Chaoying Psychotherapist [Zhongyingmei]

"Anne Kazel?"

"It's Anna! Anna Carville!"

Demon growled angrily at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Cynthia insincerely, "but I only remember a girl called Anne who wrote to me."

Demon's eyes were red: "You bitch—"

"Wait, is it Anna? Is she a Gotham University student? I remember she is left-handed, right?" Cynthia suddenly clapped her fists.

Demon took a deep breath slowly.

"Well, you have a conscience," he said, trying to sound calm. "Are you ready to die for her?"

Cynthia frowned suspiciously.

"But I don't think she died because of me," she said.

Demon was taken aback, and could hardly believe that she would say such words at such a time.

"What did you say?" he asked angrily.

"I said, I don't think she died because of me." Cynthia folded her arms calmly, "She died under the wooden barn of the special police."

"If it wasn't for you, how would she—"

"Because how about me?" Cynthia interrupted him.

She tidied up her shoulders gracefully, took a step, and slowly circled around Demon.

"What did I say to her? What did I tell her to do? Did I commit suicide in front of her? Did I encourage the parade? Did I instigate the police to open the wooden warehouse for her? No, I was just I was forced to die, that's all."

She walked around to Demon's side.

"People aren't wandering around my death, and neither is Anna. She's seeking lost justice, you know, Desmond Cavill.

"—the justice you took from her heart."

Demon's facial features twisted in a gesture of extreme anger and hatred.

"No!!!" he roared, "You—you witch, you bewitched her—"

He loaded the machine gun and pointed it at Cynthia.

"I'm going to kill you!! I'm going to kill you!!!"

Cynthia opened her arms and closed her eyes.

"Anna will be very disappointed in you," she whispered.

Demon gritted his teeth suddenly, and tightened his fingers——

"boom--"

The sound of the wooden barn echoed in the shooting room and lingered for a long time.If you only look at the targets and noise-cancelling earmuffs in the room, everything seems to be normal.

Except for the unique smell of gunpowder smoke.

Demon's eyes widened, and he lowered his head slowly, seeing a rust-like red glowing from his abdomen.

Behind him, Rhett held the wooden warehouse high, shoulders raised, arms tensed, eyes wide open in shock, breathing rapidly.

A wisp of smoke rose from the barn pipe in his hand.

Demon didn't have the strength to look back any longer, he just gave Cynthia a final look, his eyes were confused, the emotions inside might be so complicated that even Cynthia couldn't analyze it, or it might just be blank.

He knelt on the ground, then fell slowly.

When he exhaled his last breath and blood stained the floor, his eyes were still closed.

Cynthia looked at him, her fingers trembling imperceptibly.

Agents rushed to clean up and record the scene, and Demond's body was drawn with a white line, wrapped in a body bag, and carried out of the shooting room.

In the corner of the room, Rhett and Cynthia were surrounded by Bau's team members.

"So, Rhett really did it??" Morgan asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, he did it. He remembered that when Morgan took him to train last time, he dropped a live ammunition here, so he took advantage of the gap between me and the prisoner, sneaked there to sneak it, and then stuffed it It went into the magazine in the training cabin." Cynthia explained with a smile, a blanket was draped over her shoulders, which was specially used by the FBI to comfort the victim.

"Oh my God, Rhett, you are so good, I knew you would be able to do it." Said happily.

"Only one bullet, not bad. Congratulations." Hodge patted Reid on the shoulder, also quite relieved.

Rhett touched his nose, blushed and hesitated, and after a while, he said, "But I aimed at his head..."

Everyone laughed.

"Oh, Rhett." Cynthia winked at him mischievously, "The results are different wherever you hit? As I said, I can only do 'hit everything', not 'hit wherever I hit'. .”

Garcia's eyes widened: "God, Cynthia, did you teach him how to shoot?"

"I never knew you could still use a wooden barn." Morgan looked at Cynthia in surprise.

Chattering, the atmosphere in the corner became lively, which drove the entire shooting room, and the haze caused by the tragedy that happened just now disappeared, as if it had been dispelled.

10 minutes later, the elevator room.

Cynthia remained inside with Rhett alone.

As the only two living people at the scene and participants in the case, they all need to take notes.Cynthia's protection was released with the death of the prisoner, and she had to go to the same place to go through the formalities.

The two stood side by side in silence.

Rhett clasped his hands, waited for a while, and finally couldn't help but glanced at Cynthia.

"Hey, Cynthia," he called to her.

Cynthia looked over at him.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Rhett hesitated for a moment, then blinked his doggy eyes, and said softly, "...Are you in a bad mood?"

Cynthia was startled.

"Why do you say that?"

"Um…………"

Rhett pondered: "I don't know, it's just a feeling...I mean, you don't look like you're frightened, but you don't breathe a sigh of relief because the danger is over, but rather... "

He glanced at her light blue eyes, and the slightly furrowed eyebrows above them.

