Chapter 4499: Blackest Night (35)

The Cat Getan in the long night seems to have traveled through time. The bigger the snow, the deeper the traces of crime will be buried. This is a truth that every Gothamite understands. They understand even more that some monsters will only appear in such heavy snow, appearing with the sound of wind passing through the pine forest, pulling the entire city into a thrilling hunt. The feast lasts until the morning mist rises, but tonight, it is the blackest night.

"Haven't heard from you for a long time, Professor." The convenience store boss, known as the "Deer Hunter," picked up a piece of suede from the side, gently wiped the gun barrel, and thin white mist emerged from his mouth.

"No one's life theme is murder," Schiller sat at the table, looking at the dim snow in the night, "Some people walk into the snowy night tonight, it is a last resort."

The Deer Hunter snorted: "From the moment you came in, I found you have a pair of sharp eyes, I won't lie in front of people like you. Originally, I should be in the East District now, sitting by the fireplace, discussing the Christmas menu with my wife. But the snow is too heavy, you understand?"

"I thought you received 'Moriarty's' invitation," Schiller looked at him and said, "Aren't you interested in this?"

"Do you know why I am called 'Deer Hunter'?" The Deer Hunter paused, held the gun barrel upright, and wiped the handle of the hunting gun, "Hunters always walk alone. I am not interested in hunting either. But I am very curious, what kind of person would call himself 'Moriarty', and how did you offend him?"

"I said, the night is still long, we can talk slowly," Schiller picked up the coffee and took a sip, then said, "Don't you like the title 'Moriarty'?"

"Who would like it?" The Deer Hunter snorted disdainfully, his movements stopped, seemingly organizing his thoughts, then opened his mouth and said, "What is the point of comparing oneself to a character in a novel that has long been shaped? Is he trying to say that he is not himself, but a virtual character created by a writer?"

"You have never seen such a person, so you feel incredible. There are people in this world who try their best not to be themselves."

"Then what are they fighting for?"

"Desire," Schiller said softly, "Fast, intense, only belonging to the present desire. Apart from this, there is nothing else."

"Humph, sounds even more stupid and short-sighted than a rough guy like me who only read two days of books." With a "click," the hunting gun was pushed with a bullet, and the crisp sound echoed with the sound of the wind chime at the door.

The woman took off her thick down jacket, revealing a hot figure wearing only a suspender dress. As if she didn't see the hunting gun in the Deer Hunter's hand, she smiled at Schiller familiarly.

"Long time no see, Professor. I saw your car."

"'Nightingale', why are you here?" Schiller accurately called out the woman's name, "Cat Getan University should be your forbidden area."

"I don't come here normally. But who doesn't know that someone wants to hunt the famous professor? I'm here to watch the fun."

The Deer Hunter showed a look of recollection, seemingly recalling who this woman was. Soon he remembered, raised his eyebrows and said: "You don't do the flesh business anymore?"

"Your news is really not sensitive enough, big guy. I wasn't a prostitute before either, just dancing striptease. Maybe you have even watched my performance." Nightingale smiled, and also walked to the side of the counter and sat down. The rich perfume smell rushed into his nose, and the Deer Hunter waved his hand at her with some disgust: "Stay away, don't disturb my sense of smell."

She stepped back a few steps, then looked down at the corpse on the ground and said: "It seems I came a bit late, didn't see the wonderful part."

"You came just in time," Schiller looked out the window. His car was parked alone in the snow. The snow was getting heavier and heavier, almost burying the old car. There was no one on the road, and it was frighteningly quiet.

Nightingale walked to the opposite side of Schiller, also pulled out a tissue, and wiped the blood-stained finger knife in her hand: "I killed a sniper when I came, but there must be others outside. Professor, who the hell did you offend?"

"Remember the director of Arkham Asylum before?"

"That depends on how long ago it was. Don't tell me it's the era of the Roman." Nightingale paused, then said, "It seems he still hasn't given up."

"Who?" the Deer Hunter asked.

"Hugo Strange. This guy has been committed to catching all the 'abnormal' people in Cat Getan into his mental hospital for research. That guy has some skills. One of my sisters was caught by him, and I spent a lot of effort to fish her out."

"Who else?" Schiller asked.

"Moon Knife, Diviner, Minnesota Guitarist, Tattoo Face..." The dwarf shook his head and said, "Too many."

Then he turned to look at Schiller and said: "Professor, do you know why Hugo suddenly came back?"

"Maybe it's just to give you a chance for revenge," Schiller said, "Just like we agreed. Leave the body to you, leave the spirit to me."

"Wait," the Deer Hunter spoke up, "So you discussed it?"

