Chapter 2320

A withered hand full of lines took a black-and-white photocopy from the hands of the District Attorney's Office personnel wearing uniforms. He turned this paper in his hand, rubbed the edges with two hands, and wiped his nose with one hand, only then did he shrug the muscles on both sides of his nose, squinting his eyes to look at the content above.

"Mental illness... aggressiveness... aggressive behavior... hospitalization... hahahahahaha..."

He suddenly laughed wildly. The police officer next to him knocked on the window with a police baton, but the laughter didn't weaken. The police officer didn't do anything in the end.

Because he was clear that the person making the noise was completely a madman, and it seemed he had some unclear relationship with gang leader Falcone. The appraisal reports of the two were released together. There was no need to provoke this trouble.

After a while, a lawyer in a suit and leather shoes walked over. When he walked to the police officer, he was full of smiles, but when he came to the railing, his face was full of impatience.

"The appraisal result has already come out, then hurry up and go," the lawyer waved his hand, then lowered his voice and said, "There are reporters at the door, don't forget what you promised us."

The man with a gloomy face didn't speak, just rolled the appraisal report into a paper ball, holding it in front of him with both hands.

Soon a police officer came to open the door of the cell. The man wearing handcuffs was soon taken out. Just after walking out of the door, the flash completely replaced the daylight, shining his face pale.

He let his corners of the mouth droop, his eyebrows lowered, appearing old and exhausted, limping toward the prisoner transport vehicle. The vehicle drove slowly in one direction.

Sitting silently in the prisoner transport vehicle, he kept stroking the paper ball in his hand. His eyes full of red blood had no confusion or madness, only a calmness that was completely inconsistent with his chaotic appearance.

The vehicle turned a corner, and the man frowned. He discovered that this didn't seem to be the road to his destination, so he turned around and hit the railing frantically with his hand.

"Stop hitting," the lawyer sitting in the passenger seat said, "Arkham Asylum is currently undergoing upgrade and transformation. We have to go to the Otter Mental Treatment Center next door to transition for a period of time before we can go to Arkham Asylum for long-term hospitalization."

The man's complexion turned gloomy, but in the end, he pursed his lips and said nothing.

In Bat-Bane's office, he was supporting himself on the desk with both hands, staring at a huge design drawing on the desktop, drawing and sketching on it, stopping from time to time to think intently, and then continuing to work at the desk.

Suddenly his phone rang. After answering it, there was only a slightly immature but full-of-energy shout, "Where are you?!!!"

Bat-Bane recognized Aisha's voice, revealed a smile at the phone, and said, "I'm working, I'll be back soon."

"Then I'll wait for you."

After the phone hung up, when Bat-Bane put down the phone, the smile on his face hadn't faded yet. Through the reflection on the marble surface, he saw the expression on his face, so he reached out and rubbed his face.

It was also at this moment that Bruce Wayne, who was still very young, suddenly had the impulse to form a family.

In the performance hall of the Iceberg Shopping Center, Dick swooshed past, Jason followed behind him, swooshed past, and when Tim also wanted to swoosh past, he was grabbed by the back of the collar by Bruce, falling on his butt on the spot.

"What are you pulling me for! Bruce! Let me go!" Tim struggled on the ground like a rolling mole. Bruce grabbed him up and said, "Where are you running? Didn't I tell you it's dangerous?"

"Backstage, we're going backstage to ask for signatures. Didn't you hear the broadcast just now? The singers have already arrived. I want to collect all the signatures. When school starts, my classmates will be envious to death!"

Bruce sighed, looked back, they were sitting in VIP seats, so he wasn't worried about having no seats, but he was afraid Cobblepot might come to visit later, and Bruce was afraid he wouldn't find anyone.

Looking up at the time, Bruce felt Cobblepot might not come so early, so he patted Tim's back and said, "Let's go, I'll take you there. Which poster do you want to sign?"

Not long after Bruce left with the three children, Cobblepot came to the seat, looked left and right but didn't see Bruce, but saw another familiar figure.

"Professor, why did you come too?"

"I'm not a professor," Schiller raised his head to look at Cobblepot and said, "Oh, it's you. How is your mother's situation? Does she have any uncomfortable reactions after changing medicine?"

Cobblepot knew this might be Schiller changing personality traits, but how did this personality trait know his mother changed medicine?

"The prescriptions for you and your mother have always been written by me," Schiller said, "Arrogance hasn't written prescriptions for too long. In the absence of prescription review, it's better for me to come."

"It's always been you?"

Schiller recalled for a moment and said, "No, those basic drugs for treating schizophrenia were written by Arrogance, but later the targeted drugs for somatization symptoms were written by me."

Cobblepot stepped forward and shook hands with Schiller, and then he discovered that Schiller was combing Harley's hair. Harley was full of impatience, and the roar emitted from her throat had gradually approached the roar of a motorcycle.

"Don't go," Schiller grabbed the shoulder of Harley who was about to rush out with quick eyes and hands, finished braiding her last braid, and then said, "You'd better be honest, or I'll have Barry catch you back."

