Chapter 1180: The Cry of the Lamb (Part 9)

In the completely dark prison corridor, security personnel wearing night vision goggles pushed a heavy prison cage forward.

The sound of tires rolling over the smooth tile floor made a dull noise, and the sound of chains colliding with the bars of the cage was like intermittent wailing.

There were no lights or light sources in the corridor, and there were no windows at the end of the corridor. This was a completely sealed dark space, so people without night vision equipment couldn't see anything.

The prison cage entered the elevator again. There were no buttons or joysticks in the elevator; everything was controlled remotely by people.

The entire transportation process was too silent, condensing an atmosphere of terror. But it wasn't the prisoners who felt fear, but the escort personnel who thought about what it meant to need to transport prisoners in such a harsh way.

Silence, silence, and more silence. The roar of the elevator operation was not covered by any sound, clearly visible. The elevator door opened, the escort team continued to move forward, until they arrived in front of a special door.

There was finally a little light here. This door was very special. It was not an ordinary single door, but two doors opening opposite each other like a fence gate. There was a red indicator light above the gate. It was precisely this light that brought extremely faint light.

One half of the gate was opened, the prison cage was aimed at the gate again, and the escort personnel performed the same process again. And when Schiller stepped into this special room, he saw a person sitting opposite the long table in the center. That was William Denechet.

But Schiller's eyes didn't stay on him for too long, but passed over him and looked at the wall behind him.

There was nothing on the wall, but Schiller's gaze passed over the camouflaged wall and fell on the group of people watching the situation in the room.

"He sees us." Dai Weisi said.

In the dimly lit room, several rows of movie theater-like seats were placed, extending from low to high, gradually backward.

And this time, Dai Weisi was not sitting in the center of the seat. Sitting in the very center of the first row was a thin black woman.

"Of course he can see us." The black woman's voice sounded, with a hint of sharpness in the low tone, and some complex emotions that were hard to detect.

"I have long admired Schiller Rodriguez, not just his great fame as a psychologist. Perhaps, would you like to hear the story of his other identity?"

Dai Weisi turned to look at this black woman with some interest. He said: "Amanda, it's already this time, don't keep us in suspense. We are actually all curious, why did you choose Schiller?"

Dai Weisi turned his head back, looked at the scene in the room through the one-way glass, touched his chin with his fingers, and said: "I know, you have borne a lot of pressure for this. Many people don't want you to do this. You have paid too much for Schiller."

"The high-level intellectuals who know about this plan don't agree with this matter. They feel that this is a challenge to their class."

"And when Schiller was involved in the incident in Central America, many people wanted him to disappear just like that. In order to save him, you also paid a lot of price."

"We are all curious, what do you value him for?"

"You only know that he is a famous psychologist, but you don't know that when he was young, he used to pursue various serial killers around the world, observing and studying them." Amanda's voice sounded.

"Perhaps, he held some kind of ideal, wanting to thoroughly solve these cancer cells born in human society, wanting to find the answer to this unsolvable problem." Amanda slowly narrowed her eyes and said.

"When he was observing serial killers, I was also observing him. Over decades, through unremitting pursuit, he established a club of serial killers, became the master who controlled them, became the god of madmen, and the shepherd of lambs."

Amanda slowly closed her eyes. The light that suddenly lit up in the room in front of her illuminated the cold expression on her face. She said again: "But in my opinion, he is the criminal himself, not their master, and will never become a qualified shepherd."

"I know, he is trying to control those criminals, but his method of controlling them is to let that group of madmen chase a crazier peer, let serial killers regard him as a high mountain, let them always want to climb and surpass."

"But this is actually not an effective method at all." Amanda shook her head gently and said: "When he is there, the lambs keep quiet out of respect, but if he is not there, those who once chased him all want to replace him."

"A shepherd is a person, not a sheep. They cannot mix with the sheep, cannot let this group of born cruel madmen think that their master is their peer."

"To become a true shepherd, one must make them feel pain deep into the bone marrow. Regardless of whether the shepherd has waved the whip, they will be terrified and flustered, and will never be able to raise the thought of replacing them."

"Is this what you are doing, right?" Dai Weisi looked at Amanda and said.

Amanda didn't admit it, nor did she deny it. She just stared at the situation in the room and said: "There is nothing that can prove my correctness more than letting a lamb wearing the coat of a god lower his proud head."

