mtl008 Chapter 3287 Bloody New City (36)
Chapter 3287 Bloody New City (36)
Chapter 3287 Bloodshed in New City (Thirty-Six)
"Don't look at me like that. They eat a lot of meat and fish and become fat. Proper vomiting is good for their health." Schiller said, ignoring Batman's disapproving look.
"Is this why you poisoned others?"
"What do you mean by poisoning? Don't say such harsh words!" Schiller's voice was a little higher, but he seemed to be afraid of attracting the attention of the people around him, so he lowered his voice and said, "It doesn't have to be chemical poisons. Isn't poisoning from eating poisonous mushrooms also poisoning?"
"But they are all gourmets. Could it be that they can't tell the difference between different types of mushrooms?"
"Then use chemical poisons on non-toxic mushrooms. After they have gone through a lot of identification, they will still be poisoned."
Batman was speechless, so he just said: "Just tell me what you want to do."
"I can't tell you now, but you'll know soon."
When Schiller says "soon," he usually means more than "soon." Batman learns this upon arriving home, when he receives a letter in his mailbox.
The largest casino in Gotham, "Firs East Coast Paradise", sent a letter of invitation to all members to place a bet. The content of the bet was to bet on who would be the next criminal to escape from Arkham Asylum.
Batman's head was buzzing when he saw this letter. This world has finally gone crazy.
There is even an odds sheet attached. The one with the lowest odds right now is Bane, and everyone thinks he can succeed in escaping the prison because he is really strong and plays a leading role in almost every criminal operation. He will definitely be involved in the next prison break.
The ones with higher odds are those that have nothing special about them, such as the Riddler. Although guessing riddles is fun, he is a skinny man, and the chances of him escaping from Arkham on his own are too low.
Some of the more conventional ones, like the Mad Hatter, do not have an advantage in physical fitness, but have special abilities. A group of people are particularly optimistic about such people and lower their odds.
Batman couldn't comment on this bet.
Yes, among Gotham's upper class, crime is indeed an investment, but that's just gossip at some dances, and it's the kind of thing they talk about in low whispers while dancing. No one would talk about this topic on the news.
Now Phils has completely given up pretending, right?
But don't tell me, don't tell me. The human nature of pursuing excitement is engraved in the bones, especially for the upper class who have money but nowhere to spend it, they like to play this kind of game that involves life and death the most.
Batman turned over the invitation and found that there was more than one bet, but this one was the biggest.
Other information includes the time of the jailbreak, the location of the crime after the jailbreak, the number of deaths in the crime, the number of police officers dispatched, etc.
The most outrageous thing is that they also bet on things related to Batman, such as Batman arriving within a few minutes after the attack begins, what equipment Batman will use, and who Batman will catch first...
Browsing through item after item, Batman's fingers gripping the invitation gradually tightened.
It is impossible for any person with a conscience to not feel angry when seeing someone taking pleasure in taking human lives.
But what made Batman feel even more sad and angry was that he knew they would be very interested and would flock to participate in this exciting game to satisfy their extremely empty desires.
Batman took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. He began to think about Schiller's role in this matter.
Schiller was walking through a luxuriously decorated corridor and came to a splendid private room. A young man with dazzling golden hair and emerald green eyes was hugging two hot girls and directing the waiter to pour wine into his glass.
Seeing Schiller coming in, he stood up enthusiastically, shook hands with him, and then said excitedly: "It's perfect, sir! Within an hour after the invitation was sent, more than 70 people called me."
“Are they all regulars here?”
"Yes, they are all very fat fish." The young man laughed arrogantly, and then said, "Now my brother can't compete with me! My father will just kick that useless bastard far away!"
"Calm down, Mr. Firth," Schiller said. "This is not enough. We don't want the regulars. We want everyone. I mean everyone in Gotham's upper class."
"Of course!" Firth said in a raised voice, "It's only been an hour. Once the word gets out, I'm sure they'll all get involved."
Schiller didn't seem to be infected by his excitement. He just found a chair and sat down, then said: "The next important thing is to prevent them from manipulating the gambling. They will definitely do this, right?"
Firth leaned against the wall and said, "Of course. As far as I know, Tok has several masters, and they will definitely lend a hand."
"What are you going to do?"
"Don't underestimate me, Mr. Schiller. If I were as useless as my brother, I wouldn't be able to take over this casino from my father."
After saying that, he clapped his hands. A door opened on the side of the box, and a slightly fat figure was escorted in. It was Tork, the director of Arkham Asylum.
The fat man was trembling, and before Fels could say anything, he began to cry and beg for mercy, saying that he would only work for the Fels family from now on. But from the skillfulness of his movements, it can be seen that he has said this to many people.
And Fields simply took a knife from the apple next to him, tapped Tok's cheek with the side of the knife, and then stabbed Tok's throat.
