The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

Chapter 1194 The Cry of the Lamb ([-])

In the dimly lit corridor, there is only the sign at the door of the operating room, emitting a faint icy light. In this special operating room in this special hospital, a piece of frosted glass is inlaid in the center of the door.

When the light in the house passes through the frosted glass and reflects on the ground of the corridor, it is like leaving a puddle of water on the ground, and looking inward along the glass, only some hazy images can be seen .

Through the glass, you can see the upper body of a naked man. He looks like he is lying on the operating table, with one arm hanging down. When the bright light shines on his smooth and firm back muscles, the atmosphere is like Very famous oil painting "The Death of Marat".

Blood dripped down his arm, forming a pool of puddles on the ground. His pale face was reflected on the smooth tiled floor. Sweat slid from the outside of his sunken eyes under the arch of his eyebrows, all the way to his thin bones. Sensitive jaw, and then dripped to the ground.

The instrument made a slight buzzing sound, and in the trance and haze, the doctor holding a scalpel covered in blood gently took off his mask, put the knife in his hand on the tray next to him, and turned around to take a look Instrument, opened his mouth and said:

"His physical signs have reached the limit, and the operation cannot continue."

"Dr. Fitzgibbon, I hope you understand that he is not an ordinary person and will not die during this operation, and you must complete Ms. Waller's explanation. This is your job." Standing aside, the figure is obvious A female nurse who was different from the other nurses spoke.

The doctor called Dr. Fitzgibbon turned to look at her, and said seriously: "Although I am known as the doctor of death, I am not a doctor who is good at making patients die.

"My operation has a high success rate, so you'd better pay attention to my opinion. The operation has been carried out to this point, and the effect you want can be achieved. So what's the point of continuing?"

The overly strong nurse standing beside him glanced down at the man lying on the operating table.

An extremely long and deep wound was opened on his naked upper body from the back of the head to the tailbone, and almost the entire spine was exposed.

At this time, there was an abnormal reflection on the surface of the exposed bone. Dr. Fitzgibbon glanced at the nurse's face, seemed to remember something, clicked his lips a little bit, muttered something in a low voice, and tried his best to put it away. dissatisfied expression.

He picked up another syringe from the metal tray next to him, grabbed the edge of his glove with the other hand, shook his head helplessly and said:
"Well, I know that Ms. Waller has some personal vendettas with this Professor Schiller. She hopes that the result of the operation will be as she wished, but it is best not to go so smoothly. If that is the case, then double the dose. "

After speaking, he directly held the syringe like a knife, and plunged the sharp needle into the gap of Schiller's exposed spine.

In an instant, Schiller trembled violently like an electric shock, the silver metal light spread along the surface of the bone, and as Schiller twitched uncontrollably, more blood burst out.

The rather strong nurse standing by the door stepped forward, pinned Schiller's neck with her gloved hands, and pressed him firmly on the operating table, preventing him from struggling.

It wasn't until the silver light penetrated into the bones that Schiller let out a breath like a dying fish, and lay on the spot without moving.

And his whole body, as if he had just been fished out of the water, his black hair was soaked in sweat, mixed with blood, dripping down from his arms.

Dr. Fitzgibbon brought three more syringes, as before, piercing the neck bone, lumbar spine, and tailbone respectively. After multiple injections, Schiller's entire spine completely changed its color, that dull The color, even down the spine, begins to spread to the ribs and shoulder blades.

Schiller was pale and lying on the operating table with a sluggish expression, but Dr. Fitzgibbon put down the needle in his hand and took two steps back. After giving Schiller a final look, he turned and walked out of the operating room.

Amanda Waller was waiting outside the door of the operating room. When she saw Dr. Fitzgibbon coming out, she raised her eyebrows, her expression self-evident. Dr. Fitzgibbon glanced at the translucent glass in the center of the door, and said: said:
"You should know that there will not be any scholar in this world who has studied more deeply in the direction of nano-implantation than me. The micro-bomb you want to use is completely pediatrics to me. It is used on this Professor Schiller. The nano-controller is the masterpiece of my life."

Seeing Amanda's slightly relaxed face, Dr. Fitzgibbon coughed lightly and said: "Humans are vertebrates, and no one can deny the importance of the spine to humans. The close connection and precise relationship between this skeletal system The ingenious cooperative relationship is a masterpiece of God. When you hold a spine in your hand, it is like holding the scepter of life."

"Dr. Fitzgibbon, I didn't come here to listen to your poems." Amanda turned to look at the gray-haired doctor and said, "I just want to know that you have embezzled more than half of the research funds for miniature bombs, and the research you have developed What kind of effect can the so-called human bone nano-controller achieve?"

"No, no, no, this is not a bone controller!" Dr. Fitzgibbon shook his head slightly and said, "This is more of a neural controller. You should know what a human nerve is, right? The reason why some paralyzed patients cannot walk , not because of their bones, but their nerves."

