Chapter 1152

Schiller walked into Jonathan's room with big strides, looked at Jonathan with a solemn face, and said: "The nurse said you have manic expressions again, and even have tendencies to hurt people. What's going on? Haven't you already been given newspapers?"

Jonathan was pacing back and forth in the center of the room, appearing very restless. Schiller just walked closer by one step, and he appeared somewhat vigilant. But after discovering it was Schiller, he relaxed slightly and opened his mouth to say: "I've really had enough!!"

"A country bumpkin who ran out from who knows what poor and remote place actually dares to come and provoke me?! Just wait, I'll let him know sooner or later that his little bit of three-legged cat kung fu, in my eyes, isn't worth mentioning!"

"What's wrong again?" Schiller looked at him and asked.

Jonathan said angrily: "Last night, an idiot who called himself Professor V called. He said he was the best chemist in the world, and also said he would definitely prove to me that the path of pharmaceutical chemistry wouldn't work at all, and also said I was the kind of mediocre person most common on the street!"

Schiller froze for a moment and then said: "Professor V, who is that again?"

"Who knows? He has never been in the newspaper at all, and definitely hasn't done any decent cases! So, I said he was a country bumpkin who ran out from a poor and remote place, estimated he has never read a newspaper, yet dares to be so arrogant. It's simply ridiculous!"

"You already said he hasn't been in the newspaper, why do you have to care about him? And, he only dares to call, not even daring to show his face, which is just showing off with his mouth anyway."

Jonathan snorted coldly and said: "Now really, any cat or dog dares to call themselves a professor! No, I have to see what he relies on to dare to be so arrogant? Give me a discharge certificate, I'm going to meet him!"

"No, your mental state is unstable now. After going out, in case you are stimulated by something, it will ruin the hospital's reputation."

"Alright, I know, aren't you just worried that I'll go find trouble with Batman?" Jonathan rolled his eyes and said: "Rest assured, my target this time isn't your proud student. I'm not interested in him now, but I must make that idiot who provoked me pay the price!"

Seeing Jonathan's manic state, Schiller sighed, grabbed the medical record book from the side, and began to write. While writing, he exhorted: "It seems that if I don't let you be discharged, you're going to break out of prison."

"However, we have to make a three-point agreement. You are solving a private grudge, you shouldn't incidentally poison the whole city, right? The water purification device in my office hasn't been installed yet..."

Jonathan sneered disdainfully and said: "Who does he think he is? How much face does he have to make me go to such lengths?"

"Alright, alright, I know you are the most powerful chemist." Schiller said perfunctorily. While speaking, he tore off that piece of paper, handed it to Jonathan, and then continued: "I heard that quite a few guys who have been in the newspaper have entered Cat Getan. You'd better be careful."

Jonathan took the certificate Schiller opened, walked toward the door, and said disdainfully: "The ones who should be careful are them."

After sending Jonathan away, Schiller breathed a sigh of relief. He returned to his office, and just as his butt sat on the chair, he heard a loud "boom."

Schiller instinctively turned his head to look out the window, only to see a huge mushroom cloud rising on Cat Getan's skyline. And judging from the direction, that should be the Wei En Chemical Plant.

Less than half an hour later, Gordon brought Joker Jack and arrived at Arkham Asylum, threw him on the ground, and then said: "Thank the broccoli. The ground of the chemical plant was destroyed and couldn't be worked on. This lunatic didn't blow up the employees, just leveled the chemical plant."

Jack lay on the ground and didn't get up. Until Gordon left, he stood up with a smile and looked at Schiller, saying: "Do you know? I did a great—great good deed!"

Before Schiller could ask, Jack started stomping his feet and cursing again. From his fragmented words, Schiller finally understood what was going on. The matter still had to start from the broccoli invading Cat Getan.

Huge broccoli growing in the city would definitely destroy the ground. And all buildings were built on the ground. After the ground was destroyed, many buildings became dangerous houses and had to be repaired.

However, to repair houses, one had to have construction materials. To have construction materials, one had to have heavy trucks to transport materials. In the past few days, truck drivers were almost busy to the point of madness, basically all working for several nights without sleeping. Jack was no exception.

Ever since his little bat hurt his heart last time, Jack decided to have a cold war with him. He believed that in the days without him, Batman would definitely be very lonely, and maybe even hide under the covers and cry.

But he could take this opportunity to earn a large sum of money. By the time Batman came to the slums again, he could use banknotes to bury Batman.

Thinking that such a day would come, Jack was even more full of energy. But just last night, he was running a night shift when he suddenly hit something.

I believe many people also know that truck drivers running night shifts almost all speed. Jack was especially crazy in this regard. Not only overloaded, but also speeding. Not only speeding, but he also drove a heavy truck like a spaceship preparing to take off. The only difference from a rocket was that he didn't need a countdown.

Under these circumstances, hitting something was very fatal. Jack's truck was already a bit broken. As it happened, the thing he hit had quite good quality, got rolled under the tire, and stuck the tire. The car couldn't move on the spot.

