Chapter 1812: Summer in Fool Village (Twenty-Six)

Chapter 1786: Summer in Fool Village (Twenty-six)

Harley screamed and rushed into the bushes, followed by Barry. Butler Merkel stood outside the bushes helplessly, watching the two children running and jumping on the muddy and wet ground, stepping on their feet without wading shoes and covered in mud.

"The meal will be ready soon. I'll get you a pair of new shoes. Stand still." Merkel turned to get the shoes. Harley made a face at him from behind. Barry poked Harley with his elbow and said, "Do you think Professor Schiller is a little strange?"

"First of all, that's not Professor Schiller." Harley stretched out a finger and said to Barry's puzzled eyes, "That's his other personality. We usually call him pathological."

Barry turned to look at Schiller who was deboning the meat, and lowered his voice and said, "It's amazing that so many different personalities can live in one person's body, but every Schiller is good, what do you think?"

Harley grinned and said, "This one is particularly good."

Pamela didn't wear a skirt today. Instead, she wore overalls and wading shoes, and walked out of the wreckage of the garden with one foot deep and one foot shallow.

It rained again last night. The dead plant roots were pressed into the soil by the heavy rain. If you are not careful, you will trip. Even though Pamela has the ability to control plants, she walked carefully. After all, the plants in Gotham are the green of all things. They have to be slapped before they can leave.

The moment Pamela stepped on the stone road, she breathed a sigh of relief, and then strode towards Schiller. However, she did not expect that there was water under a loose floor tile. Pamela stepped on the front of the brick and the water on the side splashed her.

Schiller walked out of the flower pavilion and handed her a towel. Pamela took the towel and wiped the water on her arms and neck. She sighed softly. She looked up at Schiller from the gap between her eyelashes, but she did not mean anything else, but was slightly hesitant.

"Your garden is in a bad state." Pamela put one foot on the bricks at the edge and said, "I just went to the deep end to take a look. The situation is much more difficult than here, and... I saw it."

"What?" Schiller seemed to have not heard clearly, and leaned forward by taking back the towel, making a more obvious listening posture.

"The things you buried under the tree."

Schiller's expression was unpredictable, and Pamela could not see any emotion from it. She rubbed her wrist a little unnaturally and said, "The heavy rain washed away the surface soil, and I saw some bones."

Schiller stood inside the flower pavilion and stretched out his hand to open the door. Pamela hugged her arms and crawled in through the door, then relaxed her shoulders and let out a sigh. She took a look at the meat Schiller was handling and said, "I don't have much experience in anatomy, but I can recognize that it is a rib. There are very few animals in nature whose ribs are so fragile."

Pamela looked up and said, "I don't have much experience in anatomy, but I can recognize that it is a rib. There are very few animals in nature whose ribs are so fragile."

Pamela looked up and said, "I don't have much experience in anatomy, but I can recognize that it is a rib. There are very few animals in nature whose ribs are so fragile." Staring straight at Schiller, she said, "That's not a moose, is it?"

"You don't seem surprised." Schiller continued to carefully scrape the bones with a knife, and said, "That's the garbage my housekeeper took care of for me. Thank you for your reminder. Next time I will ask him to bury them deeper."

"What is that?" Pamela leaned forward, stared at Schiller's face carefully, not missing a single detail, pressed her hands hard on the table and said, "You told me it was venison, but it's not. What did you give us to eat?"

"What do you think it is?" Schiller looked at her with a smile and asked.

"I don't know." Pamela's throat moved, and she looked away and said with some doubt: "I just feel a special power. It can't be Gotham..."

"You will have an answer soon, Miss. Let's talk about my garden now. What do you think of the picnic area?"

Pamela was confused until Harley, who had changed into wading boots, rushed in from the door in a hurry. She bypassed Pamela and ran behind Schiller.

Schiller turned to look at her and said, "What are you doing, Miss Harley?"

"Merkel was going to catch us for dinner, and I pretended to run away. I really wanted to see his expression when he thought he would never catch me and found out that I had come back a long time ago."

Schiller raised his chin towards the shelf under the table, and Harley spread her hands and let out a disappointed "Oh".

She crawled under the shelf, took out a large piece of thawed meat, put it on the table with a "bang", moved a low stool from the side and stepped on it, and took out a long knife from somewhere and stabbed it in the middle of the meat.

Pamela instinctively stiffened for a moment, looking at the tacit actions of the two people in front of her, one big and one small, and suddenly had a bad premonition.

Schiller turned to look at Harley while removing the bones and said, "Where did you and Merkel throw the garbage last night?"

Harley looked up at Schiller, blinked in confusion, and pointed behind with the hand that was not holding the knife and said, "In the garden, what's wrong?"

"Remember to bury it deeper next time." Schiller glanced at Pamela and said, "Gotham will have frequent heavy rains recently, and our garden needs to be repaired so as not to affect the rooting of the plants."

