Chapter 1813: Summer in Fool Village (Twenty-Seven)

Chapter 1787 Summer in Fool Village (Twenty-Seven)

Schiller's car stopped on a brightly lit street, but he did not drive into the designated parking space of a certain building. Instead, he circled to the back alley and stopped in the dark. Then the two people who got out of the car also walked into the darkness.

Schiller and Pamela stood at the corner of the street. It was not hidden, but usually there would be no irrelevant people coming and going on such a street where high-end clubs gathered. There were blind spots everywhere that could not be seen from the windows. Schiller and Pamela were in one of them.

"Aren't we going in?" Pamela asked.

Schiller shook his head and said, "From what you said during the day, maybe you are not obsessed enough to form a hunting club."

"This is ridiculous." Pamela raised her voice and said, "I haven't really murdered anyone, at least not yet."

"A good girl who abides by the law."

Pamela didn't know how to respond. She took a step forward and poked her head out from behind Schiller. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back slightly.

"The first rule of hunting is patience." Schiller's voice seemed to sound in Pamela's chest.

Pamela followed Schiller's gaze to a building opposite. It was a mansion on the Gotham River. Just like all the buildings on this street, it was magnificent, brightly lit, and faint music came out. The dance was at its climax.

Should we break in? Pamela wanted to ask this, but she thought of the key points Schiller had mentioned before, and finally remained silent. Schiller turned around and gave her an approving look.

"Do you know Oswald Cobblepot?" Schiller stood up straight, stopped looking at that place, and turned back to look at Pamela and asked.

"I've heard of him, a sophomore student, who is particularly talented in running a business. I went to the Iceberg Restaurant with my classmates to eat there. To be honest, it was quite novel."

Pamela didn't know why she always gave long answers when Schiller asked questions. This was not like her at all. This was the attitude that only ordinary people with normal emotions and excited spirits would have.

Then she realized that she might be unconsciously wrapped in an environment where she could feel danger at any time. The source of danger was the man next to her, so her spirit was constantly stimulated and her excitement level rose sharply.

"Yes, these comments are all correct. I have heard a little about them. Then you should also know his position in the gang?"

"The favorite of the Godfather."

"That's right, Miss. A few days ago, he consulted me about a bizarre serial murder case. You should have heard of similar symptoms, toxic edema."

Pamela nodded and said, "Of course, Professor Victor told me about this. Have you found the murderer?"

"Not yet, but only detectives will investigate the murderer."

Pamela raised her eyebrows: "Aren't you a detective?"

"The detective will find the murderer, and the murderer will choose to frame another murderer."

"You did it?" Pamela said in surprise, but she was not surprised at all.

Schiller shook his head and said, "No, but the murderer who has not yet done it will choose to create a murderer."

"Bang!"

A loud noise startled Pamela. She complained in her heart that this is the disadvantage of mental excitement. The sensitivity of perception will increase exponentially, so it is easy to be startled.

Pamela leaned out and saw at the end of the street that the door of the mansion that Schiller was concerned about was kicked open, and the gang members filed in, all armed with real guns and bullets.

A security defense vehicle finally stopped in front of the gate. Cobert, who was not strong, was very conspicuous among the tough gang members. He walked in on the carpet at the door of the mansion, and his back disappeared in the dazzling light of the ballroom.

Schiller moved quickly. He walked quickly along the shadow of the street to the building. Pamela hurriedly followed him, but found that she could hardly keep up with his speed.

Schiller spoke as fast as Pamela. He said, "I told Cobblepot an obvious fact. I am powerless to investigate the truth of this case."

"How could he believe it?"

"Normally he wouldn't believe it, but what I mean is that this situation is not normal. The famous chemist Jonathan Klein gave me a conclusion that the toxins in the deceased's body are not a product of technology, so he can't do a specific analysis."

Pamela said with a flash of inspiration, "...magic?"

"Cobblepot would naturally think so, because if I told him that the murderer could not be found through detective means, it means that the murderer came and went without a trace and would not leave any traces, so there would be no investigation."

"But there is no other evidence that it was done by a magician."

"He doesn't need other evidence." Schiller turned quickly at the back corner of the building and walked towards the side door that had been opened long ago. He said, "The gangs are not detectives. They usually catch the murderer first and then ask for clues."

"Barbaric but useful."

"And very easy to use."

Schiller walked into the dark corridor without hesitation. Pamela snapped her fingers and a green flame ignited in her hand, but Schiller shook his head and said, "If you have night vision, you can use it, but don't make any light."

"Don't you want to be discovered by the gangsters?"

"Shockingly sharp." Schiller stood at the fork in the kitchen's supply channel, touched the wall with his hand and said, "Then use your sharpness to guess where the deer we are going to visit will hide in the forest?"

Pamela raised her face in the dark, her eyes flickering, but she did not use her special ability. She just focused on listening to the subtle sound of the heart beating faster than ever when the blood was pumping out. There is no doubt that a deer's heart rate is also flustered.

"Warehouse, in the low-temperature frozen goods warehouse."

Schiller walked in that direction without hesitation. Pamela couldn't help but say, "I have dealt with that group of magicians. They are not completely ignorant of the world of ordinary people. At least they know that the door of the cold storage is the strongest, and they are not afraid of cold like ordinary people. They can stop the gangsters for a while, and they have a way to get out of it with magic."

