The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

When the cold mist sticks to the colder glass, it condenses into tiny drops of water. The strings of water drops are connected, and when they slide down from the top of the window frame, they look like warm pearl necklaces and Like a monster in the dark, with sharp claws extending from top to bottom.

After the fine water mist converged, the traces that flowed out made the glass look clearer, and looking in from these traces, a figure leaning on a chair had a paler complexion than the mist.

Although he didn't look haggard or fragile at all, his complexion had an extremely abnormal paleness. He stretched out his almost bloodless fingers, stroked his cheek, then straightened up, holding the armrests of the chair with both hands , straightened his back.

And when he opened his eyes, the pupil in the center of the gray eyeball was very small, and the rest of the place looked like a lifeless desert, very barren.

When he was concentrating and projecting his eyes on something, he had an extremely abnormal concentration, but he seemed a little slack.

There was a "dong dong dong" knock on the door, and it could be heard that the person who knocked on the door was very unconfident, and the last sound was inaudible.

This cannot be blamed on Merkel standing outside the door, because just now, Schiller, who stepped into the soil of the garden again from the house, used a garden shovel to dig out all the flower fertilizers that had been buried. Lay the relatively complete parts on the ground, turn each part with a gardening shovel, pick and choose, like a customer in a vegetable market.

Merkel could see that Schiller hadn't found what he was looking for, so he didn't think it would be wise for him to knock now.

But as a housekeeper, he has the responsibility to inform his master about the upcoming itinerary. Merkel could only bite the bullet and knocked on the door, and prayed that whoever made Schiller become like this must not be implicated. on him.

"Please come in." Schiller's voice was a little low, but not angry, and seemed too calm, but it made Merkel's heart beat violently.

It was like walking alone in the forest, but suddenly heard a strange noise, the fear was not strong, but continuous.

Merkel took a deep breath, tried hard to recall what she had learned in the emotional stability class, and summoned up the courage to turn the doorknob.

Pushing open the door, closing the door, and turning on the lights, a series of actions were fast and smooth, but when Merkel stood in the room, she had already forgotten what she was going to say.

"What are you afraid of?" Schiller's voice came from behind the somewhat dark desk, and he said, "I know, you are here to inform me that a group of people, before I held a banquet to invite them, You are going to invite me to a banquet, which is unreasonable and boring."

Merkel was silent and didn't speak, because his instinct was telling him that the other party was not chatting with him, and Merkel didn't even hear the boredom he often heard in the other party's tone, which was different from his The content of the speech is completely inconsistent.

"It's a bit dark here, sir, would you like to turn on the light?" Merkel stood next to the switch on the wall, but wished that there was a bigger darkness that he could stand in.

"No, I don't want to turn on the light." Schiller's answer reveals a seriousness. Merkel has never heard that the professor answered his question so positively, but this is actually not happy news.

Merkel has long discovered that there is more than one Schiller, but because he has never met other Schillers, he does not know whether the Schiller who hired him is good or bad among them.

But now, he knows that his career and the choice of every path have cost him a lot of luck.

"Come here, let me remember your face." Schiller said to Merkel: "I suffer from prosopagnosia, so I usually don't distinguish everyone by their facial features."

Merkel took only one step forward, and then he said: "It's okay, sir, you don't need to remember any of the housekeeper's faces, we'll be here forever."

"I like your attitude very much, so you don't have to hold back the bad news and wait for a chance to speak." Schiller tapped the table with the pen in his hand and said.

Merkel only felt more nervous, his Adam's apple trembled up and down, and instinctively stretched out his hand to press the light switch, as if controlling the time when the light came would give him a sense of security.

"The Falcone family sent an invitation letter. I hope you can go to the Falcone Manor tonight to attend the family dinner hosted by the godfather. The invitation letter specifically states that you are not allowed to bring weapons."

When she said the last sentence, Merkel had already started to grit her teeth. Schiller nodded, stood up from the chair, put one hand into the pocket of the left suit and said: "This is the case for everyone in the upper class." A stupid question that every scholar will hear, does not allow a powerless person to carry a gun, will it appear that he is a little guilty?"

Merkel bit the bullet and replied: "This is not a regulation for you alone, and of course you don't have to abide by it. This is actually just a polite, unarmed warning, which is useless in Gotham."

"Turn on the light," Schiller said.

With a "pop", the switch was flipped and there was a soft sound. The moment the light came on, Merkel could only see that pair of desert-like eyes, whose pupils shrank even more because they were not used to the suddenly bright light. Small.

"You don't have to worry, I'm different from him. I have full patience for these social etiquettes and entertainment, and I understand the rules, enjoy the honor brought by the upper class, and understand the price to be paid for enjoying this respect." Xi Le uttered the longest and most complex sentence since he spoke, but it did not relieve Merkel at all.

