Chapter 1186: The Cry of the Lamb (Part 15)

The night in Colorado is much milder than Cat Getan. The climate here is quite good. There are not so many rainy days and foggy days, so even when night falls, the bright moonlight will illuminate the buildings here clearly.

The Florence Supermax Prison, which sits alone at the foot of the mountain, looks even more deserted under the bright moonlight, and even appears somewhat terrifying. Residents near Denver know that a prison was built in a place far from the city, but they don't know what kind of madmen are imprisoned here.

Ignorance is sometimes indeed a happy thing. If they knew the truth about this prison, I'm afraid they would never have a good night's sleep again.

When a long luxury car stopped at the entrance of the prison, Bruce, wearing a suit, walked out. He came to the back row of the car, opened the door for Amanda himself, and Dai Weisi, who had been waiting at the prison entrance for a long time, greeted him enthusiastically and shook hands with Bruce.

"Regarding William's death, I feel very sorry. I don't know what kind of cruel killer would dare to take action in the FBI base, and I don't know what good it does for him to do so." Bruce mentioned a topic like chatting.

Dai Weisi led the two into the prison while sighing: "The killer is really crazy. Does he think that committing a crime in the FBI won't be discovered? In fact, someone has already found clues. I think it won't be long before the killer is brought to justice."

Bruce nodded, smiled and said: "I have confidence in the efficiency of the FBI in handling cases. But before that, I also mentioned to Amanda that many people attribute this to the revenge of serial killers on your plan. They feel very dissatisfied, thinking that your plan is too aggressive, which led to such consequences."

Amanda snorted coldly: "They think the whole world is aggressive. It's best to leave criminals alone. Anyway, it won't endanger them."

Dai Weisi coughed gently, as if reminding Amanda not to make such radical remarks. Amanda turned her head to one side, as if she didn't want to mention this topic anymore.

The three of them entered the building along the narrow passage on the side of the prison. Bruce seemed very curious about the environment here, looking at the structure of the building up and down.

After a while, he shook his head and said: "Ms. Waller, just as I said, your idea is not bad. Finding a supermax prison to lock serial killers in and then taming them, theoretically, this can be implemented."

"Serial killers are not wood without knowledge or feeling. Although they don't regard themselves as humans, in fact, they are still humans. As long as they are humans, they can be tamed. The key lies in the method of taming."

Amanda still appeared very unconvinced. She said: "If you think violent taming is wrong, do you still want me to reason with them nicely? So many years of social life couldn't make them understand the simplest truth. If they can't be given enough pain, how will they remember?"

Bruce shook his head and said: "Sometimes, violent means are necessary, but there cannot be only violent means. And I am precisely trying to fill this gap."

"Ms. Waller, I think you should have heard of that very famous murder case. More than ten years ago, my parents, the Wei En couple, died because of murder. For so many years, I have been chasing the traces of the killer and planning revenge."

"I don't have less hatred for criminals than you. Knowing that there are still people in this world who have been planning for so many years to deal with criminals, I feel very happy."

Amanda frowned slightly, but it wasn't expressing dissatisfaction. She was trying hard to recall the case related to Thomas Wei En and his wife. She shook her head and said: "I have heard of that case, but murder cases in Cat Getan are all very mysterious. Did you find the killer?"

"Yes, he is not any serial killer, just instructed by others, out of interest. When I found him, he was already dying of old age. It's no use arguing with him anymore."

Bruce's words and the sigh in his tone made Amanda feel relieved instead. If Bruce said his parents were also killed by serial killers, Amanda would have to be suspicious.

"Until now, I haven't found the killer who killed my parents and younger brother." Amanda pursed her lips and said: "Professor Schiller made outstanding contributions to this."

"What on earth is going on with you two?" Bruce turned back and asked somewhat puzzled.

