Capítulo 1781: Chapter 1203: The Lamb's Cry (15)_2
Upon saying this, the thick door opened to reveal a closed room where, again, a light bulb was hanging from the ceiling and a chair in the middle.
Shiller was still restrained in the chair, but because his wounds hadn't healed, he was not wearing a straitjacket, but was instead dressed in a standard prison uniform, his hands fixed to the armrests and his neck to the back of the chair.
As the door opened, Bruce raised his brow because visibly, Shiller's condition was very poor. The pallor from excessive blood loss and the weakness brought on by the recovery period made him look extremely weak.
Amanda noted Bruce's expression, and now she was certain that Bruce did not, in fact, plan to rescue Shiller, as Bruce showed neither extreme anger nor sadness and despair.
"We meet again, Professor," Bruce said calmly.
Shiller didn't look at him, and Bruce just walked up to Shiller, and then around to his back. Because the prison uniform covered everything, he could only see the traces of stitches on the back of Shiller's neck, but that was enough for Bruce to deduce that Shiller was severely injured.
"During the many days since we last met, I've been pondering over one question." Bruce slowly paced the room, continuing: "What exactly are you trying to make me understand with this series of actions?"
"Of course, there could be many answers, like you want me to realise not to fall easily into Stockholm syndrome, like you want me to believe that I'm forever entwined with morbidity and cannot escape, only to accept it."
"Or, for me to understand more deeply your past statement that only a criminal can fight a criminal. Or I could say, I must first admit to myself that I am a criminal, and to understand a criminal, in order to fight one."
After saying this, Bruce halted his steps right in front of Shiller. He looked at Shiller and shook his head: "But I don't think these are the final answers. Or rather, all these answers can be summed up into one – patriarchy."
"In this world, there are many kinds of power, but the vast majority of that is established on the basis of distrust and hatred. Because of distrust and hatred, power is needed to rule. Power serves the one who harbours hatred."
"But there is one power that's different, and that is the power of fatherhood."
"It is born out of love and serves the love of the father. Maybe the father's love is distorted, maybe the ways of exercising power is wrong, but it is still born out of the father's love for their child, or what they perceive as love."
"Until their children come of age, the family is a completely closed environment for them. They have no ability to leave. In this environment, they can easily develop Stockholm syndrome, lowering their standards to love their father when they cannot change him."
"In the process of exercising power, fathers' violence, arrogance, jealousy, and controlling tendencies give children a deeper understanding of human morbidity."
"Fathers use their power to force children to understand them. These children who understand them will one day fight them for it."
"In the process of growing up, they tilt the scales in their favour, so that when the father grows old and loses his power, they can completely take over, becoming the new executors of paternal power."
"At the beginning, I thought I should focus more on the aspect of power in fatherhood. But now, I realise that I should pay attention to the part of fatherhood that is different from other powers – love."
Bruce walked up to the door. He spoke a few words to Davis at the entrance, who glanced at Amanda. With a slight nod from Amanda, Davis left.
After a while, two security personnel brought in a table. Bruce took a metal tray from two doctors in white coats and placed it on the table.
In the metallic tray, there was a cup, a clear plastic tube and a needle. Bruce put on a pair of gloves. Only then did Shiller lift his head to look at him and asked with a voice that was rasp to the bottom, "What are you trying to do?"
"Draw blood," replied Bruce.
A series of low laughter came. It was difficult for Shiller to even make a sound, but his laughter still exerted considerable pressure. He looked at Bruce and said, "Come on, let me return those 1000 milliliters of blood to you. We'll be even then."
But Bruce shook his head, put on gloves, picked up a syringe and, without hesitation, inserted it into his own arm, watching as the red blood flowed out until it filled the entire bag.
Shiller stared straight at his actions, Amanda standing behind Bruce, for the first time not seeing the arrogance of certain victory in the professor's eyes.
After the blood bag was filled, Bruce pulled out the needle, shook the blood bag, picked up the glass next to it, and poured all the blood into it.
A full cup of blood, once it left the sealed container, immediately gave off a smell of blood.
Bruce expressionlessly held the cup in front of Shiller, Shiller looked up at him, his face submerged in the shadow against the light, with both divine and evil blended in his deep blue eyes.
"Batman..." Shiller instinctively blurted out.
"You know, Arrogant has been trying so hard for so long, just to complete the Joker's mission as soon as possible, so he doesn't have to entangle his fate with mine any longer, you also know, he is an excellent teacher, he would never hurt his students for the sake of amusement."
As Bruce spoke in a deep tone, he brought the glass full of fresh blood to Shiller's lips, saying, "But if you drink Batman's blood, Arrogant will never dream of freedom again, he can never escape the fate intertwined with me, breaking his own principle as a teacher, becoming a monster that abuses his students."
Shiller slowly widened his eyes, he looked up at Bruce, but instinctively moved backward until his head was leaning against the back of the chair, with nowhere else to retreat.
But the cup full of fresh blood was continuously pushed forward, and Shiller could only turn away to avoid the approaching smell of blood.
But the next second, Bruce's gloved hand grabbed Shiller's jaw, turned his head around, his thumb slid along the edge of Shiller's lip, forcefully pried open Shiller's jaw, tilted the cup with his other hand, and poured the fresh blood directly into his mouth.
With a "whoosh", Shiller disappeared from the chair under Amanda's surprised gaze, reappearing in the corner of the room a second later.
Shiller knelt on the ground, clutching his bloodied mouth, coughing and retching madly, not caring about the violent tremor that tore open the wound on his back, the fresh blood staining half of his prison uniform red.
Bruce, holding the glass, walked over. Shiller stumbled to his feet, trying to dodge, but Bruce smashed the glass on the ground, picked up a shard, and slashed it across his own palm with all his strength.
Shiller's movements uncontrollably stiffened for a moment, then his expression became vacant.
As the blood spurted out of Bruce's palm, the gray mist attacked, knocking him down to the ground.
The moment the gray mist condensed into a human figure, Bruce stood up as fast as possible and choked Shiller's throat from behind.
Shiller grabbed Bruce's wrist and shook him off, with a "swish", Bruce's blood splashed onto Shiller's face.
When the two ended their entanglement and broke away from each other, there was no composure in their expressions, no elegance in their posture, they were both covered in blood, pale-faced, and ragged like madmen and vagrants.
The balance only lasted for less than a second, one of the figures weakly knelt down, his hand covering his blood-filled mouth, his body trembling.
The other figure walked up to him, throwing away the blood-stained glass shard in his hand.
Bruce wiped his cheek with his bloodied hand, and also knelt down amidst the blood-soaked ground.
His outstretched hands, were like those of a baffled infant, or like spread bat wings.
Amid the ruins, Bruce slowly embraced Shiller.
He held his mentor, his enemy, his savior and father, his... lamb.
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