In the past, many times, Merkel desperately hoped that Schiller could explain something to him, because explanations always make people feel relaxed, as if the other party is focusing on you, values ​​you, and devotes himself to you Conversation, giving people a hint that "this conversation will definitely go well".

But now, Schiller's explanation only makes Merkel's heart tighten, because he instinctively feels that it is not a good thing at all to have a good conversation with the current Schiller.

"I remember that there are still two good bottles of red wine in the wine cabinet." Schiller came out from behind the desk, and as he walked out of the room, he said to Merkel: "I'm going to change clothes, and you help me put the wine in." Pack it up and drive the car to the door for me, thank you."

After Schiller walked out of the room, Merkel leaned against the wall as if she was about to faint. When his back touched the wall, he felt an astonishing coolness coming from his body that was about to freeze. cold sweat.

After Merkel prepared the wine, he saw Schiller coming out of the room. Instead of the black suit he had always liked to wear, he was wearing a dark brown checked suit and black Turtleneck and no glasses.

It was the first time for Merkel to see Schiller's gray eyes so clearly, but he still felt that this was not a good thing.

Because these eyes have a wonderful magic power. When he looks directly at you, you always feel that the other party understands you wholeheartedly, even deeper than yourself.

Standing on the window on the second floor of the manor, Merkel saw Schiller walking out the door with a bag.

But before he got into the car, the headlights of the car in front of him suddenly turned on, and the beam of light from the headlights shone on Schiller's body. His pupils shrank too small, making his eyes look like a blind man who had been blind for a long time.

When the lights came on, Schiller saw a figure sitting in the driver's seat, but Schiller still walked to the side of the car, opened the rear door and sat on it, and said, "Falcone Manor."

The tremor of starting the engine caused the wine in the bottle to shake slightly, and the figure sitting in the driver's seat saw Schiller's eyes in the mirror facing the rear seat above.

"Who are you?" Schiller asked proactively.

"I'm your driver." The figure sitting in the driver's seat replied.

"Do you have any special obsession with the driver?" Schiller turned sideways, straightened the red wine on the other seat, made the side of the bag tightly against the back of the seat, and sat down by himself. Straighten, lean your back completely on the back of the seat, and look at the rearview mirror of the car.

"Professor, I'm sorry that we met for the first time under such circumstances, but I actually wanted to tell you that you don't have to go to the next banquet at all, because it will be a boring performance, as long as you Turn the car around, and you'll have three more meaningful hours in your life."

"Is this why you came to be a driver?" Schiller kept his eyes locked on the mirror, making sure that the figure in front of him could see his eyes through the mirror, and he said, "If I'm not going to turn, what are you going to do?" ?”

"Of course I will not resort to any violent means, it is not aesthetically pleasing, but I have to tell you that this is not a banquet, but a bloody execution, those who once fed them will eventually kill them."

"You came here, drove my car, and persuaded me to make a turn, but you don't have to go around this kind of detour with a psychologist. You are here to make sure that I will be able to reach the banquet scene, and you are also here to make sure that I I will definitely maintain the highest interest to watch your performance."

Schiller's eyes in the mirror didn't even blink. The person sitting in the front row shook his head with an extremely slight movement. The fat on the side of his cheeks seemed to vibrate along the bumps of the vehicle. He looked in the mirror. Schiller's eyes, asked "...what happened to your eyes?"

"My eyesight is not very good, and I suffer from severe face blindness. When you stop the car and get out of the cab, I won't remember what you look like." Schiller said, "So, You don't need to wear a mask at all, and I won't be able to recognize who you are at the next banquet."

The hand on the steering wheel tightened, and the figure in the driver's seat continued to look up at the mirror and said, "Can I say that? I feel a little disappointed. You don't seem to want to discuss with me what will happen at the next banquet. Not at all as strict, pungent, and offensive as you make out in your article."

"Or...you are not actually a brutal enough serial killer as described in your article? You are neither indifferent nor cruel. You look like a lunatic on the surface, but in fact, you have never done anything. Anything over the line, stand with the hypocritical Batman as his friend, not his enemy."

"You're sharp," Schiller said. "It's been that way for a long time."

"I look crazy but never hurt innocents, I look like I have a serious mental illness but I can think rationally, I look like I'm an enemy of Batman but I've been trying to save him, you know why? ?”

The people in front didn't answer, so Schiller himself replied: "Because Batman was very boring at that time. If he can't grow up, it doesn't make any sense to stand opposite him."

"It sounds like he's improved?" the person sitting in front asked in a relaxed tone.

"Both of us have changed a lot." Schiller said, brushing his fingers lightly over the top of the wine cork, "He has grown, and the biggest gain for me is that I finally don't have to look at it like a baby." , looking at him closely."

Schiller's mouth shape stayed for a while on purpose, he lowered his eyelids, covered his own eyes, deliberately suppressed his voice, and said like a snake making a "hissing" sound:

"So... I can do something I like."