Chapter 3276

"Don't look at me like that. They eat and drink until they are bloated; proper induced vomiting is good for their physical health," Schiller said, ignoring Batman's disapproving gaze.

"Is that your reason for poisoning others?"

"What poisoning! Don't put it so harshly!" Schiller's voice was slightly higher, but seemingly afraid of attracting the attention of those nearby, he lowered his voice again and said, "It's not like you have to use chemical poison. Isn't getting poisoned from eating poisonous mushrooms still poisoning?"

"But they are all gourmets; surely they can distinguish the types of mushrooms?"

"Then use chemical poison on non-poisonous mushrooms. This will make them still get poisoned after a round of identification."

Batman was speechless; he could only say: "Just tell me what you want to do."

"I can't tell you yet, but you'll know soon."

The "soon" Schiller spoke of was usually faster than "soon." Batman learned this as soon as he got home, because he received a letter in his home mailbox.

Cat Getan's largest casino, "Fills East Coast Heaven," sent an invitation to bet to all its members. The content of the bet was to gamble on who the next criminal to escape from Arkham Asylum would be.

When Batman saw this letter, his head buzzed; this world had finally gone crazy after all.

Below, there was even an attached odds sheet. Currently, the lowest odds were for Bane; everyone felt he could successfully escape because he was indeed very strong and acted as the main force in almost every criminal operation. He would definitely be the next to escape.

The odds were higher for those who had no particular characteristics themselves, such as the Riddler. Although guessing riddles was very interesting, he himself was a thin and weak man, and the probability of him running out of Arkham on his own was really too low.

It didn't matter that there wasn't much money on the books; they had many industrial assets. As long as the price was pressed low enough, they could sell them quickly. Some redundant raw materials could also be sold to recover funds.

Batman could not evaluate this gambling game.

Yes, in Cat Getan's upper class, crime was indeed treated as a kind of investment, but that was just their casual talk at some parties, and it was always whispered while dancing. No one would talk about this topic on a news program.

Now this Fills isn't even pretending anymore, right?

But don't say that, you really shouldn't say that. The human nature of pursuing excitement is engraved in their bones, especially for this group of upper-class people who have money but nowhere to spend it. What they like to play most is this kind of life-and-death game.

Batman flipped the invitation over and found that it wasn't just this one bet, it was just that this game was the biggest one.

The rest included the time of the jailbreak, the location of the crime after the jailbreak, the number of deaths in this crime, the number of police dispatched, etc.

The most outrageous thing was that they were also betting on things related to Batman, such as how many minutes after the attack started Batman would arrive, what equipment Batman would use, who Batman would catch first...

Browsing through one item after another, the fingers Batman used to hold the invitation gradually tightened.

No person with a conscience could fail to feel anger when seeing someone taking pleasure in treating human life like grass.

But what made Batman feel even more sorrowful and indignant was that he knew they would be very interested. They would flock to participate in this exciting game to satisfy their desires, which were empty to the extreme.

Batman took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. He began to think about the role Schiller played in this matter.

Schiller was walking through a luxuriously decorated corridor, arriving in a magnificent private room. A young man with dazzling golden hair and emerald green eyes was hugging two hot-bodied women, directing a waiter to pour wine into his glass.

Seeing Schiller walk in, he stood up very enthusiastically, shook hands with the other party, and then said with high spirits: "Simply perfect! Sir! In the hour after the invitation was sent, more than 70 people called me."

"Are they all regular customers here?"

"That's right, they are all very fat fish." The young man laughed wildly, then said, "Now my brother can't compare to me! My father will only kick that useless piece of trash far away!"

"Calm down, Mr. Fills," Schiller said, "This is far from enough. What we want is not regular customers, but everyone. I mean everyone in Cat Getan's upper class participating."

"Of course they will!" Fills raised his voice and said, "This has only been a short hour. Once the news spreads, I believe they will all participate."

Schiller, however, didn't seem to be infected by his excited mood. He just found a chair and sat down, then said: "The next highlight is to prevent them from manipulating the gambling game. They will definitely do this, won't they?"

Fills leaned against the wall and said: "Of course. As far as I know, that guy Toke has several masters; they will definitely reach out."

"What do you plan to do?"

"Don't underestimate me, Mr. Schiller. If I were as trashy as my brother, I couldn't have taken this casino from my father's hands."

After speaking, he clapped his hands. A door on the side of the private room opened, and a slightly fat figure was pushed in; it was none other than Toke, the warden of Arkham Asylum.

This fat man was trembling, and before Fills could say anything, he began to cry and beg for mercy, saying that from now on he would only work for the Fills family. But from the proficiency of his movements, one could tell that he had already said this to many people.

And Fills just casually took a knife from an apple nearby, first patted Toke's cheek with the side of the knife, and then stabbed the knife into Toke's throat.