"...with a heavy heart."

Cynthia turned to look at him in surprise.

"Your observation is as good as your mind, Rhett," she sighed.

Rhett touched the back of his neck, a little at a loss.

Cynthia sighed softly, and said slowly: "I don't know...but I've been thinking..."

She bowed her head.

"Anna. Her death does have something to do with me."

Rhett opened his eyes wide, and before he could say anything, Cynthia had already continued.

"I know what you want to say, Rhett." She whispered, "Indeed, I have always used this reason to comfort myself-'You didn't do anything', 'You didn't know it would become like this ’, ‘It’s not your fault’. But the fact is, it’s all because of me. She—Anna—I still remember that little girl, she wrote me so often, she was a beautiful, lovely child. If She's not a fan of mine, would it have ended differently if I wasn't in her life?"

Cynthia raised her eyes and looked at Rhett as if asking for proof: "She should have lived happily together with her mother's share. But now, her father died because of me.

"—she'll be disappointed, to me."

The eyes of Demon when he fell to the ground overlapped with Anna's green eyes.

You killed what was left of her family, Cynthia.

You will disappoint her.

At that time, the words she accused of Demon were not spurning herself?

Rhett looked at her as if his tongue was tied, looking very anxious, but he couldn't even speak a complete sentence.

He just repeated over and over: "You can't think like that, Cynthia...how can you think like that?...how can you think like that?"

Until they got out of the elevator and came to the door of the office, Rude still couldn't think of a satisfactory answer to himself.

He could only grab Cynthia's wrist, exerting a little strength, trying to convey his thoughts with his hands.

"Cynthia," he said, "don't take all the mistakes, that... that's not healthy."

Cynthia smiled.

"I see, thank you, Rhett." She looked at him gently, "You go in first, I have to make a call."

Rhett hesitated to speak and gave her one last look, then pushed the door open and went in.

Watching the gap in the door slowly close, Cynthia lowered her head, and the smile on her mouth gradually disappeared.

She took out her phone from her bag, glanced at the familiar logo on the screen, paused, and made a call.

In less than a second, the call was connected.

"Hey."

Cynthia greeted the other end.

"..."

The person over there took two deep breaths violently before saying, "Do you know what you're doing?"

Cynthia rolled her eyes.

"I'm just out of danger. Is that what you want to say to me?"

Bruce was unmoved: "I've already said what I wanted to tell you a long time ago."

"What? Alfred's dessert? I see, and I really want to eat it." Cynthia joked.

Bruce sighed.

"It's dangerous, and you can't put yourself in perpetual danger, Cynthia," he said wearily.

"The danger has been lifted." Cynthia said, "I can solve it, and I told you.——You should really see how Rhett and I work together. My God, I don't even need to signal What he has to do next, he just—”

"—I've heard enough about that Rhett today." Bruce said darkly, "Yes, you may have good luck this time, and you happen to have a nerd with a super IQ protecting you—but Luck is not always with you, one day, danger will come to you, and you can't avoid it."

Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief.

"I don't feel that there is always danger around me. But you, it's been like this, I'm already very annoying, and you still—"

"'Borrowing'?" Bruce repeated. "What's bothering you?"

Cynthia was angry: "I told you not to—"

"Cynthia." Bruce called her in a deep voice, "It's about this, right? Are you blaming yourself? Blaming yourself for what?"

Cynthia froze for a moment, pursed her lips, and didn't plan to speak anymore.

Bruce on the other end was silent for a while, as if organizing his words.

Immediately, he said softly: "This is the first thing you face when you make a decision, Cynthia. It is very important to you. If you really want to do it (long pause) ... You should adjust your mentality. The first time you were in a bad mood, and there will be countless times after that, what should you do?"

Cynthia was silent for a while, then sighed softly.

"I have a sense of guilt," she said. "I've killed a family and I... I feel like I'm doing something bad by my very existence."

Bruce let out a deep laugh.

Cynthia: "?"

Cynthia said angrily, "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," Bruce said, "I'm just remembering the past."

"Before?" Cynthia asked.

"Do you remember? What did you tell me when I said, 'I became Batman to persuade people to be good, but to attract more evil darkness'?" Bruce asked slowly, his voice low and With a smile.

Cynthia froze for a moment, opened her mouth, and said nothing.

Bruce took it on his own, as if he guessed that she would not answer.

"Everything has a dark side, Cynthia. Don't focus all your attention on the dark, but also on the light you bring." He said almost gently.

Cynthia listened blankly, touched her nose for a while, and said with a smile: "Aren't you going to refute me? There is indeed a negative element in the influence I caused?"

"Of course not." Bruce answered as a matter of course. "It's true. If you really care about it and feel sad about it, I suggest you go directly to the root cause and give up the idea."

Cynthia rolled her eyes again.

"Hell no," she said.