bullets fired, and the three behind him fell to the ground with a thud. The wounds were an unnatural black, and the neurotoxin would kill them within ten seconds.
"Bang!" A shot ripped a bloody hole in the forehead of the black bodyguard on the left. Immediately following was an elbow strike and a sideways over-the-shoulder throw; the sound of his shoulder blade shattering upon impact was horrifying. Before his scream could even fully escape, Black Widow's pale hand gripped the bodyguard's own pistol and shoved it into his mouth—"Bang!"
"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!" Someone fired at her. But the female agent nimbly rolled away, landing behind the sofa where the Penguin was hiding. Before the gun on the umbrella the other person was carrying could be aimed, Natasha snatched it and slapped it across the Penguin's arm with a "whoosh!"
"Ouch!" the penguin let out a miserable scream.
Taking advantage of his momentary lapse in attention, Natasha held a dagger to his neck. The Penguin screamed in agony, "James Gordon! Where the hell did you find this Medusa?!"
Gordon was clearly stunned by Natasha's skills. The last person he'd seen achieve such a crushing victory against multiple opponents was Batman, but he knew Batman wasn't always like that; he occasionally stumbled in unexpected encounters.
“I’ll repeat myself, I don’t have time to waste with you!” Natasha said coldly. “Give me Antonio’s file right now! And you, James Gordon—I’m only talking to you politely because of the police chief, but if you don’t understand me, I’ll try another way—” Her voice suddenly rose, “Give me the fucking victim’s file!”
“Calm down, Natasha. Even if you are a CIA agent, we should…”
“I said—give me the victim's information. Do you understand (in Russian)?!”
"Oh, God!" Gordon and the Penguin exclaimed in unison. They raised their hands, one after the other: "We got it!"
Natasha holstered her gun and shoved the Penguin. The Penguin scrambled to his feet and waved to the bodyguards to dispose of the body. Gordon, still in shock, slowly crawled out from under the coffee table, his hand still raised in mid-air.
"Are you really a CIA agent?" Gordon couldn't help but ask.
"Do you really think the CIA would hire someone named Natasha Romanov?" Natasha countered.
“They usually don’t… but they’re not usually very ‘usual’.” Gordon wiped his sweat. “Actually, I had my suspicions when I first heard the name.”
“You’re right to suspect,” Natasha said, no longer willing to explain. “Batman sent me here. Give me the information.”
“Batman?! You mean him… oh God… this can’t be real, right? He… oh God…”
While Gordon was still marveling at the situation, Natasha had already taken Antonio's biographical information and his recent confession under torture from the Penguin's subordinates.
“Back to Gotham Police Department,” Natasha told Gordon. “I have to find out what the connection is between these copycat victims. There must be some connection.”
The police car quickly drove back to Gotham Police Department. Gordon had to sift through a huge pile of files to get some useful case information for Natasha. He couldn't help but joke to himself, "I never imagined I'd betray my country in this way."
“As long as the killer isn’t Russian, or I’m an accomplice, you’re not considered a traitor.” Natasha flipped through the files without looking up. “Is this all the mayor’s information is?”
“Of course not, it’s precisely because there’s so much information that I don’t know what to give you,” Gordon sighed. “There are many police stations that don’t have this information; you might have to go to the city office or the press center to find it.”
“Have your people find him for me,” Natasha said, sitting down at the table. “I need an assistant—intelligent, quick-witted, and experienced in paperwork. Preferably a girl.”
Then, without saying a word, she began reviewing the files. Gordon was helpless, because the police department truly couldn't handle the current situation. Whether it was the Eden Killer or his copycats, the police couldn't catch them, let alone identify them. It was already a blessing that someone was willing to step forward and do something, or at least show that they were trying.
Gordon called Schiller.
“Yes, Professor. Now, wherever the police officers go, they cause a commotion, and those damn hyenas with their keen sense of smell will definitely spread rumors that someone has died somewhere. So, I'll have to trouble you to go to the City Hall. By the way, bring Nimosini to the police station; the Agent may need her help.”
Soon, a girl with messy, bright orange hair appeared in Gordon's office with the documents Schiller had found at the city hall. Upon seeing the piles of paper documents filling the office, she couldn't help but complain, "When are you planning to bring the police department into the modern world? What's wrong with electronic offices?"
"The biggest problem is that it's not safe enough," Gordon said, repeating the same old cliché.
“Yes, especially since your daughter is a top hacker,” Nemosini said without looking up. She sat down opposite Natasha and, with just a quick glance, knew what stage Natasha’s investigation was at. She remained silent, simply picking up the documents beside her and beginning to read.
She flipped through the documents so quickly that Gordon felt she wasn't even reading them properly. The files at her side vanished with an uncanny speed. About half an hour later, Nimosini said, "I think I know what's going on."
Natasha looked up, and the two women exchanged a glance, then simultaneously pushed their respective documents forward. Gordon stepped forward and saw that both documents bore the same name:
"Draft resolution on matters related to the development of the Motalin Nature Reserve?"
"So far, all the victims of copycat crimes have participated in the drafting and implementation of this bill to varying degrees, including mayors and judges. Antonio has also commented on the protesters who are trying to stop the bill in an unfriendly and sarcastic tone on his show."
Gordon's eyes flashed; he seemed to know who the copycat was. He immediately pulled out his phone and yelled into the receiver, "Go find Poison Ivy Pamela Eisley right now!"