Dai Weisi lowered his eyelids, cleared his throat, and said: "According to information from the FBI, Schiller may have some abilities beyond common sense. Now our confinement measures for him may not be useful."

Amanda shook her head again and said: "You still don't understand this group of madmen. The crazier they are, the more fragile they are. They want to let their souls stand up, therefore, they are never afraid to let their bodies kneel down."

"For the sake of victory in thought, they will even actively exclude all external interference to ensure that the environment for discussion is pure."

"They don't disdain using brute force to break the situation at all. That is proving that their thoughts are not as great as others, and they will only be annoyed and swing their fists."

Amanda turned her head to look at Dai Weisi and said: "The strict restraint measures you formulated actually have no use. If he doesn't want to come here, you can't catch him at all. And since he has already come here, before he gets the answer he wants, no torture will force him to leave."

Dai Weisi shrugged and said: "I'm just doing my duty, Amanda. You have to be clear, how many people are watching this plan. You won't let them down, right?"

Amanda turned her head back, so Dai Weisi didn't see the trace of disgust that flashed across her eyes and brows. Both of them cast their eyes on the room behind the wall.

Schiller's mask was not opened. He still couldn't speak. William handed him a stack of paper and a pen, letting him write down what he wanted to say with his handcuffed hands.

"Hello, Professor Rodriguez, we meet again. How have you been these past few days?" William looked at Schiller with a smile. He was asking knowing the answer.

In the previous week, Schiller had experienced complete sensory deprivation.

Although the time limit was one week, according to reliable experimental data analysis, in a person's thinking, the time of loneliness and darkness experienced might be about 20 times the real time, which means Schiller had experienced about 5 months of lonely torture.

"I'm fine." Schiller wrote on the paper.

"It seems that your mental state is far from reaching the limit, which makes me feel very surprised, because among the criminals who came here with you, three have already gone completely crazy. We are comforting them and giving them professional mental illness treatment."

When William spoke, a smile always appeared on his face, but if one looked at his eyes, he actually wasn't smiling at all. There was even a hint of malice in his eyes.

"Since your mental state is still healthy, I think another month of such imprisonment shouldn't be a problem, right?"

The smile on William's face could no longer be hidden. He laughed gently, stood up, and supported his hands on the desktop, letting the shadow of his body cover Schiller.

He looked down at Schiller's eyes and said: "Professor Schiller, you might have forgotten long ago that during your tenure at Columbia University, you once rejected a graduate student application."

"In the reply email I received, you judged the thesis I wrote as worthless. And now, I have obtained a doctorate from the Harvard University Department of Psychology, and you have become a prisoner."

Schiller frowned. He seemed to be thinking about which one was William's among all the application articles he had read, but his still somewhat scattered eyes showed that he didn't remember at all.

William's expression gradually became ferocious. He could no longer bear such ignorance. He slammed the button on the table fiercely.

The special collar on Schiller's neck suddenly lit up with a red light, and current erupted. Instantly, Schiller twitched, supporting the table with one forearm to keep from falling over.

Schiller shrugged his shoulders and lowered his head, letting his forehead approach the desktop. Only his rapidly rising and falling chest proved that he wasn't asleep.

William straightened up, touched the button on the table with his hand, and raised one corner of his mouth. He said:

"Professor, you are as wretched as a drowned dog, but I don't mind at all making you even more wretched. This is the price you should pay for your arrogance."

After saying this, William pressed the button again. Schiller twitched on the table and let out a muffled groan.

Dozens of seconds later, a trembling hand covered with blue veins reached out to the side. Pale fingers picked up the pen next to it and slowly wrote in crooked handwriting on the paper:

"Do they allow you to do this?"

William let out a burst of laughter and said: "You are just a prisoner. Your mental assessment result depends entirely on the conclusion I write."

"In order to make you cooperate, I took some mandatory measures. How could they not understand? You don't really think someone would offend me for the sake of you, a criminal, right?"

Schiller's low laughter came from his chest, sounding slow and powerful, and full of mockery.

William's hand on the button was about to continue to exert force.

The next second, with a "bang," the door opened. Amanda Waller led Dai Weisi out. Amanda, wearing a long suit, said coldly:

"Enough, get out of here."

William turned his head, but Dai Weisi stepped forward and stared into his eyes, saying: "Today's mental assessment time is over, Dr. William, leave."

William still wanted to say something, but looking at Dai Weisi's cold eyes, he pursed his lips and turned his mouth down fiercely, turned back to glare at Schiller, and turned to leave.