Harry nodded nonchalantly. Pamela opened her mouth to say something, but Schiller looked at her and asked, "Have you dealt with anyone in the magic world recently?"

"I've been to the other world a few times, invited by Jim, the master of the dark night." Pamela wiped the dirt off her shoes with a rag and said, "They held a few dances, but I don't like social occasions like that, and I haven't been there for a long time."

Schiller put the shaved leg bone aside, and Pamela couldn't help but follow his movements with her eyes. She heard Schiller ask : "Did you know that the Earth Magic Defense Network is almost complete?"

"As expected." Pamela shrugged and said, "I can imagine the various predicaments that the magic world has suffered in the past, but the most difficult one is just spinelessness. The wizard named Strange has no similar concerns, sufficient energy, and in place technology, so what are you waiting for?"

"You have a pair of eyes sharper than a hawk." Schiller said, Pamela was not happy about it, she still stared at the meat on Schiller's chopping board without blinking.

"Do you read Dante, Miss?"

"Not obsessed enough to set up a club or something." Pamela said with a little sarcasm, obviously she was hinting that Schiller's tone sounded like a fanatical fan of Dante.

"Dante left hell on the back of Satan. His ultimate salvation lies in his courage to step on the devil and use it as a step to ascend. Some people are just the opposite."

"No matter how strong the armor used to protect humans is, it still needs the support of the human spine. If you take off the armor, everything will be over."

Pamela heard a sense of danger in Schiller's calm tone. She instinctively shrank her neck and found that she met Schiller's eyes when she raised her eyes.

A storm instantly set off in Pamela's mind. The desire to survive made her become the god of language analysis again. She swallowed her saliva and said, "Whatever you just said, it must make sense. I swear I won't say anything."

"And..." Pamela even looked at Schiller cautiously and said, "You will have a beautiful garden, professor."

Schiller looked unpredictable.

"Do you mind accompanying me to visit someone tonight?" Schiller asked very gently.

"Who to visit?"

"You'll know soon."

This is the answer again. Pamela frowned tightly and cursed in her heart. How soon is soon? Is it as soon as I was stewed in the pot?

Staying here is a stupid decision, but leaving is even more stupid. Pamela supported herself on the chair with both hands. Her eyes fell on the leg meat that Schiller was holding, and she recalled the taste of the venison risotto yesterday.

Deliciousness and power can be achieved at the same time. Pamela licked her lips unconsciously. She thought, where should I go to visit a deer?

In the car, Constantine stuck his head out of the window, looked forward, sighed, and swallowed the dirty words he was about to curse. He had to learn to be a civilized person. He still had to run a bookstore.

"There's a traffic jam again. I'm afraid we have to take a detour."

Zatanna also leaned out to take a look, shook her head and said, "Normally this road is not congested. Maybe they are building a subway."

Azazel, who was sitting in the back seat, frowned, but he said nothing. He let Constantine turn the steering wheel and the car turned around and drove in another direction.

After changing the road, there were fewer and fewer cars around. Constantine felt something was wrong. He slowed down the car. When he looked at the rearview mirror, he found that Azazel, who was sitting in the back seat, had disappeared without a trace.

"It seems your enemies are here."

Constantine turned his head following Azazel's low voice and saw a goat with yellow eyes in the reflection of the car window. Azazel said, "To avoid misunderstanding, I should not appear."

"If you want to see my joke, just say it." Constantine snorted coldly and said, "Devils and angels are bound by ancient rules. Without a contract, none of you dare to attack me."

Azazel's low and evil laughter echoed in the car. The moment Constantine's dangerous intuition came, Zatanna screamed.

"Boom!"

A violent explosion rose from the highway.

The sunset in midsummer always comes and goes quickly. The orange, purple, blue and light pink at the end of the sky are like deep sea undercurrents sinking below the horizon. This is a clear night with a halo of the moon.

The sky is a deep blue that cannot be deeper. The stars are hidden behind the silky mist. Next to the Victorian-style wall lamp at the door of the manor, Schiller stroked the edge of the black leather gloves with his fingers.

Pamela took the pair of gloves that Schiller handed over. She stroked the leather's strange and warm texture and asked, "What kind of leather is this made of?"

"Lambskin."

"Like goat skin."

"Maybe."

Pamela put on the gloves silently. She had a premonition of what she was going to do, but she didn't care. What surprised her even more was that the imagined stuffiness did not come. The black gloves seemed to have become a part of her skin.

"Great." Pamela looked at her hands and said, "Can I expect you to introduce a goat to me?"

"Soon, miss."

Schiller watched Merkel's car slowly stop at the door. He opened the passenger door and sat in, while Pamela sat in the back seat. The car started with a series of splashes and then disappeared into the night.

"Where are we going?"

"To a party."

"No invitations?"

"Destruction usually does not require invitations."

"Destruction?"

"We destroy one and give them another."