Chapter 1134: The Professor (Part 6)

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Schiller and Jonathan walked into Jonathan's hospital room, one after the other. Schiller plopped down on a chair and let out a deep breath.

Jonathan laughed gleefully. Schiller spread his hands, saying in exasperation, "Where do all these brats come from? Why do they have to go against me?"

"Have you ever thought that it might be because you look truly...collectible?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow, staring at Schiller. "Or rather, your life is very collectible."

"I'm very..." Schiller repeated the sentence in confusion, then suddenly widened his eyes as if he'd realized something. "Oh, right, I'm still a famous psychologist."

Jonathan folded his arms and said with a smile, "Ever since you cured Batman, you've been the most famous psychologist in the world."

"It seems these ignorant brats want to make their debut by going after you. Hahahahaha!" Jonathan could hardly contain his laughter as he continued, "Killing the world's most famous psychologist would be quite an achievement for any serial killer. It seems you'll be very busy for a while."

Jonathan sat down opposite Schiller and said, "Now, killing ordinary people can no longer satisfy those arrogant children. They want to kill another serial killer to prove they're the best among us."

"But such people aren't easy to find. Serial killers don't write 'I'm a serial killer' on their faces... Oh, sorry, I forgot, you do." 

Schiller glared at him, and Jonathan chuckled, "Or rather, all they need is to spend a few dimes to buy a magazine about famous people, and they'll see your resume. Then they'll understand that you're a godsend target. It's a miracle they only found you now."

"That's just because ordinary serial killers can't get into Gotham," Schiller said irritably. "That's also one of the reasons I stay in Gotham. I'm so sick of their clumsy tricks. If I had to deal with them every day, I'd have gone crazy long ago."

"So what are you going to do?" Jonathan asked.

Schiller sighed deeply, a hint of pain on his face, and said, "You know, I'm grateful they came late. Otherwise, I'd have to face both their stunts and Bruce's thesis at the same time."

Meanwhile, on the rooftop of Wayne Hospital, a slender figure looked down at the night sky of Gotham. Soon, he descended like a shooting star, following the scent of blood to the streets below.

It wasn't difficult to track the injured fugitive. Even if the killer had exceptional counter-surveillance abilities, Batman was no ordinary police officer. His superhuman techniques and keen observation allowed him to quickly lock onto the killer's trail after the hospital attack.

From the evidence, the killer appeared severely injured. The blood trail near the hospital was very clear, but it seemed he had better treatment supplies. About a kilometer away from the hospital, the blood trail almost disappeared.

Batman deduced that the killer must have a stronghold near the hospital. Otherwise, with such severe injuries, he might as well have stayed at the hospital for treatment. The fact that he dared to run away and was confident he wouldn't die meant he could receive timely treatment and trusted his treatment methods.

From the blood spray patterns at the scene, Harley's shovel must have hit a major artery in his thigh. Such an injury couldn't be dealt with by ordinary bandaging methods. This meant the killer likely had large medical equipment, maybe even hired a doctor.

Batman narrowed his search area to within 1.5 kilometers of the hospital and highly suspected the densely populated residential area to the southeast.

Wayne Hospital was located in a middle-class neighborhood, and to the southeast was a newly developed high-density residential area, used to deceive those who thought they were middle-class. Due to substandard construction conditions, it had no advantages besides its location, so many houses remained unsold.

It would be the ideal choice for moving large equipment without attracting attention. After all, as houses gradually sold, renovations would naturally occur, with trucks coming and going to move furniture. Moving large items wouldn't seem suspicious, and even if they slipped up, it wouldn't be clear who was renovating.

Following this line of thinking, Batman came to this residential area. He believed the killer hadn't expected to be so severely injured and thus didn't prepare for disposing of blood-soaked bandages or other bleeding control tools.

If he didn't deal with them, the room would naturally have a bloody smell. To handle these items, there were many methods, but in Batman's view, this novice killer would undoubtedly choose the method that seemed secure but had the most flaws: burning.

Many people thought burning was the only answer to dealing with all evidence, but in the city, it was the most dangerous method. The fear of fire was deeply ingrained in the human psyche. Fire and smoke easily attracted attention, especially in densely populated areas.

After circling the neighborhood, Batman identified several potential spots, mostly secluded areas with no passersby and good ventilation for dispersing cigarette smoke. As expected, he found clues at one of these spots.