"You're much more long-winded than the other you," Harley grabbed her braid and turned around and said, "Can I go backstage now? I bet that group of stupid little bats must be excitedly asking for signatures. I will take pictures of every one of their expressions and hang them on the school's bulletin board."

"Go," Schiller let her go. Harley and Barry ran away in a flash. Cobblepot walked to Schiller's side and sat down.

Schiller raised his head to look around at the ceiling and said, "Is this your mall? The environment is not bad."

"Thank you, doctor. I didn't expect you to come to listen to the concert. Do you need me to arrange a VIP seat for you?"

"No need, I just wanted to send Barry and Harley over. Perhaps I won't listen to the whole thing..."

At this time, Bruce just walked out from backstage. Seeing that the person next to Cobblepot was actually Schiller, he opened his eyes in surprise.

When Cobblepot left and walked toward him, he took the initiative to greet him and said, "I just checked the program list, everything is fine, but the opening atmosphere doesn't seem very enthusiastic. Why not move a rock song from the back to the front to warm up the field?"

"Is that so?" Cobblepot smiled and said, "I don't have any research on music. This was arranged by the manager under my hand."

"How old is he roughly?"

"Should be less than 50 this year."

Bruce shook his head and said, "The most famous singer in this concert tonight is 2pac. Most people came for him. These young people like to be rowdy. Three lyrical songs in a row will only make people sleepy."

"I think you have a point. I'll call and have them modify the program list. The opening should still be lively, which is also convenient for filming."

Soon the performance began. The moment they saw rock instruments being moved onto the stage, the crowd below cheered. When the rock band walked onto the stage, the crowd below howled even more, and everyone was shouting and yelling.

With a "buzz," followed by two "clacks," then came the strong drum beats of heavy metal rock. The young people below swayed with the rhythm, but Schiller rubbed his temples, stood up from his seat, and turned to leave. No matter when, the art form of rock was still a bit too advanced for him.

Watching Schiller's departing back, Bruce breathed a sigh of relief. As long as Schiller wasn't there, no matter how many killers were here now, there wouldn't be any terrible murders.

The children played very wildly, constantly imitating the teenagers shaking their heads and screaming in the movies. If Thomas were here, he would probably be angered into the hospital, but Bruce didn't care, just letting them replenish water in time.

Selina was a performance guest. Soon it was her turn to sing. This time she sang a lyrical song, placed after rock, giving people time to catch their breath and rest. Most people were also very fascinated by listening.

After the performance, she didn't even change her clothes and walked over to find Bruce. People in the back row saw the two of them hugging together and let out even more ear-piercing screams, and the atmosphere became even more enthusiastic.

One song after another, mostly singers with some fame on the East Coast, and their strength couldn't be underestimated. Whether it was smooth turns or high notes breaking through the sky, it made people feel that coming to this concert was worth the money.

The atmosphere of the concert became hotter and hotter. The tail sound of the lyrical song fell, and the host's high-pitched voice rang out again. When he shouted that name, the whole venue boiled.

The melodious prelude melody rang out, and following the drum beats, the whole venue shouted his name—"2Pac!".

"... Their eyes are saying, 'Oh, buddy, you're really crazy!' This is what I call 'The Whole Field in an Uproar'!"

The moment the chorus melody rang out, the cheering almost lifted the ceiling of the venue. Everyone was screaming wildly, dancing their limbs, waving their arms, cheering for this rap emperor from the West Coast.

Bruce nodded lightly following the music rhythm. He quite liked the lyrics of this song, especially those parts depicting people's facial expressions. It sounded like a kind of sad black humor, very Gotham-featured, and Jack said he also liked this part the most.

But just at this time, Bruce suddenly saw someone twisting faster than others. It looked like they were dancing casually, but in reality, their footsteps were constantly pushing toward the direction of the concert stage.

Seeing him dash to the front row in a few steps, Bruce, who was sitting in the very front, stood up immediately.

People around all looked at him. He realized his movement seemed a bit too big, but this couldn't help Bruce not be nervous. The three children were all sitting beside him.

Fortunately, at this time 2Pac walked to the very front of the stage, bent over and reached out to high-five with the audience in front of the stage. Bruce pretended to be an enthusiastic fan, grabbed his finger when high-fiving him, and made a mouth shape at him.

2Pac was slightly stunned, but reacted quickly, immediately withdrew his hand, and walked quickly toward the back of the stage. But just one second after he turned around, with a "bang" of a gunshot, 2Pac fell to the ground.

Jason and Dick all stood up with a "whoosh," pointing at 2Pac on the stage and screaming, but Tim's attention fell on Bruce's hand.

"You fired the shot?"

"Shh..."

Within two seconds, more than a dozen red and blue figures swooshed and landed on the stage, instantly surrounding the stage tightly, airtight.

"Who? Who fired the shot?!"

"There's danger! Danger! Quickly evacuate the public!!"

"You two go down to maintain order, you two go lift the wounded, others follow me to block the entrance, don't let the murderer run!"

Deathstroke and Deadpool, who were having fun halfway, were at a loss.

What's the matter? There's a killer?

Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh, the area around them was instantly surrounded by Spider-Men tightly.

"Wade, quickly dodge! Your cousin fired the shot!!"