Chapter 1201 The Cry of the Lamb (Thirteen)

In the dimly lit corridor, only the sign at the door of the operating room emits a faint cold light. This is a special operating room in a special hospital, and the center of the door is inlaid with a frosted glass.

When the light from the room shines through the frosted glass and reflects on the floor of the corridor, it is like leaving a puddle of water on the floor, and looking inward along the glass, only some hazy images can be seen.

Through the glass, you can see the upper body of a naked man. He looks like he is lying on the operating table, with one arm hanging down. When the bright light shines on his smooth and tight back muscles, the atmosphere is very similar to the famous oil painting "The Death of Marat".

Blood drips down his arm, forming a small puddle on the ground. The smooth tile floor reflects his pale face. Sweat slides from the outside of his eyes, which are deeply sunken under the brow arch, all the way to his thin and bony jaw, and then drips to the ground.

The instrument made a slight humming sound. In the hazy and dim light, the doctor holding the scalpel and covered in blood gently took off his mask, put the knife in his hand on the tray next to him, turned around and looked at the instrument, and said:

"His physiological signs are close to the limit, and the operation can't continue."

"Dr. Fitzgibbon, I hope you understand that he is not an ordinary person and will not die in this operation, and you must complete Ms. Waller's instructions. This is your job." A female nurse standing aside, whose figure is obviously different from other nurses, said.

The doctor called Dr. Fitzgibbon turned his head to look at her and said seriously: "Although I am known as the death doctor, I am not a doctor who is good at killing patients.

"My surgery has a high success rate, so you'd better pay attention to my opinion. The operation has reached this point, and the effect you require can be achieved. Then what's the point of continuing? "

The overly strong nurse standing next to him glanced down at the man lying on the operating table.

On his naked upper body, there was a very long and deep wound from the back of his head to the coccyx, and almost the entire vertebrae of his spine were exposed.

At this time, the exposed bone surface had an abnormal reflection. Dr. Fitzgibbon glanced at the nurse's face, as if he remembered something, and he tutted his lips a little, muttered something in a low voice, and tried to put away his dissatisfied expression.

He picked up another syringe from the metal tray next to him, pulled the edge of his gloves with his other hand, shook his head helplessly and said:

"Well, I know that Ms. Waller and Professor Schiller have some personal grudges. She hopes that the result of the operation will be as she wishes, but the process should not be so smooth. In this case, then double the dose. "

After saying that, he took the syringe like a knife and inserted the sharp needle into the gap of Schiller's exposed spine.

Instantly, Schiller trembled violently as if he had been electrocuted. The silver metallic light spread along the surface of the bone. As Schiller twitched uncontrollably, more blood spurted out.

The strong nurse standing by the door stepped forward, pressed Schiller's neck with her gloved hands, and pressed him firmly on the operating table, making him unable to struggle.

Until the silver light completely penetrated into the bones, Schiller exhaled like a dying fish and lay there without moving.

And his whole body was like a fish that had just been pulled out of the water. Sweat soaked his black hair and mixed with blood, dripping from his arms.

Dr. Fitzgibbon brought three more syringes, just like before, and divided them into Don't pierce the cervical spine, lumbar spine and coccyx. After multiple injections, Schiller's entire spine completely changed color. The dull color even spread along the spine to the ribs and shoulder blades.

Schiller was pale and lying on the operating table with a distracted look, but Dr. Fitzgibbon put down the needle in his hand and took two steps back. After taking a last look at Schiller, he turned and walked out of the operating room.

Amanda Waller was waiting outside the operating room. When she saw Dr. Fitzgibbon coming out, she raised her eyebrows, and her expression was self-evident. Dr. Fitzgibbon glanced at the translucent glass in the middle of the door and said:

"You should know that there is no scholar in the world who has studied nano implants more deeply than me. The micro-bombs you want to use are completely child's play for me. The nano-controller used on Professor Schiller is my life's masterpiece. "

Looking at Amanda's slightly relieved expression, Dr. Fitzgibbon coughed lightly and said, "Humans are vertebrates. No one can deny the importance of the spine to humans. The close connection and precise and ingenious cooperation between this skeletal system is God's masterpiece. When you hold a vertebra in your hand, it's like holding the scepter of life."

"Dr. Fitzgibbon, I'm not here to listen to your poetry." Amanda turned her head and looked at the gray-haired doctor and said, "I just want to know what effect the so-called human skeleton nanocontroller you embezzled more than half of the micro-bomb research funds can achieve. "

"No, no, no, this is not a skeletal controller!" Dr. Fitzgibbon shook his head gently and said, "This is more like a nerve controller. You should know what human nerves are? The reason why some paralyzed patients can't walk is not because of their bones, but because of their nerves."

