Chapter 961 Schiller’s Blade (Part 1)

Scott was stunned for a moment when he heard this, and then lowered his voice and said: "Are you crazy? You will die!"

As his hand tightened, Schiller found it difficult to breathe. He said intermittently: "So... you must make a decision now and go gamble. Your hands are shaking more than mine now, holding a sharp saber.

When it penetrates my neck, it will not damage the trachea and arteries..."

"Aren't you afraid that I will really kill you?!" Scott asked through gritted teeth.

"You won't do this. As an experienced agent, you know better than me, ahem..." Schiller gasped again, and then said: "He will stand opposite you and try to communicate with you.

It's because your knife is on my neck. If I die, you can only pray that the crocodile monster is not hungry now."

Scott's fingers were obviously trembling. He saw that after subduing all the agents around him, the terrifying monster walked towards him.

Although he is an elite agent who has served for many years, the opponents he has dealt with over the years have only been limited to various vicious or cunning ordinary people, not such monsters that are beyond common sense.

Even in a city like Gotham, Killer Croc's appearance is intimidating enough. It can be seen from the fact that he can't even find a job as a gangster. Even for the unscrupulous Gothamites,

Killer Croc's appearance is also a bit too advanced.

Seeing the tall monster walking towards him, Scott took a few deep breaths and forced his brain to calm down, hoping that he could control his arms and stop shaking.

Just like Schiller said, a hostage is only valuable when he is alive. The consequences of shaking his hands now may be one or two lives.

"If you have no experience in this area, just do as I say." Schiller swallowed and said in a dry voice: "Holding the knife directly, insert it three centimeters behind the scar, and then

Pull it out immediately."

As Batman and Killer Croc approached, Scott knew he had no choice.

Before taking action, he glanced at Batman. The moment Batman caught his eyes, he blurted out a syllable:

"No……"

"Well!!!!!!!!!!"

In an instant, blood spattered, and Batman rushed in front of Schiller. There was a bright red scar on his dark breastplate, like a river of sunset gradually being swallowed up by darkness in Gotham.

At this moment, in the dark underground room, the soil collapsed heavily, and Batman found that he was standing on the bridge, with the Gotham River under his feet under the setting sun.

This tributary that flows into the sea through Gotham is always more humid and turbid than other rivers, because too many dead bones are buried under the secret sand and never see the light of day.

Batman remembered that the last time he had so many fantasies about blood was when he stood in a dark alley and saw a pearl necklace falling on the ground.

It reminded him of the heavy snow in Gotham in winter and the moon hanging far high in the sky.

At this time, he saw fog forming on the river. Soon, the thick fog blocked all sight. The subtle sound of smoke bombs woke Batman up. At this time, the chair in front of him was empty.

, the kidnappers and hostages were missing.

Killer Croc coughed twice, waved away the fog in front of him with his hand and said, "This cunning guy actually used smoke bombs?! Batman, are you okay? You..."

Standing under the bat, he shook his head vigorously. Killer Croc's eyes fell on his arm. Even through the fabric of his clothes, it could be seen that the muscles of Batman's arm were very tight and had begun to move slightly.

Trembling.

"Waylon, Waylon..." Batman suddenly spoke. He turned to look at Killer Croc, staring at him with a burning gaze, and then said: "You can smell blood, right? Chase this guy.

Pick up the scent and catch up with them, quickly!"

Killer Crocodile hesitated for a moment, then shrugged his nose and said, "There is indeed some smell, let me take a look... It should be over here!"

After speaking, he pointed in a direction, and Batman rushed over without thinking. But as soon as he rushed into the passage, he found that a burst of thick smoke was pouring out of the passage. He did not wear an oxygen mask, so he had to go again

Return to the room.

Killer Crocodile peeked inside and choked out. He coughed twice, and then said: "Damn, they are really smart. What they are most afraid of in this kind of closed passage is the thick smoke. Moreover, this

It will destroy my sense of smell, I can’t smell anything now..."

"boom!"

Batman punched the wall with his fist, and he said in a trembling voice: "The wound just now may have damaged an artery or trachea, and first aid must be given immediately."

"Arterial bleeding may still be salvageable, but if the trachea is injured and a large amount of blood flows into the trachea, causing mechanical suffocation, and the trachea is completely blocked, the heart will stop in no more than one minute, and within three minutes,

Must die."

"Find him...find him!!!!"

Batman turned around and rushed out of the room from the other way. When his brain, which contained almost all the wisdom in the universe, began to run at top speed, time seemed to slow down.

When the venom parasitized Batman's body, it was completely unable to compete with Batman's willpower, so there was almost no room for it to show its symbiote characteristics, such as taking over the host's body and condensing it.

Armor, high-speed recovery, etc.

The gray mist has completely different properties from Venom, so Batman did not discover that Schiller's ability to turn into gray mist came from the same symbiote as Venom.

He believed that this ability, like Constantine's magic, needed to be activated and controlled manually.