"He used to be my university professor. After my family was killed, I once sought help from him, but he refused. And when a clue I found pointed to a newsstand, he burned it down in advance, and the clue was broken. Until today, I haven't found the killer."

Amanda took a deep breath and said: "Later, I knew that they communicated through newspapers and magazines. In order to eliminate the traces of their communication, Schiller also eliminated my clues."

Bruce nodded and didn't ask any more questions. At this time, they came to a room. Dai Weisi entered the password while saying: "You said you wanted to see Professor Schiller, so I had him transported to this side in advance. Although he just finished surgery and has almost no ability to move, in order to ensure your safety, it's best not to have physical contact with him."

After saying this, the thick door opened. Inside was a closed room, still with only the light bulb hanging on the ceiling and a chair.

Schiller was still restrained in the chair, but because the wound hadn't healed, he didn't wear a restraint suit, but wore an ordinary prison uniform, with his hands fixed on the armrests and his neck fixed to the back of the chair.

When the door opened, Bruce raised an eyebrow, because it was visible to the naked eye that Schiller's state was very poor. The paleness caused by excessive blood loss and the haggardness brought by the recovery period made him look very weak.

Amanda looked at Bruce's expression. Now she was sure that Bruce didn't seem to intend to save Schiller at all, because Bruce didn't show very anger, nor was he sad or sad.

"Professor, we meet again." Bruce said calmly.

Schiller didn't look at him at all, but Bruce walked to Schiller's front on his own, and then walked around to his back. But because of the cover of the prison uniform, he could only see the traces of the wound suture on the back of his neck, but this was enough for Bruce to judge that Schiller was seriously injured.

"In these days since I parted with you, I have been thinking about a question." Bruce paced slowly in the room, and then continued: "What on earth are you trying to make me understand with this series of actions?"

"Of course, the answers can be many. For example, let me understand not to easily fall into Stockholm syndrome, for example, let me believe that pathology must coexist with me, can never get rid of it, and can only choose to accept it."

"And for example, let me more deeply understand that sentence you said before, that is, only criminals can deal with criminals, or it can also be said that I must first admit that I am a criminal and understand criminals to deal with criminals."

When saying this, Bruce stopped his pace, just stopping in front of Schiller. He looked at Schiller and shook his head and said: "But I think this is not the final answer, or rather, these answers can all be summarized into one answer. I think that is—patriarchy."

"There are many kinds of power in this world, but the vast majority of power is built on distrust and hatred. Because of distrust, because of hatred, power is needed to rule. Power serves the hatred of the power possessor."

"But only one kind of power is different, and that is patriarchy."

"It is born of love, and it also serves the father's love. Perhaps the father's love is distorted, perhaps the way of exercising power is wrong, but it is still born of the father's love for the child, or what he thinks is love."

"Before children become adults, the family is completely a closed environment for them. They don't have the ability to leave. In this environment, they are very likely to produce Stockholm syndrome. Because they are powerless to change the father, they lower their standards and tame themselves to love him."

"The violence, rudeness, jealousy, and desire for control that the father shows in the process of exercising power all make the child more deeply realize the pathology of humanity."

"The father uses his own power to force the child to understand himself, and the child who understands them will eventually compete with them for power."

"In the process of growing up, let the balance tilt in one's own direction, so that after the father ages and loses power, completely take over his power and become the new exerciser of patriarchy."

"At first, I thought I should focus on the power part of patriarchy, but now, I realize that I should focus on the part of patriarchy that is most different from other powers—love."

Bruce paced to the door. He said a few words to Dai Weisi at the door. Dai Weisi looked at Amanda, Amanda nodded gently, and then Dai Weisi went out.

After a while, two security personnel carried in an ordinary table. Bruce took a metal tray from the hands of two doctors wearing white coats and placed it on the table.

There was a cup in the metal tray, as well as transparent hoses and needles. Bruce put on gloves, and until this time, Schiller looked up at him and asked in a voice that was hoarse to the bottom: "What do you want to do?"

