Chapter 934

The moment Schiller’s umbrella handle touched Pamela’s forehead, the rain outside froze mid-fall; as lightning illuminated Schiller’s face, his anger was plainly visible in his eyes.

The curved surfaces of the raindrops blurred the refracted light; as ripples surged, countless tiny droplets like them rose upward toward the sky, vines and plants receded, and the catgirl had just pried open the pickup truck’s door lock and sat down in the driver’s seat.

The passenger door swung open; Schiller stepped out of the car and strode into Gotham University, where no tight security yet existed—students and faculty here seemed utterly unaware of the horrors unfolding outside.

His leather shoes echoed sharply on the stairs; the old office door creaked open with a groan.

Anna and Victor turned to look at the weary Schiller; before either could speak, he frowned and said: “Didn’t you two go out today? … I mean, leave Gotham University.”

“It’s chaos outside—we should prepare ourselves.”

“What happened now?” Anna stood, smoothed her hair, and frowned at Schiller. “You look like this? Are we about to get a tsunami?”

“Come on, a tsunami wouldn’t make him look like that,” Victor sneered. “If a tsunami were coming, he’d be calling me from the cryo-lab, demanding an ice bomb to freeze the Pacific.”

Anna seemed to hear something; she walked to the window, pulled back the curtain, and saw chaos erupting beyond the campus fence. She turned back, grim-faced, about to speak—when a loud “bang” shattered the door open.

“Professor! Something’s wrong! The Vocational Education College—they’re fighting…!”

The three froze; Victor lunged forward first. “What?! How could the Vocational Education College start fighting?!”

Schiller immediately pulled up his raincoat hood, grabbed his umbrella, and told the student: “Take us there.”

“But…” the student hesitated. “Professors, maybe you should take a gun—things are chaotic there… someone’s already shot someone. I’m afraid for you…”

Before he finished, Anna yanked a large pistol from under the desk; the student swallowed his remaining words, spun around, and ran out. “Hurry! Follow me! If we’re late, someone will die!”

The three sprinted down the stairs, racing to the Vocational Education College building; as gunfire erupted inside, Victor felt a dread settle in. He ran while shouting: “Schiller, is this the chaos you meant? How dare these brats open fire on campus?!”

He pulled an ice gun from inside his trench coat, face dark. “Don’t make me find out who fired first—I’ll freeze their entire family solid.”

“Don’t you see yet? This isn’t just a campus gunfight.”

The three halted before the back gate of the Vocational Education College courtyard; inside, students split into two groups, both armed, facing off.

Victor stormed in, furious: “What are you doing?! It’s class time—why are you all out here?!”

“Professor, you’re finally here!” A tall boy rushed over, pointing at the opposite group. “They shot Roer! Tried to kill him! We know guns aren’t allowed on campus—but we had to protect Roer!”

“Can’t you see? That Roer’s gone mad!” a Black girl shouted back. “He scratched my sister with his nails—we the Fennys aren’t easy prey!”

“You still had no right to shoot his leg! He’s the fastest runner in the college—he’s aiming for a pro career! You’ve ruined his future!”

Both sides erupted again; fortunately, the professors stood between them, and no one dared fire. Anna raised her gun skyward and fired—“Bang!”—and silence fell.

Schiller raised his voice: “Everyone shut up. Put down your guns. Where are Roer and Fenni?”

“Roer’s in the first-floor lounge, Fenni’s in the next classroom—they’re both injured, someone’s bandaging them…”

All three professors entered the building—only to hear a scream. A girl burst out, clutching a bleeding arm; from the crowd stepped Fenni’s younger sister. “Tracy, what happened? Where’s my sister?”

Schiller narrowed his eyes: the girl was Miss Goth, who’d enrolled here before. A deep gash bled steadily down her arm; she looked shell-shocked, unaccustomed to violence.

After a moment of stunned silence, she broke into sobs. “She’s insane! Fenni’s insane—she tried to kill me!”

“Impossible! My sister would never…” The Black girl lunged for the room; Schiller grabbed her. She snarled, thrashing to break free—then a shadow lunged at her.

