Chapter 573

In Professor Schiller's office at Gotham University, Victor stood on a stool, stretching his arm upward to twist the lightbulb on the ceiling.

He removed the old, broken bulb, held it in his hand, and said: "If Gotham ever builds a museum, I'll donate this bulb—it could even be displayed in the main exhibit on the first floor, since it's accumulated the corpses of over twenty generations of insects…"

Anna, holding the flashlight below, made a disgusted face and said: "Can you please stop talking about something so disgusting? I haven't eaten breakfast yet."

"Did you hear the sirens?" Schiller, also looking up from beside them, said: "Three police cars have passed by here since just now. It's not unusual in Gotham, but the frequency is too high."

"There's been a murder at Gotham University. While a death isn't rare here, someone daring to strike openly inside a dormitory changes the nature of the case entirely."

"The Godfather believes the Elliot family is challenging his authority. Recently, the Falcone and Elliot families have been clashing—tensions are rising," Anna said, frowning.

Victor sighed as he installed the new bulb. "Actually, I had a good impression of Thomas—he was polite, earnest about his studies. How could he…"

"By the way," Schiller suddenly said, "the deceased Doris was a chemistry student. Did you teach her?"

"She's a senior this year and rarely attends classes, so I don't know her personally. But a few girls in my course were in her group—I've heard about her from them."

Victor paused his hands, recalling: "They gossiped about Doris's boyfriend—said he was young and accomplished, incredibly handsome, a charming guy. No wonder Doris was so obsessed with him."

"I heard Doris's boyfriend works at the Metropolitan Central Research Institute?" Schiller asked.

"Correct. And he's young—already researching under a famous mentor. Rumor has it that after finishing this year's project, he'll be promoted from intern to full assistant. That's not easy."

Anna widened her eyes in surprise. "How old is Doris's boyfriend? To become a full assistant at the Central Research Institute already? That truly is young talent."

"Yes," Victor said, lost in memory. "I once had a colleague who came from the Metropolitan Central Research Institute. That place is full of geniuses—you need real ability just to hold a spot there."

"I heard from a new student from Metropolis, Lex, that he called the Central Research Institute and reached Doris's boyfriend, David—but David was cold, even refused to come see Doris one last time," Schiller sighed.

"That's strange. I heard those girls say they were deeply in love—especially David. Every time he came to Gotham to see her, he brought her a huge bouquet. Those girls were all envious," Victor shook his head.

"Life is unpredictable. That's why I often tell my students not to center their lives on romance," Anna said, walking over and slamming her book onto the desk. "Young love is impulsive and unreliable. If Doris were alive, she'd be wailing now over her boyfriend's coldness."

Schiller watched Victor's movements. "Done yet? Aren't you the world's most famous low-temperature scientist? How can changing a lightbulb be this hard?"

"What does being a low-temperature scientist have to do with changing a bulb?" Victor coughed from the dust on the lampshade, waved his hand in front of his face to clear it, and kept focusing on the bulb.

"This socket is unresponsive—I'm cleaning it. If I don't get it clean, it'll keep malfunctioning after installation… Oh, there. I've screwed it in. Anna, flip the circuit breaker—see if it lights up…"

Anna stepped outside the room, opened the electrical panel, and raised the switch. Instantly, the room flooded with light. Victor and Schiller both exhaled in relief. Schiller reached out and helped Victor down from the stool.

But just then—*pop*—the bulb went dark again. Victor staggered on the stool, nearly falling, but Schiller caught him. Anna re-entered with the flashlight. Victor had to climb back onto the stool to inspect the bulb once more.

He unscrewed the bulb again, checked it, and said: "No, it's not the bulb—it's a power outage."

It was early morning. The room was pitch black without lights. Anna walked to the door and glanced down the hallway. "Alright, looks like our building's lost power again."

"What's going on lately?" Schiller frowned, stepping out into the hallway and approaching the window. "Seven power outages in three days—and always our building. Even during the snowstorm, it wasn't this bad. What are the power authorities even doing?"

The First Cause of the Ten Thousand Realms

"Don't blame the power authorities. Every other building outside Gotham University is fine. Last time, I stopped a repairman—he said it was aging wiring. A useless excuse. No one can fix it," Anna shrugged.