Jack got out of the car to look, and was even more furious. What he hit was a person, but to be precise, it wasn't a person, because it was a doll spliced together from human limbs. The human limb part basically didn't have much strength, but the connecting parts were abnormally sturdy, jamming Jack's truck hub until it was deformed.

Jack's temper couldn't be said to be gentle and polite, it could only be said that it exploded at a touch.

Originally, night shifts were all urgent items, urged urgently, and earned a lot. Once the car broke down, not only was the cargo not transported, but he might also offend the single-owner. Jack was angry the more he thought about it after enduring for a while, and felt more at a loss the more he retreated.

He dragged that doll out from under the tire, reassembled the limbs that had almost been crushed into meat paste, and investigated the welding part of the connecting parts.

Then, he determined that the production cycle of this kind of terrifying doll must be very long. That is to say, the person who created him must have a specialized base to store all kinds of spare parts.

After dawn, Jack found a towing company to tow the truck away. But when he returned to the base of the truck drivers, he heard that quite a few drivers running night shifts encountered this kind of doll. In one night, there were at least seven or eight such accidents.

After Jack followed the locations these truck drivers said and found them, he checked all the dolls and then discovered that they had a common characteristic, that is, the degree of decay of the limbs was relatively high, almost already unusable.

Jack knew that this was probably some kind of ritual. The creator of these dolls deliberately threw them on the highway, making use of the trucks driving at high speed to crush these dolls that had no utilization value into meat paste, just like reporting a piece of trash for free.

Jack also discovered that among all the limbs, the one with the highest degree of freshness was the brain. That is to say, these dolls were clear and conscious before being crushed.

But the connecting parts on their legs were all removed, which made them unable to escape, only able to watch helplessly as a truck driving at high speed rushed toward them, and then, being rolled under the tire, hearing the sound of their own skulls being crushed.

Without a doubt, this was a kind of sick hobby belonging to the murderer. Jack could imagine that the creator of the doll must have promised their works that as long as you work well, you can get back your original body. But when they dedicated their lives to their master, they could only be hung on the truck hub, dying without even a residue left.

Analyzing these accident locations, as well as the degree of decay of all the corpses, Jack soon deduced that the base of this doll maker was exactly at the famous Wei En Chemical Plant.

This made Jack even more furious. The other party actually dared to pick a chemical plant with Wei En in its name as their base. This was simply a shameless invasion! Batman still owed him a hundred dollars, and he didn't even have a building named Wei En as a base!

"So, you brought bombs and blew the Wei En Chemical Plant into a flat ground?" Schiller looked at Jack and asked. Jack rubbed his nose vigorously and said very unhappily: "Pity my those bombs, that was the result I collected for a long time, originally prepared for my good friend Batman!"

"This damn idiot, a lunatic with no taste! Actually wasted so many of my good goods!!" Jack started muttering and cursing again.

Schiller sighed slightly and asked: "Then did you blow him to death?"

"How would I know." Jack said unpleasantly. But following that, he curled his lips and said: "Whether he died or not, his works are definitely all finished. However, I'm afraid this is even more uncomfortable for him than taking his life."

Suddenly, Jack calmed down again. He used a low and slow tone and said: "I know very clearly what kind of people this group of lunatics are. This group of guys who claim to be artists, but are actually mediocre people and idiots, value their some worthless collections the most."

"They enjoy manipulating other people's fates. After every artwork is created, they will definitely arrange dramatic fates for him—when to be born, when to die, in what way to die..."

"Artworks of the same type must have the same time of death and way of death. They will never allow the works they painstakingly created to not complete their predetermined fate."

"And now, a huge explosion blew them all into the sky. 'Boom,' half a lifetime of hard work went down the drain!" A kind of cruel smile appeared on Jack's face, and he laughed lowly and said:

"Dolls made of exquisite female limbs and dolls made of the limbs of rough dock workers were all stirred together, no longer distinguishing between each other... It's really sad to think about it. If their master saw this scene, maybe he would cry from anger, hahahahahaha!"

Schiller looked at Jack silently. Clearly, Jack was the kind of murderer who was good at torturing other serial killers, and killing them had to be heart-wrenching.

Schiller arranged for Jack to be in the ward where Jonathan originally lived. That was a special ward. Once there was any problem, doctors and nurses could arrive at the fastest speed.

Afterward, Schiller went to help check those crazy citizens who hadn't recovered yet. After being busy for a day, that night was unusually quiet. Jack took his medicine obediently and fell asleep early. Schiller thought he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

As a result, less than two hours after he sank into a dream, he only heard a loud "bang" from upstairs, followed by the sound of glass shattering.

Schiller got up from the bed in a daze, pushed open the window, looked up, and saw a huge figure with a crocodile head and a crocodile tail jumping onto the balcony, holding two kitchen knives, and roaring inside.

"You damn guy!!! Blew up the chemical plant! Caused me to lose my job! I'm going to kill you!!!!"