"What kind of results will nerve damage have, and what kind of effects can the nanocontroller achieve." Dr. Fitzgibbon tried to explain his experimental results to Amanda in easy-to-understand words.

"You mean, if I want, this professor will be like a paralyzed patient in a car accident and will never be able to stand up again?" Amanda asked with interest.

"This is just the simplest and most superficial method of use. If you want, you can make him completely unable to move, or transmit unimaginable pain through human nerves, or even artificially create withdrawal reactions... The ability of this thing depends on how much pain you want the other person to suffer and your imagination." Dr. Fitzgibbon shrugged and said.

"I'm not a sadist." Amanda said, then she turned her head and looked through the blurry glass in the middle of the door at Schiller, who was still lying motionless on the operating table, and said, "Are you sure he was awake during the operation?"

"Of course, but I can only tell the truth. It's not that painful. Except for the process of cutting open the skin and muscles to find the spine, the pain may not even be as severe as the electric shock. The tremors and convulsions are all from nerve reflexes and do not actually transmit pain."

"Pain is not the greatest torture." Amanda sneered and said, "For this group of cruel and ruthless serial killers, the humiliation of being a fish on the chopping board and falling from a butcher to a lamb is the most painful for them."

After speaking, Amanda pushed open the door of the operating room. The other nurses in the operating room left, leaving only Amanda standing in front of the operating table and Schiller lying on the operating table with his eyes slightly closed.

The wound on Schiller's back had been sutured, but because the wound was too deep and the area was too large, the sutures used were very thick and the marks were very obvious. The dense stitches looked like a zipper installed on his back.

Schiller tilted his head, half of his face was pressed against the operating table, and the half that was exposed had no blood on his lips, and his eyes were still very distracted, but his eyelashes would occasionally tremble.

"Look at you, professor." Amanda looked down at Schiller with a sneer on her face, and said, "You didn't scream, you didn't shout, you didn't even say a word."

"Is it because you think that if you screamed, you would be no different from the lambs who screamed because of your abuse?"

Amanda pursed her lips, exhaled slightly, raised her head high, looked at the air in the air and said:

"You are a group of cruel, indifferent and ruthless killers. You think you are two different creatures from ordinary humans. You regard them as pigs and dogs, and you think you can slaughter or abuse them at will."

"Therefore, what I like to do most is to smash your arrogance and let you know that you are no different from the meat on the chopping board. You are not the rulers and controllers, but also weak and helpless lambs. "

Schiller blinked his eyes lightly and said in a very hoarse voice: "Amanda, you know what? If you write this as a paper, I am even willing to give you an above-average score. "

"Because you wrote down your motivation, proposed a method, firmly implemented it, obtained certain data, and got a conclusion. The argumentation process is very complete... much better than some people. "

Amanda supported her hands on the edge of the operating table, leaned forward vertically downward, looked at Schiller's profile, and said:

"You are like this. The precious lives of ordinary people are nothing more than data in your eyes. Those articles composed of codes that appear in newspapers are behind one cruel blood case after another, and you only regard this as a joke for fun. "

"Amanda, you are also feeling pain, why?" Schiller asked intermittently.

"Because I once had hope for you, and so did my family." Amanda straightened her body, lowered her eyes, looked at Schiller's pale profile and said, "My parents thought my brother would have a good teacher, but he killed them. I thought I met a good professor, but you are a serial killer as cruel as them."

"You are determined and work hard, but there is only one problem." Schiller closed his eyes as if he was a little tired, and his hoarse voice was like a gust of wind blowing through a desolate canyon.

"You have no talent, no talent, just an ordinary person."

"Shouldn't I be glad for this?" Amanda's tone trembled fiercely: "Fortunately, I am an ordinary person with a normal mind, not a damn lunatic like you!"

"If you don't understand us, you will never be able to deal with us." Schiller's Adam's apple trembled, and his voice gradually weakened: "Soon you will find that you are facing a real genius... You will come back to me."

Amanda Waller stared at Schiller with cold eyes, but the readings and sounds of the instruments next to her told her that Schiller's vital signs were not optimistic. If she took some rough measures now, the professor would have no chance to make a contribution.

So, after staring at Schiller for dozens of seconds, Amanda turned and walked out of the operating room, but before she walked out of the corridor, she saw Davis walking quickly around the corner.

"Good news, Amanda." Davis raised his tone and looked at Amanda and said, "Wayne Group took the initiative to contact me. They showed a strong interest in our project. Bruce Wayne may be able to help us overcome the difficulties!"

"Who?!"

"Bruce Wayne!"