"Draw blood." Bruce answered.

A series of low laughter came. Schiller was already having difficulty even making a sound, but his laughter could still give people great pressure. He looked at Bruce and said: "Come on, let me return that 1000 milliliters of blood to you, and we will be even."

Bruce shook his head. He put on gloves, picked up the syringe, and stabbed the needle into his arm without hesitation, watching the red blood flow out until it

Shiler stared straight at his movements, and Amanda, standing behind Bruce, saw for the first time in this professor's eyes that arrogance of having victory in his grasp.

When the blood bag was filled, Bruce pulled out the needle, shook the blood bag for a moment, took the glass cup from the side, and then poured all the blood into it.

A full cup of blood, once it left the sealed container, immediately emitted a bloody stench.

Bruce carried the cup with an expressionless face to Shiler's front; Shiler looked up at him, Bruce's face submerged in the backlight's darkness, both divinity and evil dissolved in his deep blue eyes.

"Batman..." Shiler instinctively called out.

"You know, Pride has worked so hard for so long, just to complete Joker's mission as quickly as possible, so as not to be entangled with my fate any longer; you also know he is a good teacher and would never hurt his own student just for amusement."

While speaking in a low tone, Bruce handed the glass cup containing the fresh blood to Shiler's lips and said, "But as long as you drink Batman's blood, Pride will never have freedom; he will never be able to escape the fate of being entangled with me, and he will have betrayed his own principles as a teacher, becoming a monster who abuses his student."

Shiler slowly widened his eyes; he looked up at Bruce, but his body instinctively retreated until the back of his head pressed against the chair, with nowhere left to retreat.

Yet the cup filled with fresh blood kept being pushed forward, and Shiler could only turn his head away, avoiding the increasingly close bloody smell.

But the next second, Bruce's gloved hand directly grabbed Shiler's jaw, turned his head back, extended his thumb along the corner of his lips into his jaw, forcibly pried Shiler's jaw open, and with his other hand, tilted the cup, directly pouring the fresh blood in.

With a "whoosh," in Amanda's surprised gaze, Shiler disappeared from the chair; the next second, he appeared in the corner of the room.

Shiler knelt half-way on the ground, covering his blood-filled mouth, coughing and retching wildly, ignoring the violent vibrations tearing open the wound on his back, the fresh blood staining half of his prison uniform red.

Bruce walked over with large strides holding the glass cup; Shiler stumbled to his feet wanting to dodge, but Bruce smashed the cup on the ground, then picked up a shard and sliced his own palm with all his might.

Shiler's movements stiffened uncontrollably for an instant, and then his expression became dull.

When the fresh blood on Bruce's palm burst out, gray mist invaded and threw him to the ground.

Just the second after the gray mist condensed into a human shape, Bruce stood up at the fastest speed and grabbed Shiler's neck from behind.

Shiler grabbed Bruce's wrist and threw him off; with a "swish," the fresh blood on Bruce's hand splashed onto Shiler's face.

When the two ended their entanglement and retreated from each other, there were no calm expressions, no elegant postures; both were covered in blood, pale-faced, and disheveled like a madman and a vagrant.

The balance held for less than a second before one of the figures knelt weakly halfway down, covering his blood-filled mouth with his hand, his whole body trembling.

The other figure walked to his front and threw away the blood-stained glass shard in his hand.

Bruce used his blood-filled palm to wipe his own cheek, and amidst the bloodiness all over the floor, he also knelt halfway down.

His outstretched hands were like those of an ignorant infant, and also like the spread wings of a bat.

Amidst the mess, Bruce slowly hugged Shiler.

He hugged his mentor, his enemy, his savior and father, his... lamb.

Other authors write the prelude to abusing the protagonist, and readers cry their eyes out.

I write the prelude to abusing the protagonist, and the comment section is a mess of pants...?

What are you doing, what are you doing! No being lewd!