"Excellent reasoning."

"Are we going to catch the smartest deer?" Pamela licked her lips again. She rubbed the sweat on her palm with her thumb and felt her heart rate gradually stabilized.

"Do you feel it?" Schiller's smile was still obvious in the darkness: "This will be something that will really make you feel calm."

"You shouldn't instigate me." Pamela's voice was a little hoarse: "It will be more dangerous than you think."

"I'm just providing you with a way to recover after social failure, but don't really do it, otherwise you will be so relaxed that you will completely forget how to socialize, you will hide back in the forest, and finally you will become that deer."

Pamela understood what Schiller meant. Isn't this the tragedy of the magicians in the magic world?

They separate themselves from the vast majority of ordinary people, thinking that they are different from the world and have great talents. They disdain to socialize with ordinary people, have almost no social relationships, hide alone in the forest called the magic world, and degenerate themselves into animals with only strong muscles.

So the gangs have no scruples when killing them, because there is no noteworthy relationship behind these wizards. What about the dark night master Jim? Will he slaughter all mankind for revenge for these wizards? Who dares to do this?

"Society is for ordinary people. You either integrate into it or stay away from it." Schiller's deep voice echoed in the corridor: "If you want to enjoy the prosperity of civilized society, you must communicate according to the rules of civilized society. This is the price you must pay."

"So you chose psychology?"

"In the case where I could have killed them, yes."

Schiller and Pamela stopped in front of the door of the cold storage. Schiller looked down at the footprints with water stains at the door. Pamela's reasoning was accurate. The other party had obviously just entered not long ago, and the operating keyboard of the internal cold storage door had obviously caused him a little trouble. The door was just closed a few seconds ago.

"Take me in."

The next second, a green light flashed, and the emerald green vines disappeared. Schiller saw a tall and thin figure at the moment the light disappeared, but that was not the person he should have seen here.

"Stephen Strange."

The moment Strange looked back and saw the pair of desolate gray eyes, he swallowed the name he was about to blurt out, and his expression became colder.

When he turned around, Pamela discovered that Strange was holding a person in his arms, or rather, that was the deer they were looking for. Three seconds ago, the surging heart had just completed its mission.

Strange loosened his hand, a thin chain fell from his fingertips, and the body slid to the ground with a muffled "bang". The cloak slipped from his forehead. Pamela looked at the familiar face and shouted: "Master Andrew!"

"A fool." Strange lowered his eyes and looked at the body at his feet and said: "He thought I couldn't use magic in this world, so the threat was powerless. He made a deal with a stupid goat and left a backdoor for him in the Earth's magic defense network."

"Would you believe me if I said he was not like this before?"

"Of course, he stood up in the war that happened here, but I'm afraid it's hard to offset his merits and demerits. Do you want to defend him?"

"I need his body."

Strange frowned, and the next second the world spun around. An unimaginable force pushed against his chest and threw him to the ground. With a "bang", Strange let out a painful groan.

Schiller grabbed him by the neck and threw him out like a light doll, and he clearly felt that he had knocked over a series of steel food shelves when he flew out.

Pamela finally understood what Schiller meant by "having some experience fighting humanoid creatures".

Schiller stood up again in front of Master Andrew. He looked outside the cold storage door. The riot caused by the gang was getting closer and closer to here. They didn't have much time.

Strange, who was lying on the ground with his head down, panted painfully and thrashed twice. When he finally turned over and lay on his side, he stretched out a trembling hand, and a whip made of dark energy flew out of his hand in an instant, and a series of sparks were raised along the smooth metal ground.

"Snap!"

The emerald green shield blocked the attack, but not in front of Schiller, but in front of Master Andrew's body.

Schiller turned his head to look at Strange, whose mouth was gushing with blood. Schiller walked towards him and reached out to press on one side of his shoulder to open his breathing passage.

Strange lay flat on the ground, and the ceiling in his vision became blurred. He felt that he might have been carried up by Schiller, and then he lost consciousness.

When he woke up again, he saw a strange ceiling in front of him, and Schiller was standing in front of his bed, and he couldn't see his face clearly against the light.

"I don't think you have to make things difficult for me, sir." Schiller's tone was as light as chanting.

Strange endured the pain in his chest and chuckled, saying, "I don't like you, is that okay?"

"Can you give me a reason?" Schiller sat down on the bed, his arms on his legs, turned his head and looked at Strange and asked, there was no anger in his tone, only a slight curiosity.

Strange gently closed his eyes and said in a dry voice, "You are not a human, you are just a monster in human skin, you should get out of this body and return him to Schiller."

"Very legitimate, Mr. Strange."

Strange opened his eyes and looked at Schiller who stood up again in disbelief.

Did he just hear joy from the tone of this monster? Why didn't he feel angry?

"Miss Pamela will come up to treat your injuries soon, but as an apology, I must invite you to stay for the banquet tomorrow night, you will like it."

"I am not interested in the carnival of wild beasts who eat raw meat and drink blood." Strange closed his eyes.

"That just happens, the theme of this party is 'people'". Schiller looked down at Strange and said, "I hope you will come, Your Excellency the Sorcerer Supreme."

Music