Chapter 2261: Late Autumn in Golden City (Twenty-Five)

The atmosphere in the room was still very quiet.

Pathological thought that Pamela's situation was not within his professional scope, so Pamela soon found that the professor had returned, but he did not sit back in his seat, but stood in front of the window and thought quietly.

Pamela, who had just had an emotional fluctuation, would not calm down so quickly. She had resisted refuting before, but was afraid of the power of the mysterious Schiller. She knew the professor better and understood that in most cases, he was happy to explain to his students.

Pamela called Schiller twice, but Schiller did not hear her. She could not help but sit up straight on the bed. Schiller noticed her movement and looked back at her.

"Sorry, I was thinking, so I was a little distracted. Do you feel better, Miss Pamela?"

"I'm much better. I just want to know..." Pamela paused, her nose shrank slightly, and after a moment of hesitation, she said: "Do you think I'm different from you?"

"It seems that you see more of the common points between us." Schiller said carefully, "That's why you appeared in my manor garden when you were in trouble."

"I..." Pamela's Adam's apple trembled slightly. She took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to say: "I saw you, it should be another you. I saw how you dealt with the devil, I mean the moose."

"How does that make you feel?"

Schiller sat in the opposite corner of the room, farther away from Pamela, but this overall situation made him look more like a hunter. He was obviously hiding in the shadows and observing something.

"I feel a little excited." Pamela seemed very honest. She said, "Watching you cut humanoid creatures and make them howl and bleed in pain makes me feel my blood boiling."

Schiller frowned even more.

He sensed something was wrong. The feelings described by Pamela were in conflict with Schiller's feelings about her.

Pamela is not a born lunatic.

This is Schiller's conclusion. Pamela Isley is about as far away from a serial killer as Gotham is from Metropolis.

Her psychology cannot be said to be healthy, and her mental state is not stable, but not everyone with psychological problems or bad mental state is born lunatic. Lunatics and ordinary people are almost two different creatures.

From Pamela's experience, it is true. She suffered misfortune in her childhood and may have killed or injured people. As she grew up, she became more and more serious. She could even calmly frame others after killing people. This is completely consistent with the experience of a cold, tyrannical, manipulative pervert.

But the most unreasonable thing Schiller could feel was that Pamela actually didn't remember the process of killing people.

Schiller said carefully.

"I'm afraid these natural serial killers have different views on killing their own kind than you do."

"What's the difference?"

"Why do you think you forgot the process?"

Pamela frowned slightly, and she tried her best to think in the direction of psychology and answered: "I remember that it was mentioned in class that when people are subjected to major mental stimulation, they will instinctively forget. This is the self-protection mechanism of the brain."

"This is the biggest difference. Ordinary people will regard the murder of two lives as a major stimulation, but crazy people will not. They have almost no empathy and will not realize how terrible death is. Killing is like picking two leaves at random. How can they forget because of mental stimulation?"

Pamela was speechless.

"I know you have a vision for this." Schiller said bluntly: "Some of the actions of the other me may allow you to see the beauty hidden behind the violent behavior. Gotham people have always been good at appreciating this beauty and are very happy to follow it."

"But these lunatics are called natural perverts because they have many innate defects. Killer enthusiasts call them advantages, indifference, lack of education, lack of empathy and moral sense."

"This is not a personality trait that they have been stimulated or experienced something. All of this comes with their birth and is almost difficult to shape later. If you are not, you will never be. It may be very similar, but there must be differences."

"So I am not?" Pamela Staring at Schiller with some doubts, she said, "But I think I have these traits, too."

"That's two different things, Miss." Schiller paused to think for a moment, then explained, "What's the matter with your abnormal indifference? We'll talk about it later. From my feeling, you are not this kind of lunatic."

"If you still don't believe it, I will prove it to you by asking you a series of questions."

Pamela was at ease, with her hands on her back, looking a little nervous. She coughed twice and said, "Ask."

"When you see someone walking by in class, do you think, 'I'm going to stab him in the heart with a dagger, then cut off his head with a chainsaw and place it on a stump'?"

"Who did I see?"

"You see, this is the difference." Schiller said, "Normal people will first pay attention to who the other person is. They want to know if they have a reason to kill him, but for psychopaths, this idea does not need any reason, they just suddenly want to do it."

