Chapter 926: Deep in the Mist and Rain (I)

As the strong winds at night gradually subsided, the dark clouds that had been hanging over Gotham for years actually dissipated a little. The next day was a rare good day in Gotham, but there was only a little mist.

Schiller got up early, put on his leather boots, picked up a gardening shovel, and went to the garden downstairs.

In the tool room next to him, Merkel picked up the pot for boiling milk, poured the milk into the pot, and came to the oak tree in the garden with the milk pot and tea bags. Schiller was sorting out the water pipes he had taken out yesterday.

Merkel sprinkled a handful of tea leaves into the cup, then poured the steaming milk into the cup, and the white mist rose and the fragrance of English milk tea spread.

Schiller took the small cup with a handle that could only fit a finger. He shook his head and said, "I really don't know if I can drink milk tea in the morning. Is there no coffee raw material in the manor?"

After that, he took a sip of English milk tea. It tasted really good, not sweet, and the taste of tea leaves was more obvious, which made Schiller, who didn't like drinking milk, barely accept it. Merkel shook his head and said, "No, sir, the coffee raw materials and coffee machine are ready, but this kind of weather reminds me of my hometown."

"Britain is always rainy like this. In the farm owned by my family, after a strong wind, the weather will be clearer and everyone will get up early."

"At this time, the farm workers will Go to the neighbor's house and buy freshly squeezed milk. To be honest, it tastes much better than what we drink now..."

Schiller took another sip of milk tea, and Merkel also made herself a cup. The two finished their milk tea under the oak tree. Schiller picked up the gardening shovel and said, "The situation of the gardener is not optimistic. It seems that we can only do these jobs ourselves. Let's clean up the broken awning this morning, rinse the garden with a hose later, and dig out the dead plants tomorrow."

Merkel went back to change shoes. Schiller supported his hand on the gardening shovel, looked at the messy garden, and sighed. But after a while, he picked up the shovel and began to dig out the awning bracket inserted into the soil.

After a while, Merkel came over again. Schiller took a look at the leather shoes on his feet and said, "What's wrong? Where are the rain boots you wore last night?"

Merkel shook his head and said to Schiller, "Sir, there is a call. It seems to be from Mr. Wayne..."

Schiller frowned. Merkel took the shovel in his hand. When Schiller walked to the door, he stomped on the carpet to shake off the dirt, walked through the front hall, came to the hall, and picked up the telephone receiver from the table next to him.

"Hello? What's wrong? You've only been away for a few hours, why... What did you say? The building in the East District collapsed, so you didn't go to the disaster relief?"

"Really? That's a good thing. The children's active participation in disaster relief work can exercise their abilities, right?"

"Yes, I know, but even a small thing like delivering food can get many people involved. Cobert did a good job this time... What did you say? Someone was injured?"

"How could the children be injured? Aren't they delivering things?... A mental patient suddenly went crazy? Who was injured? Don't tell me it was... Okay, I know, I'll go there right away."

Schiller put down the phone, He walked quickly towards the stairs. Merkel, who had just come in, caught up with him and asked, "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

"Please prepare my coat. I'm going to the first phase of the renovation project, which is Building 1 of the demonstration area. One of my students was injured. He was attacked by a mental patient who suddenly went crazy. I have to go and see what happened."

"Oh, by the way, call Brand and ask him to go there too. Maybe he needs help with pathological analysis."

Merkel nodded and immediately went to find a coat. Schiller went upstairs, changed out of the work clothes he was going to work with, put on a formal suit and tie again, and took the windbreaker from Merkel while going downstairs.

"Dr. Brand said that he is in the hospital now. Mr. Wayne invited him to participate in the consultation. The driver has arrived at the door and put the umbrella on the back seat for you..." J.

Schiller nodded and walked out of the door quickly. After getting in the car, he frowned with the umbrella in his hand and looked out the window.

Today is a rare good day in Gotham, but the sun is not bright, just a little brighter than usual. The sky is not blue, still foggy gray, but the clouds are not low, not giving people the oppressive and dark feeling as before.

The difference is that the air is filled with mist, and the humidity is higher than before. Taking a breath, the nose is cold to the lungs.

On the street, puddles are connected one after another. On the surface of most puddles, golden leaves blown down last night are floating. Because of the temperature rise, some water surfaces are covered with fine white mist, just like a bowl of hot soup.

Occasionally, bicycle bells rang on the opposite street. In some unrenovated neighborhoods, groups of newspaper boys whizzed by. Schiller looked at the newspapers in their hands and asked, "Mr. Driver, do you have a newspaper? Is there any big news today?"

"The driver was very old and a genuine local. He gently pulled the gloves on his hands and said: The K4 newspaper is in the door drawer on your left, but you'd better not pick it up. The weather is relatively humid and the ink is not dry yet, so it may get on your hands."

Schiller stopped stretching his hand, and he heard the driver continue: "Today's news, of course, is about the collapse of the building on Poyulou Street..."