"Yes," Schiller nodded and said, "Hugo Strange is back, how can he not see his former enemies?"

"I have no feud with him," the Deer Hunter said, "But I am also willing to help you. I hate this kind of self-righteous guy."

"It's not helping me, but helping yourself. Your daughter has autism, right?" Schiller looked at him, "And it's a high-functioning spectrum population. Hugo is most interested in such people."

The Deer Hunter's face changed. Nightingale added another fire: "My sister is. She has difficulty taking care of herself, but she can accurately draw every street in Cat Getan. Hugo wants to know how her brain works. He used his professional knowledge to make a mess of it. She is still living in a mental hospital."

"I know," the Deer Hunter said. Then he looked at Schiller and said, "What do you want me to do?"

Schiller rested one elbow on the counter table, gently touching his lips with his curved index finger. This could weaken the aggressiveness of his words, making it sound like a responsible professional judgment.

"Hugo is a very conceited person, especially in his professional field. He thinks that being defeated by me last time wasn't because he wasn't professional enough, but because I cheated. So this time, he will definitely try every means to create a timing that can 'compete fairly' to prove that he is by no means weaker than me in professionalism."

"Sounds very old-fashioned," Nightingale evaluated, "I'm not interested in things in the academic circle. I just want to chop him into pieces and feed the dogs."

"There will be such an opportunity," Schiller's tone was cold but not heavy, instead like a thin layer of ice, some breath sounds like cracks, implicitly extending, giving people a sense of uncertainty about when it will completely shatter. Compared to the tough imperative tone, it is more creepy.

"Do you think it will really be fair?" the dwarf asked, "Or you found us here, is it to destroy all of this? Don't misunderstand, I am very happy to do so. But if it is really as you said, letting him lose to you again, it is a real good show."

"Do you think it will really be fair?" Schiller showed a smile. The cold light of the street lamp outside the window shone on his face, blurring every muscle texture, making this short smile not like an expression, but like an illusion.

"You mean he will play tricks?"

Schiller shook his head again and said: "Just think it's fair. He creates an environment he thinks is completely fair, but that's just for him. In fact, everything is favorable to him."

"Sounds very despicable."

"I am too. Otherwise, how do you think I defeated him?"

"You showed him the right way," the dwarf said, "So he is now using this trick to deal with you. Are you sure you can win him?"

"I don't have to win him," Schiller said, "Otherwise I wouldn't have to call you here. I said, I will solve the mental level problems. What you need to solve is his flesh."

"Then why not solve the flesh directly?" the Deer Hunter asked.

"It's not that simple," Schiller shook his head and said, "Hugo Strange has long been dead. No one knows how he returned from hell. What you can kill is only his shell. To completely defeat him, you must defeat his spirit."

Schiller reached out and picked up his certificate from the table, put it into his suit pocket, and said: "His time is running out. Once Cat Getan's sewer is frozen, he will definitely find a way to find me. Brainiac will send you my last position. That won't be an accurate position, you need to find us first."

Schiller looked at the Deer Hunter: "This is why I came to find you. You can continuously chase a wounded deer in the forest until it completely falls. You can also find the two of us with such hunting skills."

"So you watched that," the Deer Hunter smiled and said, "That was indeed a tense and exciting hunting match. And the hunter will always be the winner."

"If it's just like this, I'm afraid it won't take so many people, right?" Nightingale raised her eyebrows and said, "Hugo's body won't be harder than others. As long as you can find him, no one can take a knife."

"Someone will come to protect him," Schiller looked at the corpse on the ground and said, "Don't forget, Hugo has always been good at manipulating. Many people will follow one after another to die for him. Some are also evil ghosts returned from hell."

"Then let me taste the devil," the dwarf said, "The only thing I worry about is, you know this is a trap and you still jump, do you really have the certainty to drag it until we come?"

Schiller showed a smile again: "The detective and the professor jumped off the cliff together, who came back in the end?"

"You want to say, Sherlock Holmes will definitely win over Moriarty?"

"I want to say, the detective and the professor are both me."

"Then what about him?"

"An unlucky passerby who died in an accident." ===== CHAPTER 4500 =====

"Then let me taste the flavor of the devil," the dwarf said. "My only concern is that you know this is a trap and are jumping into it anyway; are you really confident you can drag it out until we arrive?"

Shiler revealed a smile again: "A detective and a professor jump off a cliff together; who comes back in the end?"

"You mean to say, Sherlock Holmes is bound to beat Moriarty?"

"I mean to say, the detective and the professor are both me."

"And him?"

"An unlucky passerby who died in an accident."