Amanda stood in front of the table, lowered her eyelids, and looked at Schiller, who was still lowering his head, saying: "Sorry, Professor, he performed some very rude actions. He will pay the price for this."

Schiller lifted his eyes to look at Amanda. At the moment of seeing Amanda's face, he discovered that in the few broken memories he inherited from the original Schiller, there was Amanda's expression of grief and indignation.

"Long time no see, Amanda." Schiller's hand trembled, and he couldn't even finish writing a complete letter well. Amanda's mouth pursed, and a complex expression appeared on her face, but soon, it returned to coldness.

"Professor, very glad we meet again. I think, sitting here and being pierced by current through the body, the taste must not be good."

"But this should be able to make you understand that your method doesn't work at all. You are not a shepherd."

Schiller lifted his eyes and saw the hatred in Amanda's eyes. Amanda's tone slowly lowered, and she continued: "Born killers like you must receive sufficiently heavy punishment—corroding skin, breaking bones, taking out hearts."

"The so-called born madmen are completely a false proposition. They dare to release their madness wantonly just because they are not afraid enough. If they are afraid, they can only be tame lambs."

As the voice fell, Amanda pressed the button again. With a "zila" sound, an unprecedentedly strong current erupted.

"Uh..."

Schiller could no longer maintain a balanced posture. He fell to one side, his forehead hit the desktop, and a groan burst from his chest.

But Amanda didn't have any proud expression. Her tightly furrowed brow and the eye corners that squeezed out wrinkles were all telling of her entanglement and pain.

Under Amanda's gaze, Schiller's chest kept rising and falling. He gasped for breath, appearing very wretched. Amanda asked:

"Now, do you still think you are a shepherd?"

Schiller could barely hold the pen, but still wrote a line on the paper with a trembling hand.

"I have always been a lamb... the only lamb."

Amanda's pupils shrank, and Schiller continued to write.

"And what a lamb has to do is to offer itself, to welcome... the Lord's rebirth."

United States, New Jersey, Cat Getan, Cat Getan City Police Department.

The young officer ran up the stairs in a hurry, handed a document in his hand to Gordon, and said: "Sheriff, the New Jersey administration has revoked the emergency support order. You don't have to go to the state police station to help."

Gordon appeared somewhat puzzled. He looked at the police officer and asked: "Then how are they going to deal with those endless serial murder cases? Isn't it precisely because of the lack of people that I was transferred over?"

The young officer scratched his head and said: "Haven't you listened to the radio recently? There haven't been any new serial murder cases for several days, and even the difficult-to-solve major cases that appeared before, the killers have all turned themselves in."

Gordon widened his eyes. After his subordinate left, he looked at the document in his hand with great confusion.

But before he could carefully read the content, another female detective ran up in a hurry and said to Gordon: "Mrs. Miller from Arkham Asylum called the police station, saying that Jonathan Crane, who has been hospitalized in the hospital, ran out. His target seems to be the Cat Getan Police Department."

Gordon's expression immediately became serious. He waved his hand and said: "Full alert, this madman might want to bomb..."

"Gordon! James Gordon! When on earth do you plan to bring Schiller back?!" Jonathan's voice appeared at the door. Gordon put his hand on the gun at his waist, but Jonathan, who walked in, was still wearing a hospital gown, didn't carry any weapons, and didn't have any bombs.

"Hurry up and let Schiller come back! Without newspapers to read, I'm almost bored to death! I'm even so bored that I published a 'Natural Chemistry' thesis!"

"What newspaper? What thesis?" Gordon looked at him with puzzled eyes. Jonathan also glared at Gordon. A few seconds later, Gordon suddenly realized. He looked at Jonathan and said: "What you are talking about, could it be some secret code that your group of serial killers made up in the newspaper?"

"Do you know how long the secret code hasn't been updated?!" Jonathan raised his tone and said: "This will make me miss the latest information in the academic world! This is fatal for any scholar! You must think of a way..."

Suddenly, a sound came from the shadows in the corner of the room. Gordon widened his eyes abruptly and turned to look.

He saw Batman, but that didn't seem to be Batman either.

Gordon saw that in the eyes hidden in the darkness, divinity and evil were perfectly fused together.

A hoarse voice that made people feel like falling into an ice cellar sounded in the room.

"The new secret code is 'Full-width separator'."

I wrapped 1000 chapters of dumplings!