Chapter 798: The Killing Joke (Part 22)

Bruce first looked Schiller up and down and said to him: "There's a rule to this game, which is that you can't use any special abilities."

Schiller followed his gaze and saw the umbrella in his hand. He said: "This is just an umbrella; I won't use it for anything else."

Bruce stared at him for 30 seconds. Schiller eventually made the umbrella disappear into thin air and said: "Fine, a world where you have to buy your own umbrella is truly cruel. Let's go, where is your home?"

"Are you planning to stay at my place? Aren't you planning to go find a home for yourself?" Bruce asked again.

Schiller took a deep breath and said: "Bruce Wayne, I hope you can show a little basic respect to a teacher who has been chasing you for a thesis for over two months, checking your assignments for over two months, and urging you on for over two months."

"You insisted on making me come to the slums to experience life, not only not letting me bring money or abilities, but not even letting me bring an umbrella. And now you're actually planning to let me find a house by myself on the first night?!"

"What, has your failed slum life over the past two months not made you realize that respecting your teacher is the only way to preserve the little humanity you have left, given that you've already turned into a stray dog both physiologically and in most psychological aspects?"

Hearing Schiller say this, Bruce actually felt relieved. Schiller's state just now was truly too strange; he even felt that Schiller had softened.

Fortunately, his professor had returned to normal in just a few minutes, returning to his style of hating everyone equally.

So Bruce nodded and said: "My home is a bit far. If you want to come, it might be a long walk."

"Then why don't we catch a ride?" Schiller asked back.

"There are no taxis here." Bruce replied, saying: "If you want to hitch a ride, how do you judge which car can be hitched?"

"Why would you need to judge that?" Schiller looked Bruce up and down, as if he thought there was something wrong with his brain. Bruce made a "please" gesture, meaning "you do it yourself."

Schiller shrugged slightly, but he didn't look at the road. Instead, he looked left and right. He found that although the area was very deserted, there were a few shops, one of which was a nightclub.

In Bruce's field of vision, he saw Schiller walk straight toward the nightclub. Bruce thought he was going to ask for directions. That excited emotion of wanting to laugh out loud occupied the high ground again.

But soon, he couldn't laugh anymore.

Because Schiller walked into the nightclub, and after a while, dragged someone out from inside.

Judging by the attire, that should have been the nightclub's security guard. At this moment, his life or death was unknown, lying on the ground without any consciousness. Schiller pulled the gun the guard was holding out of his hand, opened the magazine to check the bullets, reinstalled the magazine, and then chambered a round.

He carried the shotgun and stood in the middle of the road. After a harsh screech of brakes, the truck driver's cursing hadn't even left his mouth before he had a gun pointed at his head.

Schiller stood by the window, shook his head at Bruce, and told him to say the destination. Bruce opened his mouth and said: "No, we can't..."

"Don't kill me! Don't kill me!" the driver yelled: "Where are you lunatics from? You dare to hijack the Viper Gang's goods?!"

"We don't want the goods." Schiller said very calmly: "We'll give you a location; you drive there."

The driver, who had just been yelling, suddenly took on a hint of a crying tone and said: "The goods... the goods are yours, just let me go, I haven't offended you..."

"Get in the car." Schiller tilted his head again and looked at Bruce, who was still standing in place. He said: "What are you still standing there for? Go open the cargo door."

After saying that, he walked straight onto the car and sat in the passenger seat, but he put the gun away. The driver didn't dare to move at all, even though there was another gun right by his hand.

Schiller glanced at the watch on his wrist, pushed up his glasses, and said: "Can we get there before 9 o'clock?"

"Yes... yes, I think so, as long as there's no traffic jam... fine, definitely." The driver swallowed, secretly glanced at Schiller, and then said nothing, stepped on the gas, and sped away.

The original half-hour journey was compressed into 15 minutes. After getting off the car, Bruce felt like vomiting from the shaking. After getting off, Schiller held the gun and pointed forward, saying: "Where is your home? Lead the way."

Bruce looked at the truck, speechless, as it disappeared into the Cat Getan night at a speed like a desperate escape, so fast that even the exhaust couldn't be seen.

He could only lead the way in front, because Schiller had a gun now, and he didn't.

"Did you kill that security guard?" Bruce asked.

"Of course not, why would I kill him?" Schiller looked around at the environment as he walked, and Bruce asked again: "What method did you use to knock him out? Did you cheat?"

Schiller shook his head and said: "Very simple. Make a little noise in the utility room nearby to lure one of them away, then take a vase from the utility room and hit the back of their head with it. Don't say it's me; anyone taller than 1.6 meters could do it."

Bruce was silent. Then, he walked toward the shallow beach in front of him and pointed to one of the cans, saying to Schiller: "This is my home, but it looks like you wouldn't be able to fit."

Schiller looked around at the environment. Bruce's house wasn't the only one; the various buildings in the "Can Zone" were basically all the same style. Calling it "war-damage style" was a bit of an insult to Syria.

"You live here?" Schiller's voice was a bit distorted by the sea breeze, but Bruce had absolutely no intention of beating around the bush. He pointed to the unextinguished fire next to him and said: "We have to get the fire lit before it rains, otherwise it definitely won't light."