"This can't go on—it's disrupting classes," Victor said, stepping out. "Let's go check the electrical room. If it's really aging wiring, I might have a solution."

"You're in chemistry. Do you know electricity? … Oh right—you built your wife's cryogenic device all by yourself. Do you have degrees in physics and mechanical engineering too?" Anna raised an eyebrow.

Victor smiled, leading the way. Near the stairwell, he turned, leaned his elbow on the railing, and said: "You're right. Besides that, I also hold degrees in materials science and engineering…"

Anna shook her head, shrugged, and hurried up the stairs after Victor. Schiller paused briefly by the window—he'd seen a police car parked at the east side of Gotham University, outside the west entrance of the gymnasium.

The electrical room was close to the teaching building. The three entered quickly. Signs of recent repairs were visible, but they'd done no good—all three electrical panels were offline.

Victor began inspecting each panel. Even Anna could help. Schiller could only watch—once opened, the panels contained hundreds of tangled wires.

"I say this panel belongs in a museum. I've spotted at least five generations of tech upgrades here. Did Europeans install this?" Schiller said, incredulous.

"Not that exaggerated," Victor said, sorting the wires. "It just looks messy—once organized, it's fine. If you think the dust's too bad, wait outside…"

"Alright, I—" Schiller turned to leave—*bang! *—the electrical room door burst open. Several police officers rushed in, guns raised. Schiller frowned, then spotted the familiar face of Gordon among them.

Gordon saw Schiller and Victor, looked startled, hurried through the crowd, and pushed down the officers' guns. "What are you doing here?"

"That's what I'd like to ask you, Detective Gordon. Why are you here?"

"About half an hour ago," Gordon said calmly and methodically, "we received a report of another murder at Gotham University—the scene was in the gymnasium's locker room."

"The victim, Karina, was a second-year student and a cheerleader. About half an hour ago, she was strangled with a belt."

"At the time, the cheerleading squad was rehearsing next door. In just five minutes, Karina lost her breath. No witnesses—because at that exact moment…"

"The power went out," Schiller finished. Just half an hour ago, their office had lost power too—that's why they'd come to check the electrical room. Clearly, the police had reached the same conclusion.

Gordon crossed his arms and sighed. "Technicians checked the gym locker room lights—the bulb was new, no problem. The circuit breaker was functioning. The only possible fault is here."

"Hey! Someone help me!" Victor suddenly called. Schiller moved to assist, but Gordon signaled his subordinate. The young officer stepped forward and took the flashlight from Victor's hand.

Victor's upper body was half inside the massive electrical panel, inspecting deeper components. After a moment, he straightened, smoothed his messy hair, and said: "These recent outages aren't accidents or due to aging wiring—they're deliberate."

At this, Gordon and Schiller both narrowed their eyes. They both realized the same thing: murder. The only person who benefits from power outages is the killer.

Elsewhere, students might welcome a blackout to skip class. But at Gotham University, even without class, there's nowhere safe to go—the outside world is too dangerous.

Staying in a powerless school is torture. No student would sabotage the electrical room just to avoid class.

Victor leaned back into the panel again, pointing inside: "Wiring might age—but a controller doesn't appear out of nowhere. Someone installed a remote switch here. If I'm right, every power system in the campus has been fitted with this device."

"What's the point?" Gordon admitted he hadn't seen what Victor pointed at—and even if he had, he wouldn't understand. He asked directly.

"Clearly, it can cut power to the entire school. I suspect it can even shut down a single building—or even a single room."

Victor rubbed his chin. "Actually, to cut power to a building or room, you don't need anything this complicated. Just come here, find the panel, and make a simple adjustment."

"So he needs this device because he can't come here regularly—he must control it remotely," Schiller said.

"Then he's probably not a student or faculty member. Likely an outsider," Gordon deduced. He looked at Victor. "Professor Victor, check this device—see if you can trace the signal to whoever's holding the remote. I'll review the security footage at the gates—look for suspicious people."

Gordon sighed, ushered the other officers out, and spoke once only he and the professors remained: "The murders at Gotham University have angered the Godfather. He believes this is a direct challenge to his authority—and I'm under immense pressure."

"If you have any leads, tell me. The students are innocent. I don't want another tragedy."

He'd barely finished when an officer burst in, shouting: "Third floor! Someone's been attacked on the third floor!"

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