The ashes had been completely cleaned up, but this killer forgot one critical point: smoke would blacken the walls above. Batman felt the wind direction and indeed found smoke stains on the bottom of the curtains on the 2nd to 3rd floors on the right side.

Considering the killer was already injured, whether alone or with an assistant, they would likely take the shortest route to dispose of the evidence. Batman made some deductions and narrowed it down to two likely residential buildings in the densely populated area.

With the scope narrowed to this extent, an exhaustive search would be quick, but Batman still had another lead: this killer liked to cover all bases, eager to erase all evidence.

Batman circled the lobbies of the two buildings and chose the cleaner one. Sure enough, in front of a door on the 4th floor, he found a newly bought doormat.

The mat showed no signs of being stepped on, and the bottom sealant wasn't worn at all. But when he lifted it, he found traces of the previous mat being moved, indicating this mat had just been replaced.

Batman exited the building and found the window of that room. After climbing up to the balcony and peeking inside, he saw no movement.

Batman picked the lock and entered the room, finding no bloodstains, likely due to careful cleaning. However, the equipment set up couldn't be faked - this was indeed the killer's base.

It seemed he was very cautious. Even with severe injuries, he had to relocate immediately. Batman thought, although his modus operandi wasn't as crazy, he was still very careful and formidable.

More importantly, the equipment here was not cheap, which means he is not an ordinary criminal, but a wealthy person, a very wealthy one.

In the living room of this house, Batman found some materials on the table. He guessed that these might have been intentionally left behind by the killer, as other serial killers often do, as a prelude to the next crime.

Batman picked up the stack of materials and noticed that the first few pages contained photos of his crime scene at the hospital.

In addition to the hospital photos, there were also materials on the life of Dr. Richard, with many annotations, but Batman found these thought processes meaningless.

If he focused on them, he would only be falling into the killer's trap. The killer left these things here in the hope that someone would appreciate his masterpiece.

To Batman, a case of this level, requiring a case analysis and a prelude to the next crime, was like putting an eight-times scope on a water gun.

Batman quickly flipped through these documents, finding them too showy and not reflecting the killer's actual thought process at the time, so he did not continue reading. Instead, he quickly skipped to the photo section.

The killer had taken many photos of nearby residential buildings, the hospital, Dr. Richard, and even some nurses working at the hospital, the longest-waiting taxi driver, and even the local gang leader.

Batman mechanically flipped through these photos, his mind not thinking at all, until he came to the last photo.

It was a frontal shot of Schiller.

This photo was clearly not taken by the killer, but rather looked like an official photo published in a magazine to introduce academic achievements. The material was also different from the other photos, not printed from a darkroom but printed on a white sheet of paper.

Looking at that paper, Batman felt like laughing.

He thought the killer's biggest mistake was not directly sticking this paper onto Dr. Richard's forehead. Otherwise, he wouldn't have to be out in the cold wind in the middle of the night, but would already be by Aisha's bed, telling her stories.

Batman put Schiller's photo back on the table and turned to leave. Why bother engaging with such a killer?

Batman realized that when he saw the killer's next target was Schiller, he had made peace with this criminal. Since the target was Schiller, what more could Batman say? He could only wish the killer success.

But just as Batman was about to leave the room, a gust of wind blew in through the window he had opened, knocking the paper with Schiller's photo onto the floor. Batman heard the sound and turned around, only to notice that there were several lines of text written on the back of the paper.

The killer had deliberately written the words crookedly, but Batman could still make out the content:

"The greatest psychologist in the world is like a rare, one-of-a-kind gem, or like a pack of starving wolves that have gone a whole winter without meat, finally seeing their first piece of flesh."

"When I got the news from the newspaper, I knew a hunting frenzy had begun! The most crazed and deranged serial killer cases from around the world are converging on this city, vying to claim this crown..."

"Batman, I know you're watching me, and you will continue to watch me - be crowned!"

The next morning, Schiller woke up early and began examining each patient sent by Gordon, like a quality inspector stamping pigs on an assembly line, continuously calling out, "Next!"

Until a familiar face appeared before him. Schiller looked up to see Bruce's smiling face, and a form was handed to him.

"Good morning, Professor Schiller, I'm transferring back to the psychology department."

Schiller: gasps

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