Schiller looked up at the sky. It was covered in dark clouds, and it was definitely going to rain soon. He pointed at Bruce with the barrel of the gun and said: "Looks like we'll have to find a house in a hurry tonight."

After saying that, Schiller walked out, and Bruce followed behind him. Schiller looked back at the tent he lived in and said: "This kind of architectural art is still a bit too early for humans."

And before leaving the shallow beach, Schiller threw the gun on the ground. Bruce opened his eyes wide, seemingly not understanding why he would do that.

Schiller looked at the gun and said: "If I didn't want to get here quickly, I wouldn't have wanted to use such a violent method. I actually hate violence; pointing a gun at others has no aesthetic appeal at all. Let's go."

After saying that, he stepped onto the steps leaving the shallow beach. Bruce had to admit that he felt a bit tempted seeing the gun Schiller had dropped. No one understood the importance of a gun better than him. He felt Schiller had made a wrong decision.

Having a gun doesn't necessarily make things better, but not having one only makes things worse. This was the principle Bruce had learned in these two months. He had possessed weapons several times, but many things couldn't be solved by weapons.

Schiller didn't catch a ride again but kept walking forward. Fortunately, this wasn't too far from his target location, and the buildings of the "Living Hell" were very conspicuous and could be seen from far away.

Upon seeing the buildings of the "Living Hell" and the direction Schiller was walking, Bruce knew. His target was the "Living Hell."

After Schiller entered the interior of the "Living Hell" building, it finally started to rain. Bruce said: "I know who to find to rent a house. I can go talk to him, but you have to pay the money yourself. Do you have money?"

"I don't, but you can go find the landlord first. I'll look around here." Schiller looked up at the lights above his head and said: "I'll wait for you in this corridor."

Bruce didn't think too much. He turned and went downstairs to find the landlord inside the "Living Hell." The public security here was much better; he only needed to ask the guard at the door downstairs for the owner of the house, and he could go straight up to knock on the door.

By the time Bruce found the landlord and asked about the price, and then went back to find Schiller, he discovered that Schiller wasn't in the corridor, and one of the doors in the corridor, which had all been tightly closed, was now open.

He walked up to that door and found Schiller standing in the living room, holding a pack of cigarettes with some disgust, seemingly checking the brand.

Seeing Bruce appear, he turned his head and said: "Oh, you're here? Please sit."

The tone was as natural as if he were in his own home, and his demeanor was as relaxed as if he hadn't just done anything. Bruce looked him up and down from head to toe, from his hair to his instep, without any trace of guilt, only relaxation and comfort.

Schiller lit a cigarette, took a puff, raised his head to exhale the smoke, and said: "This is a two-bedroom house. If you rent one room, you only need to pay me 5 dollars in rent per week."

"What about the original owner of this house?" Bruce asked standing outside the door. He said: "Every tenant here is registered. You'll be kicked out."

Just as he said this, the landlord Bruce had contacted came up. Seeing Bruce standing outside the door, he walked over with some confusion, and then saw Schiller standing inside the room. He asked with some confusion: "Who are you? Where's Joe?"

"Hello, I'm Rodriguez, the owner of this house. So the intruder just now was named Joe. I scared him away. Thank you for worrying about my safety." Schiller walked up and shook hands with the landlord.

The landlord was stunned, because Schiller said it so naturally that he really doubted his own memory for a moment, and then he said: "No, what nonsense are you talking about? Are you drunk? I clearly rented it to Joe. Where did you come from..."

"Regardless, today is a day worth celebrating." Schiller stood on his tiptoes, looking a bit excited, and said: "Moving into a new home, someone should come to congratulate me. Bruce, come in quickly, and this gentleman, we can hold a small party..."

After saying that, he turned and walked toward the refrigerator. After opening the refrigerator door, he said: "Oh, not bad, there's still a pizza here. I remember now, I must have ordered it yesterday..."

In the gap where the refrigerator door was open, Bruce saw a chair leg stained with blood. Then looking at the three chairs next to the square dining table, his footsteps entering the door hesitated.

A "gulp" sound came from behind him. He turned around and saw the landlord swallowing his saliva.

And at this time, Schiller stood up from next to the refrigerator. He waved at the two of them and said: "Why haven't you come in yet? There are three chairs here, just enough for us to sit..."

"No, no, Mr. Rodriguez, that... I came up just to remind you, the rent is ten dollars a week, due next Wednesday." After the landlord finished speaking, he left immediately.

Bruce touched his chest, feeling his conscience hurt a little, so he asked: "What about the tenant named Joe!"

"That intruder was thrown downstairs by me. It's a pity this is the 3rd floor. I hope he can get enough of a lesson."

Schiller turned to look at Bruce and said: "Cat Getan's iron law: don't break into other people's houses unless you've been invited by the homeowner. Bruce, do you want to come to the housewarming party?"

Looking at Schiller walking toward him, Bruce instinctively shook his head, and then he heard Schiller say: "Cat Getan's iron law number two: if the homeowner invites you, you'd better come in quickly."

Bruce watched helplessly as Schiller dragged a chair out from behind the door, broke off one of its legs, and after pulling off most of the wooden splinters, it turned into a sharp awl.

The moment he met Schiller's eyes, Bruce stepped onto the doormat and said with a somewhat stiff tone: "Congratulations on moving." ===== CHAPTER 799 =====