Chapter 434

With a thud, Benjamin collapsed to the ground; Schiller watched his figure slowly fall, then looked up, astonished, at Lex.

Schiller was genuinely surprised—Lex's logic had exceeded his expectations.

Although he had long known Lex was not under control, he had no idea why Lex had attacked Benjamin. Benjamin had accused him of being the killer, but never pointed to Lex—so why did Lex strike him?

Schiller mentally replayed the entire sequence of events.

Lionel had invited him to the reception room, intending to blackmail him with some leverage; then he had struck Lionel with his umbrella handle, knocked him to the ground, and left.

Afterwards, Selina came to install surveillance in the reception room, just as Lionel was crawling off the floor; the two clashed, Selina swung a vase and struck Lionel again, knocking him unconscious before departing.

Benjamin likely came to discuss something with Lionel; but the already broken Lionel raged at him, revealing to Benjamin that Schiller had killed someone two years ago—Benjamin clashed with him, then knocked him out.

Benjamin was an agent; his control over force should have been reliable. As an official representative, he would never kill Luthor outright—meaning, up until now, Lionel was not dead, merely unconscious.

But now, Lionel lying on the floor was certainly dead—meaning, the first, second, and third people to meet Lionel had not killed him; the true killer was the fourth.

Schiller looked at Lex and asked: "Did you kill Lionel?"

"No," Lex shook his head. "He died by suicide—or by accident."

As he spoke, time rewound to the moment Benjamin left the room.

Though Benjamin had not killed Luthor, knocking him out here still violated agent protocol, so he hurried out without noticing the faint sound from the reception room's attached bathroom.

A few seconds after he left, the bathroom door opened, and Lex stepped out.

He walked over, glanced at Lionel lying on the floor, then pulled from his pocket a small transparent bag containing a tiny pill.

Lex slipped the pill into Lionel's unconscious mouth, then took a cup, went to the bathroom to fill it with water, and splashed it onto Lionel's face.

After a while, Lionel finally woke up. Seeing Lex's face, he choked, coughed violently, and trembled as he struggled to rise from the floor.

"You… you…"

"You're wondering how I got here, why I didn't stay in my room?" Lex spoke.

Lionel was exhausted—he was no longer young, and could not remain fully conscious after repeated blows to the head. He had barely risen when he collapsed back onto the floor, staring wide-eyed at Lex's smile: "How could you… you didn't take your medicine???"

Hearing this, Lex wore a bored expression, stroked his hair, and said: "I haven't taken any medicine since two years ago—and you never noticed."

"How to put it, Father… you're stupid enough to frighten me."

Lex looked down at Lionel on the floor: "You murdered my mother in front of me, then, the moment I showed signs of genius, forcibly drugged me to suppress my thoughts and speech."

"When you needed my intellect, you reduced my dosage and extracted answers from me—this is why Luthor Corporation thrived, because every major decision was mine."

Lex took a deep breath: "When you needed me to decide, you lowered the dosage, letting me feel something like normal emotion—then, I even felt happy…"

"Because you were my father, you needed me—at least in that moment, you loved me."

"I thought normal people were like this: I gave you good advice, you smiled, praised me, called me your beloved son."

Lex's eyes glowed faintly as he looked down at Lionel's bloodshot eyes and said:

"Until two years ago, someone freed me from that state…"

"He saved me—but more importantly, his actions taught me one truth: you are not normal."

Lionel's throat rattled with a coughing sound; his face flushed unnaturally, his pulse racing, his heartbeat accelerating.

"I don't mean just your abuse of me—I mean you're a fool. A fool so profound it drives everyone mad."

Lionel's eyes burned with endless rage, but now he could barely speak. Lex walked over, knelt beside his head, and said:

"The cruelest irony? To accommodate your stupidity, a group of people smarter than anyone else had to kill you with the most blunt method possible."

"Feel your heart still beating? Feel it racing? Good—that's proof you're alive, even though you'll die soon."

156n.

Lex stood. His shadow fell across Lionel's face, drowning every expression in darkness.

Lex turned to leave, but paused and looked back.

"Oh, right—I forgot. The man who saved me? He's the professor you hate most: Rodriguez."

"Now, I'm going to ask him if he'll become my godfather—and you…"

"You're not just not a genius—you're not even worthy to be the father of one. Goodbye, Luthor."

As Lex walked away, Lionel clutched his chest, mouth agape, gasping in his final death rattle, then arched his back violently—a flash of agony crossed his face, his eyes glazed, his breath ceased.

"Cause of death: cardiac arrest. I did give him a drug—but only a common one. Seeing my father unconscious on the floor, administering emergency medication is only natural, isn't it?" Lex said.

Schiller looked again at Benjamin, sprawled beside him. He walked over, turned to Lex, and said: "I don't know why you rushed to attack him, but I must tell you—your method won't keep him unconscious long."

"He should be waking up soon… oh, looks like he is."

As Schiller spoke, Benjamin stirred, twisted his neck, pressed his hand to the back of his neck, and struggled to rise.

Schiller slowly reversed his umbrella, handle down, tip up, gripped the shaft with both hands, and drove it down hard.

With a thud, Benjamin collapsed again.

Beside them, Bruce swallowed hard. With no one else present, he dropped the act—stood straight, smoothed his clothes, walked to Benjamin's side, and began searching him with practiced ease.

He patted Benjamin's body and pockets, found nothing. He stood and looked at Schiller: "What the hell is going on? What did you do here two years ago?"

"I said I lost my memory—do you believe me?" Schiller answered with perfect confidence.

Bruce recalled his experience inside Schiller's Mind Palace, then slowly shook his head.

"I can tell you seriously—I really have lost my memory. I remember my past actions, but I have no recollection of this event."

Schiller stroked the handle of his umbrella and asked Bruce: "Do you want to judge me?"

Bruce stepped forward two paces, facing Schiller, and stared into his eyes: "I will uncover the truth of this. It concerns the future of the East Coast—and Gotham."

He glanced at Benjamin on the ground: "He told me he once sent agents into Gotham to investigate the Philby List and Soviet spies."

"You want to find that Soviet spy?" Schiller narrowed his eyes at Bruce, bluntly: "And when you find him—what then? Hand him over to the CIA?"

"I don't care whether the Federation permits espionage—I only know Gotham doesn't. I won't let an unpredictable, dangerous individual roam this city unchecked." Bruce's reply was pure Batman.

"Bruce, you should know—whether I truly lost my memory or not, you won't get the answers you want from me." Schiller's tone was icy. "My past belongs only to me—and not to you."

Bruce clearly had no intention of giving up. The two stood in the room, tension thickening again—this storm was greater, more dangerous than Schiller's standoff with Benjamin.

At that moment, the click of a gun being chambered rang out—Bruce rolled sideways.

A shot fired—striking the exact spot where Bruce had stood.

The black muzzle lowered, revealing Lex Luthor's face.