"Whatever the result of nerve damage, the nano-controller can achieve what effect." Dr. Fitzgibbon tried his best to explain his experimental results to Amanda in easy-to-understand words.

"You mean that if I think about it, this professor will be like a paralyzed patient in a car accident, unable to stand up again?" Amanda asked with interest.

"This is just the simplest and most superficial method of use. If you want, you can make him unable to move at all, you can also transmit unimaginable pain through human nerves, and even artificially create a withdrawal reaction... the ability of this thing , depends on how much pain you want the other person to suffer, and your imagination," Dr. Fitzgibbon said with a shrug.

"I'm not a sadist." Amanda said, and then she turned her head, looked at Schiller who was still lying motionless on the operating table through the blurred glass in the center of the door, and said, "Are you sure?" During the operation, he was awake?"

"Of course, but I can only tell you the truth. It's not really painful. Apart from the process of cutting open the skin and muscles to find the spine, the pain may not even be comparable to the severe electric shock. The trembling and convulsions all come from the nerves. Reflexes, don't actually transmit pain."

"Pain is not the greatest torture." Amanda said with a sneer: "For this group of cruel and ruthless serial killers, the kind of humiliation of being a knife and me being a fish, and being reduced from a butcher to a lamb is the most embarrassing thing for them. painfully."

After finishing speaking, Amanda pushed open the door of the operating room, and all the other nurses in the operating room left, leaving only Amanda standing in front of the operating table, and Schiller lying on the operating table with his eyes slightly closed.

The wound on Schiller's back has been stitched up, but because the wound is too deep and the area is too large, the sutures used are very thick and the traces are obvious. The dense stitches seem to have installed a zipper on his back .

Schiller's head was turned sideways and half of his face was pressed against the operating table. The exposed half had no blood on his lips, and his eyes were still slack, except that his eyelashes would flutter occasionally.

"Look at you, professor." Amanda looked down at Schiller, with a sneer at the corner of her mouth, and said, "You didn't scream, you didn't shout, you didn't even say a word."

"Is this because, do you think, if you yell, it is no different from those lambs that screamed because you abused them?"

Amanda pursed her lips, exhaled slightly, raised her head high, looked at the air in midair and said:

"You cruel, indifferent and ruthless murderers feel that you are two different creatures from ordinary humans. You regard them as pigs and dogs, and feel that you can slaughter or abuse them at will."

"Therefore, my favorite thing to do is to crush your arrogance and let you understand that you are no different from the meat on the chopping board. You are not rulers and controllers, and you are also just weak and helpless lambs."

Schiller blinked slightly, and said in an extremely hoarse voice: "Amanda, do you know? If you write this into a paper, I'm even willing to give you an upper-middle score."

"Because you stated your motivation, proposed a method, firmly implemented it, obtained certain data, and reached a conclusion. The argumentation process is complete...much better than some people."

Amanda put her hands on the edge of the operating table, leaned forward and straight down, looked at Schiller's profile, and said:

"You are like this. To you, the precious lives of ordinary people are nothing more than data. Those articles made up of codes that appear in newspapers are behind one cruel murder after another, and you only regard them as A fun joke."

"Amanda, you are also feeling pain, why?" Schiller asked intermittently.

"Because I had hoped for you, and so did my family." Amanda straightened her body, lowered her eyes, looked at Schiller's pale side face and said, "My parents thought my younger brother would be a good teacher, But he killed them, I thought I met a good professor, but you are a serial murderer as vicious as them."

"You are very determined and you work very hard, but there is only one problem." Schiller closed his eyes as if he was a little tired, and his hoarse voice was like a gust of wind blowing through a barren canyon.

"You have no talent, no talent, just an ordinary person."

"Shouldn't I be grateful for this?" Amanda's tone trembled violently: "It's a good thing I'm an ordinary person with a normal mind, not a damn lunatic like you!"

"If you don't understand us, you will never be able to deal with us." Schiller's Adam's apple trembled, and his voice gradually weakened: "Soon you will find that you have met a real genius...you will come back to me of."

Amanda Waller stared at Schiller with cold eyes, but the readings and sounds of the nearby instruments told her that Schiller's vital signs were not optimistic, and if she took some rough measures now, the professor would not have made a contribution opportunity.

So, after Amanda stared at Schiller for tens of seconds, she turned around and walked out of the operating room, but before she could walk out of the corridor, she saw Davis walking quickly at the corner.

"Good news, Amanda." Davis raised his tone, looked at Amanda and said, "The Wayne Group took the initiative to contact me, they showed a strong interest in our project, Bruce Wayne may be able to help We get through it!"

"Who?!"

"Bruce Wayne!"

(End of this chapter)