"Mr. like you, you may not have been to such a street. The houses there are different from your manor. They are not built in one go. They are all temporarily built after people live in them."

"This kind of house is not very reliable. The strong typhoon last night caused the building at the edge to collapse. It was originally the only building to collapse, but the houses there were too dense and not very stable, so six houses collapsed in succession..."

"What are the casualties?" Schiller asked with a frown.

"The buildings there are not very tall, unlike the city center, which is often 30 or 40 stories high. The six collapsed buildings are only six stories high, and the materials are not very solid, so no one was killed, but a few were seriously injured and were taken away by the ambulance sent by the Wayne Group."

"I heard that the gangs participated in the disaster relief, and the children in the transformation demonstration area also went?" Schiller asked.

"Of course the gangs have to participate in disaster relief." The driver reached out and honked the horn, signaling the car in front to hurry up. He turned the steering wheel and said, "In the past, when such an accident happened, it was the gangs who came to the rescue. This time, the rich man Wayne also got involved, and the efficiency was much higher."

"As for the group of kids, they did a good job, but I heard that there seemed to be some conflicts there. One of the injured people who was hit went crazy and started attacking those who rescued him."

"After a day's work, The hungry gangsters were also very angry, and the two sides had a conflict. As for the children..." The driver shook his head and said, "They shouldn't get involved. These little bastards are best at running away."

"In a gang fight with real guns and bullets, they all ran very fast. This time, only fists were used. There is no reason why they can't escape."

Schiller nodded, but his frown did not relax. If Jason was injured in the fight as Bruce said, the situation must be much more serious than what the driver said.

First of all, Jason is the leader of the children. Once a fight breaks out, the children under him will protect him because he is the leader and their brain. This is their instinct to protect the interests of the group. Jason is not so easy to be attacked. J.

In addition, Jason is also quite good at fighting. Although he is definitely not as good as the genius Batman and Dick who is naturally good at sports, he is also a good player among ordinary children. He should not be the first to be beaten and injured.

Even if he couldn't win, Jason wasn't the kind of person who would be stubborn and would not run away. Just as the driver said, these kids in Gotham were able to survive and were first-rate in their ability to escape.

After all, when the gangs were fighting, they wouldn't specifically notify them. Once the gunshots rang out, these kids would disappear in a flash. This was their ability to survive in Gotham.

Thinking of this, Schiller got out of the car and made a phone call outside the door of Building 1. After a while, Cobblepot came down. As soon as they met, Schiller noticed that his face didn't look good, so he asked, "What happened? You look a little too serious..."

Cobblepot shook his head and said nothing. He just led Schiller to the elevator and came to the 15th floor where Jason lived.

Pushing the door open, Schiller saw that several children were surrounding Jason lying on the bed. Cobblepot waved his hand, and they walked out reluctantly. In the narrow room, Schiller walked to the head of the bed and looked at Jason, and found that his face looked even worse.

Schiller looked around, and Cobert immediately understood what he meant, walked out the door, and after a while, he brought back a chair. Schiller sat at the head of the bed and reached out to touch Jason's forehead.

"He has a fever. Don't you have antipyretics?" Schiller asked.

"Yes. And he was given it two hours ago. It is the maximum dose he can take at this weight." Cobert said with some worry. He could see that Schiller valued Jason very much.

Not only Schiller, but Cobert himself also valued Jason very much, thinking that he would be a capable helper in leading the new order) But now, Jason's situation is not optimistic. Cobert, who also grew up in the East District, understands that once even the medicine is useless, the situation has reached a very critical point.

Schiller frowned deeply and said, "I heard that he was injured. Where is the injury?"

Cobert walked up and took one of Jason's arms out of the quilt. Schiller rolled up his sleeves and saw three deep wounds on his forearm, which looked like scratches by nails.

At this moment, Tire pushed the door open and came in. He said, "How is Jason? Is he feeling better?... Oh, you are here, Boss Cobert. Oh my god, and Professor Schiller, you are finally here..."

Tire showed a guilty expression and said, "Please save Jason. This is all my fault. Jason was injured just to protect me!"

Schiller did not mean to blame him. Instead, he turned his head and looked at him and said, "What is going on? Didn't you just go to deliver some food? Why did you fight with others?"

Tire stamped his feet in frustration and said, "It's not our fault, it's all the fault of those lunatics... Maybe we can't blame them either, if we have to blame someone, blame the typhoon."

"The typhoon last night was the biggest storm Gotham has ever seen in more than a decade. Six houses collapsed on the broken fish basket street where I live, injuring many people, and the gang went to rescue them."

"I know all these things, tell me what happened next."

Perhaps it was Schiller's calm tone that soothed the somewhat anxious tire. He took a deep breath, sorted out his thoughts, and then began to narrate:

"Last night, when Boss Cobblepot told us that he was going to deliver food, Jason proposed to cook for himself and we all agreed with this proposal, so all the children hurriedly began to prepare..." J.