Schiller kept taking deep breaths, and his words fell into fragments between breaths. But suddenly, he became quiet again, as if the effect of a drug was released, suppressing his excitement again. After a moment of silence, he continued

explain:

"Ordinary people sacrifice their extraordinary talents and live a life of ignorance and confusion, but they are very happy. Madmen have abilities far beyond ordinary people, but they must face madness and chaos all their lives, and it is difficult to understand emotions clearly..."

"It's hard to say which of the two is more unfortunate."

"Originally, I had accepted the reality that I could not have both at the same time, but suddenly one day, a man walked up to me and broke my mind, because he had them all at the same time."

"Batman..."

Schiller opened his eyes in a daze, as if he had seen some hallucinations in the excitement of neural activity. When he spit out the word, it was as if he had chewed up every letter, with no reason.

Malice.

"He has everything, reason and sensibility, logic and intuition, reason and emotion..."

"He can enjoy a high IQ without having to bear the emotional loss caused by extreme rational thinking. He can not only put aside all calculations and focus, but also have a sense of justice that limits his violation of morality..."

"When I met him for the first time, I was sure that he was such a person, a damn lucky guy, God's partial creation..."

Schiller coughed twice more in a low voice, and then said: "But I saw a terrible future in him. Do you know? Do you know?"

"That shocked me, because, judging from this terrible future, he should not have such a high starting point, he should not be a normal person, and should not enjoy everything..."

"What makes me even more puzzled is that he clearly had everything, but how did he waste it all in just a few decades?"

"At the age of 18, he was still just a slightly traumatized genius hero."

"And when he was 40 years old..." Schiller's tone gradually deepened, and then appeared from scratch: "When he was 40 years old, he became a madman like me..."

Schiller gasped again, as if he was fighting against the illusion of fearlessness, and then he showed an ugly smile and said: "Then I understood, it was Batman, it was Batman who made him become like this.

"

"It was Batman who drove him crazy during the most precious twenty years of mankind."

"It was Batman who made Bruce spend twenty years crawling from the sun into the shadows, taking off his armor and putting on a straitjacket."

"It was Batman who made the perfect genius I dreamed of become me."

"When I realized this, it was like I heard the biggest joke in the world, and then I laughed."

"You are crazy." Scott looked at him and said, "You have started talking nonsense. Stop believing in the hallucinations you have seen. This will only aggravate your condition."

"That's what I said, you are much more professional than him." Schiller tried to calm down for a while, and then said: "If he hears this, he will not regard it as nonsense, but will regard it as nonsense."

Memorize every word in the speech, find the abnormalities, and figure out what is going on."

"So, he will never be able to be a psychiatrist!" Schiller said, raising his voice, "Because the first rule of psychiatrists is not to believe a word of the crazy things a mental patient says."

"This is why lunatics all over the world can be psychiatrists, but he can't."

Schiller kept talking intermittently, but Scott didn't understand what he was saying at all. He vaguely noticed that Schiller seemed to be talking about the person chasing them, but he didn't know that Schiller and the Batman

What does it matter?

After Schiller said this code, Scott became even more entangled. He always felt that Schiller was implying something, but based on this rule, he should not listen to Schiller now, because he is completely

A madman.

Scott has seen countless criminals who had various reactions during drug interrogations. Some people refused to speak, as if the drugs had no effect at all, and some people still led the interrogator in circles, and all questions returned to the original point.

.

But Schiller, he created a new style.

He would pick up another topic, and then start complaining, cursing, and lamenting to himself. He was indeed being interrogated, but the object of his interrogation might be an illusion he had seen, which had nothing to do with reality.

In the following period, Scott tried to use the interrogation techniques he had learned to bring him back to the topic, but it had no effect at all.

What he achieved was that Schiller changed topics one after another, using vicious words that Scott had never heard or thought of, and scolded some people whom Scott didn't know at all.

To be honest, Scott never thought in his life that English could have such a rich vocabulary of curses and sarcasm.

At first, he regretted that he did not bring a recording device, but later, he felt that this secret scene was perfect. If the person involved heard it, they might encounter a more terrifying pursuit.

As a result, he came to the conclusion that probably what Schiller said was all nonsense from beginning to end. He was not the organizer or leader of the Central American revolution, he was just a mentally disturbed maniac talking nonsense.

Scott stood up, turned to Schiller and said: "You'd better say the same thing during the interrogation in Washington, so they can give you a diagnosis of mental illness and you can go to a psychiatric hospital for treatment.

Instead of being sent to jail."

Schiller finally became quieter. He sat there with his head down, his expression dark and unclear. Scott bent down and said to him: "Stand up, professor, we have to get out of here."

"No, no, you shouldn't rush me like this." Schiller swallowed and said, "You never got to the point. This is contrary to your professional agent standards."

Scott squatted down helplessly, looked at Schiller's face, and asked him with the patience of a mental patient: "So, professor, what do you want me to ask? Or what do you want to answer?"

He shook his head and said, "Haven't you noticed yet? I don't need to ask. You can say whatever you want. Normal people can't interfere with you because you are a lunatic."

"Indeed, I am a madman." Schiller turned to look at Scott and said: "I have introduced you to many of my friends, but I forgot one person, my favorite child, his name is Jason

.”

Schiller stood up from the ground staggeringly, and Scott breathed a sigh of relief. He turned around and walked forward, saying as he walked: "Professor, you are finally willing to move forward, we have to get out of here quickly..."

"

But the next second, he felt Schiller leaning up from behind, and before he could react, a tie strangled his neck.

Schiller said in Scott's ear while exerting force: "Jason...Jason...a good boy, he can always remember every word I say."

"Uh uh uh!!!"

The pale knuckles became bloodless due to exertion, and the dark ribbed tie was deeply embedded in his Adam's apple. After Schiller let go, Scott fell to the ground quietly, but Schiller

He didn't just leave.

As if he didn't know what he had just done, he knelt down, looked at Scott and said: "Forgive me for the rude words I just used, I am definitely not speaking ill of my friends behind their backs, every one of them

They are all good people.”

Schiller stretched out his hand, covered Scott's eyes, pushed his protruding eyeballs back, and closed his eyelids.

Then, he stood up, leaned against the wall of the passage, and staggered towards the depths, leaving only a deep voice echoing:

"But I have a sharp blade specially designed to deal with good guys. It's accurate, elegant, and fatal in one blow."
Chapter completed!