"So the murders committed by psychopaths are often difficult to solve. They kill randomly and leave after they are done. They have no grudges or hatred with the target, no social interactions, and even no rules. All sociological connections will not point to them, and they can often escape legal sanctions several times."

Pamela nodded.

"And do you often feel dizzy and nauseous, feel the fragmentation and incoherence of time and space, and something is wrong, and you have to correct it?"

Pamela shook her head again.

"Distorted senses are also a sign of natural killers. They will have sudden ideas, completely destroy their previous cognition of certain things, and create a new one through fantasy. If the reality does not conform to their new creation, they will feel dizzy and painful, and will not hesitate to use violence to correct the reality they think is disordered."

"This is often the reason why they kill people. They think that some people are not what others see. Here they are not referring to victims, but hypocrites or other hypocrites in the sociological sense."

"And the only possibility is that in the eyes of lunatics, this person has grown four arms, so two must be cut off, or this person originally has no arms, and needs to be connected to him by other people."

"So you often see this kind of serial killers create amazing works of art, but that is not their creative conception. There is no rational thinking process. They just see this person appearing there like this, so they turn him into that."

"Unimaginable." Pamela began to feel a little cold on her back.

Then she looked at Schiller, the desire to survive roared in her mind, asking her not to ask that question recklessly, but the more intense curiosity pushed her forward.

"You too?"

At the moment when Schiller's eyes changed, Pamela shrank to the corner of the bed as quickly as possible, but her eyes were not completely scattered before they refocused.

Schiller said helplessly: "Now we are facing a very professional problem. At this time, it is unwise to tease a madman. I think this is the last chance."

Pamela swallowed violently and nodded vigorously, but still unrepentantly, looking at Schiller with curious eyes.

"I don't show this aspect too much." Schiller shook his head and said, "If you really want to find a typical example, look for Batman. Of course, I'm not talking about the tourist attraction, but the real Batman."

"What he does is actually correcting the world. Sometimes he is more enthusiastic and paranoid than the crazy people. This is one of the alienated manifestations of sensory distortion."

"Dress yourself up as a bat?"

"Transvestism is another characteristic." Schiller tapped his hand on the handrail and said, "Because they have no empathy, they are too alienated from the world, and because of their distorted senses, they cannot feel the truth. They usually There is nothing to anchor my existence. "

"When you love me, feel me, and express your love and feelings, I can know myself through these, which is a cognitive anchor that a normal person should have."

"But lunatics can hardly feel these. Their connection with others is too weak, but their vision and senses become extremely uncertain due to madness, so they often lose their existence."

"For this reason, they have to find a new anchor for themselves. I am what I pretend to be."

"So you say you are an ordinary person?"

Schiller stood up.

Countless vines spread out from under the bed and instantly covered the floor and walls of the bedroom. The storm formed by the vines grabbed Schiller like a giant hand, but it was not an attack. Pamela just wanted to protect herself.

Schiller did not resist unexpectedly, but he did not use his special ability to escape. He just opened an umbrella to block the vines and stood quietly looking at Pamela.

"I have to introduce you to a new type of people." Schiller's voice sank.

"Perverted fan." Schiller turned his head, but still not looking at Pamela. He said, "People who are crazy about mental illness will always be attracted by the crazy characteristics of the madman until they are dragged into a vortex that they cannot escape."

"When you saw me preparing the dishes, I knew you were this kind of person, Miss Ashley."

Schiller sat back on the sofa. He looked back at the tip of the vine that emerged from the back of the chair and flicked the curled part with his fingers. As a result, that part grew further and directly wrapped around Schiller's wrist.

"I'm kindly reminding you, Miss, that I am not completely without sensory confusion." Schiller used his other hand to straighten the hem of his suit and said, "You should be glad that you didn't turn your back to me just now, otherwise I would have to think of a new name for lighter-colored meat."

The vine was retracted in a whoosh.

Pamela huddled in the corner of the bed, hugging her knees, staring at Schiller with wide eyes. Schiller exhaled slowly and said, "Because of your special attention to me, Miss Ashley, I have to express my honor in person."

"So..."

"That's not you."

"Huh?"

"Green of All Things, come out."