Chapter 1194 Lamb's Cry (Part Fifteen) (Patreon)

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The nights in Colorado are much milder than in Gotham. The climate here is quite nice, with fewer rainy and foggy days, so even when night falls, the bright moonlight illuminates the buildings clearly.

The lonely Florence Supermax Prison, nestled at the foot of the mountains, appears even more desolate and somewhat terrifying under the bright moonlight. The residents of nearby Denver know that a prison has been built in the remote area, but they have no idea what kind of madmen are being held there.

Ignorance is sometimes a blessing. If they knew the truth about this prison, they would never have a good night's sleep again.

When a stretched limousine stopped at the prison gate, Bruce, dressed in a suit, got out and personally opened the car door for Amanda. Davis, who had been waiting at the prison gate, greeted them warmly and shook hands with Bruce.

"I'm deeply saddened by William's death. I don't know what kind of ruthless killer would dare to strike at the Federal Bureau of Investigation base, and I don't know what he hoped to gain from it," Bruce casually brought up the topic.

As Davis led the two of them into the prison, he sighed, "The killer must be insane. Did he really think he wouldn't be discovered committing a crime at the Federal Bureau of Investigation? In fact, someone has already found a clue, and I don't think it will be long before the killer is brought to justice."

Bruce nodded and smiled, "I have confidence in the efficiency of the Federal Bureau of Investigation's investigation, but I've also told Amanda that many people attribute this incident to the revenge of serial killers against your plan. They feel very dissatisfied, believing that your plan was too reckless, leading to such consequences."

Amanda snorted, "They think the whole world is reckless. It's best to just leave the criminals alone, as long as they don't harm them."

Davis coughed lightly, seemingly reminding Amanda not to make such radical statements. Amanda turned her head to the side, apparently not wanting to continue the topic.

The three of them entered the building through a narrow side corridor. Bruce seemed quite curious about the environment, examining the structure of the building up and down.

After a while, he shook his head and said, "Miss Waller, as I said, your idea is not bad. Putting serial killers in a super-prison and then taming them is theoretically feasible."

"Serial killers are not ignorant blocks of wood. Although they don't see themselves as human, they are still human beings. As long as they are human, they can be tamed, and the key is the method of taming."

Amanda still appeared very dissatisfied. She said, "If you think violent taming is wrong, do you want me to reason with them gently? After all these years of living in society, they haven't even understood the most basic reason. If we can't give them enough pain, how will they learn their lesson?"

Bruce shook his head and said, "Sometimes violent means are necessary, but it can't be just violence. I want to fill that gap."

"Miss Waller, I'm sure you've heard of the very famous murder case. Decades ago, my parents, the Wayne couple, were killed in a murder. All these years, I've been tracking the killer's trail and planning to take revenge."

"My hatred for criminals is no less than yours. Knowing that there are people in this world like me, who have been planning for years to deal with criminals, makes me feel happy."

Amanda frowned slightly, but it wasn't a sign of dissatisfaction. She was trying to recall the details of the Thomas Wayne couple's case. She shook her head and said, "I've heard of that case, but the murders that happen in Gotham are all quite mysterious. Have you found the killer?"

"Yes, he's not a serial killer, just someone who was hired. By the time I found him, he was already close to death, so there's not much point in pursuing him further."

Bruce's words and the tone of his voice made Amanda feel relieved. If Bruce had said his parents were also killed by a serial killer, Amanda would have become suspicious.

"I still haven't found the killer of my parents and younger brother," Amanda said, pursing her lips. "Professor Schiller made a remarkable contribution to that."

"What's going on between you two?" Bruce asked with some confusion, turning back to them.

"He was my university professor. After my family was killed, I sought his help, but he refused. When I found a clue that pointed to a newsstand, he burned it down in advance, interrupting the clue. To this day, I still haven't found the killer."

Amanda took a deep breath and continued, "Later, I learned that they were communicating through newspapers and magazines. Schiller destroyed my clues in order to eliminate the traces of their communication."

Bruce nodded and didn't ask any more questions. At this time, they arrived in front of a room. Davis, while inputting the password, said, "You said you wanted to see Professor Schiller, so I had someone bring him here in advance. Although he just had surgery and has almost no mobility, it's best not to have physical contact with him to ensure your safety."

The thick door opened, revealing a closed room with only a light bulb hanging from the ceiling and a chair. Schiller was still restrained in the chair, but since his wound hadn't healed yet, he wasn't wearing a restraint suit, just a regular prison uniform. His hands were fixed to the armrests and his neck to the backrest.

When the door opened, Bruce raised an eyebrow, as it was clearly visible that Schiller's condition was very poor. The pale complexion from blood loss and the haggardness from the recovery period made him look extremely weak.

Amanda observed Bruce's expression and was now certain that Bruce didn't actually plan to rescue Schiller, as he didn't show any anger, sadness, or distress.

"Professor, we meet again," Bruce said calmly.

Schiller didn't look at him at all, but Bruce walked up to him and then circled around to his back. Due to the cover-up of the prison uniform, Bruce could only see the suture marks on the back of Schiller's neck, but that was enough for him to judge how seriously Schiller was injured.

"During the many days since we parted, I've been pondering a question," Bruce said, pacing around the room. "What exactly are you trying to make me understand with this series of actions?"

"Of course, the answer may be multifaceted. Perhaps to make me understand not to easily fall into the Stockholm syndrome, or to believe that pathology will inevitably coexist with me and can never be escaped, only accepted."