“Bang!”

Schiller swung his umbrella, striking the shadow away; Victor raised his ice gun, fired—“Whoosh!”—an ice spike pierced the shadow’s abdomen, freezing her solid.

The Black girl rushed forward, then froze. “My sister… how did her eyes turn gray?!! Fenni family never has gray eyes!”

“And my sister’s gentle—she loves caring for others. Why would she attack me?!”

Anna turned to the weeping Miss Goth. “What happened? Why did she attack you? Why did she go mad?”

“I don’t know,” Miss Goth sobbed. Through her fragmented account, they pieced it together.

Since entering Vocational Education College, Miss Goth had struggled with everything—especially after learning of Lady Goth’s death. She fell ill for weeks, cared for constantly by Fenni, the elder sister.

She became an orphan with no family; her marriage prospects vanished. Too terrified to live alone in the hollow, haunted mansion, she resigned herself to staying at the college.

Though raised too delicately, vain and arrogant, she was young and malleable. After some time in communal living, she adapted—barely—and made a few friends, one of whom was Fenni, who’d cared for her.

“Fenni… Fenni and Roer were lovers. Before leaving today, she said she was going on a date with him—but soon returned weeping, her arm slashed open…”

“I’d never seen so much blood—I screamed. Her sister heard, grabbed a gun, went after Roer, and shot him. But Roer’s friends thought she was insane—so they fought.”

“I’m a terrible shot, never been in a shootout—I stayed to watch over Fenni. I used the first-aid kit issued earlier to clean her wound, but the swelling was too severe—I couldn’t clean it properly…”

“Just as I tried to bandage her, she screamed. I thought I’d hurt her—I eased my touch—then she attacked me.”

Miss Goth kept crying, extending her arm—its long, deep wound visible. “I didn’t know… her nails were so sharp…”

“People in Gotham keep going mad. So even Gotham University students aren’t safe.” Schiller turned to the tall boy who’d spoken first. “Has Roer been away from school recently?”

The tall boy scratched his head. “Yeah. Roer joined Gotham University’s track team—his times were exceptional. He represented Gotham in the inter-school league in Metropolis. Heard he did well—just got back yesterday.”

“He’s probably infected,” Schiller murmured. Then, from the adjacent lounge, came a low, agonized moan—followed by a gunshot.

Schiller strode to the door, flung it open—and saw a figure sprawled in the center of the room: a lithe boy still wearing his track team uniform.

His abdomen was shot; he screamed, thrashing: “Get out! Get out of my body! Get out—!”

Without hesitation, Victor fired his ice gun—freezing him solid. Time halted in the ice; his struggles and agony ceased. But then Miss Goth, the scratched girl, screamed again.

Chaos erupted down the hallway. Anna stepped out, gun in hand, and said to Schiller: “I’ll handle this. You and Victor organize defenses. You’ll make whoever invaded here pay, won’t you?”

Schiller rubbed his wrist, smiled coldly, then stepped out of the building with his umbrella. He turned to Victor: “Wake everyone. Issue ice guns. Freeze any mad target you find…”

“What’s going on?” Victor followed, confused. “Why are they going mad?”

He looked sorrowful. “I knew Roer. Two days ago, the track coach bragged to me—he’d found a prodigy sprinter. Said he might win the state league…”

“But now…” Victor shook his head. “Gunshot wounds to leg and abdomen? He’s lucky to survive. Sprinting demands peak physiology—this ends his career.”

Schiller gripped his umbrella, silent. Hearing screams rise beyond the campus wall, he said: “I don’t care if someone plots to invade Gotham and destroy it. I won’t expend extra effort to defend it.”

“Because I know it needs no defense. Those who reach for it will soon realize what they’ve done. I don’t know how stupid they are—to use a madness virus to attack madness itself.”

“But they shouldn’t have invaded Gotham University. Especially not wounded that boy, Roer. They will pay.”

“Why especially Roer?” Victor studied Schiller’s expression—he could feel the storm of rage within him. He heard Schiller reply, voice cold:

“Because the Ivy League is a sports consortium.”