Batman has previously written about Constantine's weaknesses. As long as he breaks his limbs before he casts a spell, or directly makes him unable to make sounds or make movements, then most of them will be defeated.

Magic cannot be cast successfully.

The weakness of mages has always been their bodies. Once their bodies are severely damaged and unable to perform precise movements, they will easily lose all the way and lose the possibility of a comeback.

By analogy, if Schiller was only in poor mental condition before and was picked up by the agents at the right time, now his severely damaged body may mean that he has completely lost his ability to resist and is in great danger.

The reason why Schiller revealed the identity of the organizer of the Central American revolution when he was arrested by the agents was probably to cover Alfred. He may have felt that his exposure was inevitable, so he might as well directly deny it.

An important identity, protecting the safety of important comrades.

Now, Batman understands that he is not racing against agents, but against time, or in other words, against the speed at which Schiller is losing his life.

On the other side, Schiller covered his neck and sat down on one side of the passage. Scott tore the hem of his clothes into strips of cloth to bandage Schiller.

"You are more nervous than I imagined, Mr. Agent." Schiller pressed the wound and wrapped the bandage. He said, "If your hand shakes one more time, we will only meet in hell."

Scott cursed and then said: "You are really the craziest lunatic I have ever seen! I really don't understand, what on earth do you want to do?!"

"Me?" Schiller pretended to put on the bandage, and then used the gray mist to heal most of the wounds, leaving only some superficial wounds to continue to bleed. He sat in the dark passage, leaning his back against the cold and dry wall.

, looked up at the ceiling and said:

"Mr. Agent, I have to say that the concentration of truth serum you used is very high. Don't you think now is a good time for interrogation?"

"Fuck the interrogation!" Scott looked at Schiller with a bit of a breakdown and said, "Is it time for the interrogation now? That damn crocodile man, and that psychopath dressed as a bat, what on earth is going on with them?"

"Why are they chasing us? How can we get out of here?" Scott kept taking deep breaths, trying to calm down.

However, the environment in the underground passage is not suitable for human survival. Being in this environment for a long time will put a lot of pressure on people's emotions. Scott felt that his senses were amplified.

Any slightest disturbance would make him feel nervous.

"Don't be nervous, you should relax, just like me." Schiller took out a cigarette from his suit pocket. Scott's eyes widened, but Schiller shook his head and said, "You just

Where are the things for starting a fire?"

"Light a cigarette for me, sir, so that I can recover quickly, and then follow you out of this hellish place as you wish." Schiller still had some difficulty speaking. He spoke very quickly, but there were gaps between sentences.

There was a long pause, and along with the light of the cigarette, Scott saw that the hand holding the cigarette was shaking violently.

"How do you feel?" Scott glanced at the blood on his neck, and then said: "You'd better not die here, you'd better not..."

"Don't worry, I can't die." Schiller coughed hard. In an instant, the blood completely soaked the bandage and overflowed from the wound again. His voice was hoarse and trembling, just like Scott often said.

The kind of drug addict you see.

"It's just that the large dose of barbiturates caused some spasms in my bronchial tubes and made it difficult to breathe. In addition, my heart rate was also a little irregular, and my body temperature dropped by about two degrees. If you can get a shot of epinephrine, I think I can

It will be better.”

Just as Scott was about to speak, Schiller continued speaking quickly: "But I have to say, as a drug for drug interrogation, it does make me feel very relaxed. My brain is urging me to say something.

What……"

"What are you going to say?" Scott finally recovered a little. He sat opposite Schiller, watched the light of the cigarette in his hand flicker, and said, "How did you organize and lead the revolution in Central America?

"

"Don't mention those boring things." Schiller shook his head and put the cigarette into his mouth with some effort with his trembling arms. The shaking of his arms also started to shake his lips, and he had to grit his teeth.

This will ensure that the cigarette does not fall out.

As a result, his voice became a little unclear, as if it was squeezed out from between his teeth, and he said:

"Perhaps you have seen many criminals with high IQs. They graduated from prestigious schools, have extraordinary talents, and achieved fame. Without any external coercion or environmental pressure, they just embarked on a criminal path."

"When you face them, you feel puzzled. Why do they waste their talents like this? Why don't they cherish the gifts God gave them? You feel that they are born bad, even worse than ordinary people who do evil.

Even worse……"

"Actually, you are jealous of them. You are jealous that they have everything you don't have, but they waste these precious things unscrupulously..."

"Talent, youth, friendship, love..." Schiller's voice seemed to be covered with a layer of hazy and old dust when it echoed in the narrow passage.

Scott's reason was telling him not to listen to such a madman, but he was listening to his story as if he was being tempted by the devil.

"How you view these highly intelligent criminals is how I view you, ordinary people..."

"You are born bad, bugs that make me sick, stupid and dirty garbage..."

Schiller began to breathe heavily again. He seemed to be excited again. Even an overdose of sedative drugs could not stop his excitement. The flame of the cigarette was already shaking like painting in the air.
To be continued...