With a "shhh" sound, fresh blood splattered. This warden ended both his career and his life at the same time.

Schiller sat in the chair watching all this, without any fluctuations. Fills' peripheral vision glanced at him, then turned back, seemingly feeling disappointed that he hadn't been able to see the scene he wanted to see.

"Who do you plan to replace him with?" Schiller asked, "You'd better be 100% sure that this new warden won't be bought off."

"I'll go myself, what do you think?"

"If you want your brother to laugh out loud at your funeral, you can do that."

"Then what about you? What if I let you go?"

Schiller said somewhat impatiently: "I don't want to go around in circles with you here anymore, Mr. Fills. Your irrelevant suspicion will only slow your pace and make you miss the best opportunity."

"Alright." Fills shrugged and said, "Using a criminal's jailbreak to start a gambling game is simply shocking; it's simply putting the federal government's face on the ground and stepping on it. To prevent such vicious cases from happening, the Cat Getan Police Department must go all out."

"James Gordon, what do you think?" Fills spread his hands and said, "I heard that the anti-terrorism squad he newly formed is quite powerful. Transferring them all over should be enough to deal with those people."

"How do you plan to transfer them over? Do you think our stubborn new Mayor will agree?"

"That is indeed a trouble." Fills nodded and said, "But, sir, if you want to get your high commission, you have to help me think of a way, don't you?"

"I can only give you an idea; the specifics still require you to do it." Schiller sighed slightly and said, "Commissioner Gordon and Mayor Napier have one thing in common, and that is that they are kind enough."

"You don't need to do anything extra, just let them know about this, and throw Toke's body at the entrance of the police station, letting them know that if they don't stop it, many people will die because of this. They will naturally do what you want them to do."

"Good idea." Fills snapped his fingers and said, "Then you go and send the body over."

"I hope you don't regret it," Schiller said, standing up.

Half an hour later, Gordon saw the body hanging in the lobby of the police station. Everyone rushed out of the lobby in a panic, and some young police officers with insufficient experience had already started vomiting.

Gordon's face was darker than the bottom of a pot. He roared loudly: "What does Fills mean?! It's been many years since anyone dared to provoke me like this!! Nightwing!! Immediately take a team and surround that shitty casino for me!!!!"

Now it was Fills' turn for his face to be as dark as the bottom of a pot.

He hurried downstairs, but the guests had already been driven away by the police. Gordon was standing in the center of the casino lobby.

"Gordon, are you fucking crazy?!!"

As a result, there was a "click" sound; Gordon directly opened the safety of his pistol, and the pitch-black muzzle pointed directly at Fills' forehead.

Fills was stunned. And Gordon just curled his lips, gritted his teeth, and said to Fills: "If you don't give me an explanation, I'll blow you away right here! Even Jesus can't keep you!"

Fills was a bit confused. That's not right; his casino was legal. Gordon had come to check a few times before, couldn't find anything, and left in a dejected manner. Later, he almost never came again, and when he saw himself outside, he would always leave without saying a word.

What's wrong with him? Is he really crazy???

Fills suddenly realized, could it be that the body he asked Schiller to throw had a problem?

"James, calm down. Do you want to shoot a law-abiding citizen?!"

"Law-abiding?! Cutting the warden of Arkham Asylum like a mop and hanging him in the lobby of the Cat Getan Police Department is called law-abiding???"

Fills opened his mouth; he really wanted to say that Toke was complete when he left him, but then he suddenly thought, if he was complete when he left him, then who turned him into a mop?

Thinking about it this way, Gordon didn't seem to be a problem anymore.

"Listen, James, there's a misunderstanding here." Fills reached out his hand, "I guarantee this case has nothing to do with me."

"Then do you know what this mop is used to clean up?!" Gordon forcefully threw two blood-red things onto Fills' face.

Fills picked them up and looked; they were two chips covered in fresh blood, the kind used in Fills' casino.

He took a deep breath and just wanted to shout that name, but reason stopped him. If he really said the name Schiller, it would prove that he had a connection to this case.

"Sorry, James. This might be my subordinates acting on their own. I promise you, I will investigate it clearly." Fills had to use his last resort, "I am very sorry for Mr. Toke's encounter. I can give his family some humanitarian donations."

"I am also very sorry." Gordon looked at him with a cold expression and said, "Having found casino chips on the victim, I have to ask you to go back and cooperate with the investigation... Do it!"

Fills hadn't even had time to call security before Nightwing flew over and kicked him down. Instantly, seven or eight big men rushed up and pinned him to the ground. When the casino security rushed over in a hurry, the handcuffs were already on.

Fills stared fiercely at Gordon and said: "You're done for, James Gordon. You dare to arrest me?! The Fills family won't let you go!!"

And when he was being escorted past the entrance, he saw Schiller standing by the door. But standing behind Schiller was another figure he was familiar with; it was his stupid brother.

Fills' face turned pale instantly.