With a sizzling sound, blood splattered everywhere. The dean ended his tenure and his life at the same time.
Schiller sat in a chair and watched all this without any emotion. Firth glanced at him from the corner of his eye, then turned away, as if he was disappointed that he could not see the scene he wanted to see.
"Who are you going to replace him with?" Schiller asked. "You'd better be 100% sure that the new dean cannot be bribed."
"What do you think of me going there myself?"
"If you want your brother to laugh at your funeral, you can do this."
"What about you? What if I let you go?"
Schiller said impatiently, "I don't want to go around in circles with you here, Mr. Fields. Your irrelevant suspicion will only slow you down and make you miss the best opportunity."
"Okay." Fells shrugged and said, "It's outrageous to bet on a criminal escaping from prison. It's simply trampling on the face of the federal government. In order to prevent such vicious cases from happening, the Gotham Police Department must do its best."
"James Gordon, what do you think?" Fields said, spreading his hands. "I heard that the anti-terrorist team he just formed is pretty powerful. If we transfer all of them over there, it should be enough to deal with those people."
"How are you going to move them over? Do you think our stubborn new mayor would agree?"
"That's a real problem," Firth nodded. "But, sir, if you want to get your high commission, you have to help me find a way, don't you?"
"I can only give you an idea. You have to do the specifics." Schiller sighed and said, "Chief Gordon and Mayor Napier have one thing in common, which is that they are kind enough."
"You don't need to do anything extra. Just let them know about it and dump Toke's body in front of the police station. Let them know that if they don't stop it, many people will die. They will naturally do what you want them to do."
"Good idea." Firth snapped his fingers and said, "Then you go and deliver the body."
"I hope you won't regret it." Schiller stood up and said.
Half an hour later, Gordon saw the body hanging in the lobby of the police station. Everyone rushed out of the lobby in a panic, and some young police officers with little experience had already started vomiting.
Gordon's face was darker than the bottom of a pot. He roared loudly: "What does Phils mean?! No one has dared to provoke me like this for many years! Nightwing! Lead the team to surround that shitty casino immediately!!!"
Now it was Fields' turn to have a face as black as the bottom of a pot.
He hurried downstairs, but the guests had already been driven out by the police. Gordon was standing in the middle of the casino lobby.
"Gordon, are you fucking crazy?!!"
As a result, there was a "click" sound, and Gordon directly opened the safety of the pistol, and the black muzzle of the gun pointed directly at Fields' forehead.
Fields was stunned. Gordon just raised his lips and said to Fields through gritted teeth: "If you don't give me an explanation, I will kill you right here! Even Jesus can't stop you!"
Phils was a little confused. No, his casino was legal. Gordon had come to check a few times before, but he couldn't find anything and left in disgrace. Later, he almost never came, and when he saw him outside, he would leave without saying a word.
What's wrong with him? Is he crazy???
Fields suddenly realized that maybe there was something wrong with the body he asked Schiller to throw away?
"James, calm down. Do you want to shoot a law-abiding citizen?!"
"Law-abiding?! Cutting up the director of Arkham Asylum like a mop and hanging him in the lobby of the Gotham Police Department is called law-abiding???"
Phils opened his mouth. He really wanted to say that Tok was intact when he left his place. But he suddenly thought, if he was intact when he left his place, then who turned him into a mop?
If you think about it this way, Gordon doesn't seem to be a problem.
"Listen, James, there's a misunderstanding here." Fells held out his hand. "I promise I have nothing to do with this case."
"Then do you know what this mop is used for cleaning?!" Gordon threw two pieces of blood-red things at Fields' face.
When Fields picked them up, he saw that they were two chips covered in blood, the same kind used in Fields Casino.
He took a deep breath and was about to shout out the name, but reason stopped him. If he really said the name Schiller, it would prove that he was related to the case.
"I'm sorry, James. This may be someone under my command acting on his own initiative. I promise you, I will investigate it thoroughly." Fields had to use his last resort, "I'm very sorry for what happened to Mr. Tok. I can give some humanitarian donations to his family."
"I'm sorry, too." Gordon looked at him coldly and said, "Casino chips were found on the victim. I have to ask you to go back and cooperate with the investigation... Do it!"
Before Phils could even call for security, Nightwing flew over and kicked him down. Instantly, seven or eight big men rushed over and pinned him to the ground. When the casino security rushed over in a hurry, the handcuffs were already on him.
Fields stared at Gordon fiercely and said, "You are done, James Gordon. You dare to arrest me?! The Fields family will not let you go!!"
When he was escorted past the gate, he saw Schiller standing by the door. But behind Schiller stood another familiar figure, his stupid brother.
Fields' face turned pale instantly.
My computer is broken again!! Microsoft, can you do anything but go bankrupt?