"Or perhaps to make me more deeply understand the words you said before, that only criminals can deal with criminals, or that I must first acknowledge myself as a criminal and understand criminals in order to deal with them."

As Bruce reached this point, he stopped in his tracks, standing right in front of Schiller. He looked at Schiller and shook his head, saying, "But I feel this is not the final answer, or rather, these answers can be summarized into one answer - patriarchy."

"There are many forms of power in this world, but the power of the Majority is built on distrust and hatred. Because of distrust, because of hatred, they need to use power to rule. Power serves the hatred of those who possess it."

"But there is only one power that is different - patriarchy."

"It is born out of love, and it also serves the love of the father. Perhaps the father's love is distorted, perhaps the way of exercising power is wrong, but it is still born out of the father's love for his children, or what he believes to be love."

"Before the children become adults, the family is a completely closed environment for them. They have no ability to leave, and in this environment, they are easily susceptible to Stockholm syndrome, lowering their standards and taming themselves to love the father."

"The violence, brutality, jealousy, and desire for control that the father displays in the process of exercising power make the children more acutely aware of human pathology."

"The father uses his own power to force the children to understand him, and when he understands his children, one day he will compete with them for power."

"In the process of growing up, let the balance tilt towards your own side, so that when the father grows old and loses power, you can completely take over his power and become the new executor of patriarchy."

"At first, I thought I should focus on the power part of patriarchy, but now I realize I should focus on the part of patriarchy that is most different from other powers - love."

Bruce walked to the door and said a few words to Davis at the door. Davis glanced at Amanda, and Amanda nodded slightly, so Davis left.

After a while, two security guards brought in a regular table, and Bruce took a metal tray from two doctors in white coats and placed it on the table.

The metal tray had a cup, a transparent tube, and a needle. Bruce put on gloves, and it was not until then that Schiller looked up and asked in a hoarse voice, "What are you going to do?"

"Draw blood," Bruce replied.

A series of deep laughter came, and although Schiller was having difficulty speaking, his laughter still gave a great sense of pressure. He looked at Bruce and said, "Come on, let me give you back those 1,000 milliliters of blood, and we'll be even."

But Bruce shook his head, put on his gloves, picked up the injection syringe, and unhesitatingly inserted the needle into his own arm, watching the red blood flow out and fill the entire blood bag.

Schiller stared intently at his movements, and Amanda, standing behind Bruce, for the first time did not see the proud, confident look in the Professor's eyes.

When the blood bag was full, Bruce pulled out the needle, swirled the bag a bit, and then poured the blood into a glass nearby.

The full glass of blood, once out of the sealed container, immediately gave off a bloody smell.

Bruce, expressionless, brought the glass of blood to Schiller's face. Schiller looked up at him, and Bruce's face was submerged in the backlight, with both divinity and evil dissolved in his azure eyes.

"Batman..." Schiller instinctively called out.

"You know, Pride has worked hard for so long just to complete Joker's mission as soon as possible, so that he won't be entangled with my fate anymore. You also know that he is a good teacher and would never harm his students just for fun."

Bruce spoke in a low voice as he held the glass of fresh blood to Schiller's lips and said, "But as long as you drink Batman's blood, Pride can never be free. He will forever be entangled with me, and he will have violated his own principles as a teacher, becoming a monster who abuses his students."

Schiller slowly widened his eyes. He looked up at Bruce, but his body instinctively retreated, until the back of his head was pressed against the chair, with nowhere else to go.

But the glass of blood kept approaching, and Schiller could only turn his head to avoid the bloody smell.

The next moment, Bruce's gloved hand directly captured Schiller's jaw, turning his head, and the thumb pushed into the gap of the teeth, forcibly prying open Schiller's jaw. The other hand tilted the glass, pouring the fresh blood directly into his mouth.

With a "whoosh," Schiller disappeared from the chair in Amanda's astonished gaze, and the next moment, he appeared in the corner of the room.

Schiller was kneeling on the ground, clutching his blood-stained mouth, coughing and vomiting violently, not caring about the severe tremors that tore open the wounds on his back, staining half of his prison uniform with blood.

Bruce walked over with the glass, and Schiller staggered to his feet, trying to avoid him. Bruce threw the glass to the ground and picked up a shard, using maximum force to slash his own palm.

Schiller's movements stiffened for a moment, and then his expression became dull.

As the fresh blood on Bruce's palm burst out, the gray mist invaded, knocking him to the ground.

Just as the Gray Mist was about to condense into a human form, Bruce quickly stood up and grabbed Schiller's neck from behind.

Schiller grabbed Bruce's wrist and shook him off, and the blood on Bruce's hand splattered onto Schiller's face.

When the two finished their struggle and retreated, there was no composed expression, no graceful posture, both covered in blood and pale, looking like madmen and vagrants.

The balance only lasted for less than a second, and one of the figures weakly knelt down, covering his blood-stained mouth with his hand, trembling all over.

The other figure walked up to him and threw down the glass shard covered in blood.

Bruce wiped his blood-stained palm across his own cheek, kneeling down in the midst of the bloody mess as well.

His outstretched hands were like a bewildered infant, or like the spread wings of a bat.

Amidst the mess, Bruce slowly embraced Schiller.

Embracing his mentor, his nemesis, his savior and father, his... lamb.

Other authors write up to the prelude to torturing the master, and the readers are crying their hearts out.

I write up to the prelude to torturing the master, and the comment section is... a mess?

What are you all doing? No seizing! No seizing!

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 1195 Lamb's Cry (Part Sixteen)