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

When the light in the room shines through the frosted glass and reflects on the floor of the corridor, it is like leaving a puddle of water on the ground, and looking inward through the glass, you can only see some hazy images.

Through the glass, you can see the upper body of a naked man, he looks like he is lying on the operating table, one arm hangs down, and the bright light shines on his smooth and tight back muscles, the atmosphere is very similar to the famous oil painting "The Death of Marat".

Blood trickled down his arm, forming puddles on the ground, the smooth tiled floor reflecting his pale face, sweat sliding down the outside of his eyes sunken under the arch of his brow, all the way to his skinny jaw, and then to the ground.

The instrument made a slight buzzing sound, and in a trance and hazy halo, the doctor holding the scalpel with blood on his hand gently took off his mask, put the knife in his hand on the tray next to him, turned around and glanced at the instrument, and said:

"His physiology was reaching its limit, and the operation could no longer be continued."

"Dr. Fitzgiburn, I want you to understand that he is not an ordinary person and will not die in this operation, and you must do what Ms. Waller explains, and it is your job." A female nurse who was standing on the side, with a distinctly different body shape from the other nurses, spoke.

The doctor known as Dr. Fitzgiburn 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 surgery has a high success rate, so you'd better pay attention to my opinion, the surgery has been carried out so far, the results you have requested can be achieved, so what's the point of continuing to do it?"

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

An extremely long and deep wound opened on his naked upper body from the back of his head to the tail vertebrae, exposing almost the entire vertebrae of his spine.

At this time, there was an abnormal reflection on the surface of the exposed bones, and Dr. Fitzgiburn glanced at the nurse's face, as if remembering something, and muttered a little bit, and tried to put away his dissatisfied expression.

He picked up another syringe from the metal tray next to him, tugged at the edge of his glove with his other hand, shook his head helplessly, and said:

"Well, I know that Ms. Waller has some personal vendetta with this Professor Schiller, and she hopes that the operation will turn out as she wants, but the process should not be so smooth, in that case, then double the dose."

With that, he took the syringe like a knife and plunged the sharp needle into the gap between Schiller's exposed vertebrae.

In an instant, Schiller trembled violently like an electric shock, and a silvery metallic light spread along the surface of the bone, and with Schiller's uncontrollable convulsions, more blood burst out.

The sturdy nurse standing by the door stepped forward and put her gloved hand around Schiller's neck, pressing him to the operating table so hard that he could not struggle.

It wasn't until the silver light seeped into the bones that Schiller let out a breath like a dying fish and lay still.

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

Dr. Fitzgiburn brought three more syringes, which were pierced into the neck, lumbar and tail vertebrae, as before, and after several injections, Schiller's entire spine completely changed color, and the dull color even spread down the spine to the ribs and shoulder blades.

Schiller lay pale and distracted on the operating table, but Dr. Fitzgiburn put the needle down in his hand and took two steps back, took one last look at Schiller, and then turned and walked out of the operating room.

Amanda Waller was waiting outside the door of the operating room, and when she saw Dr. Fitzgibbon coming out, she raised her eyebrows, and her expression was self-evident, Dr. Fitzgiburn glanced at the translucent glass in the center of the door, and said:

"You should know that there will not be any scholar in this world who has studied more deeply than me in the direction of nano implantation, and the miniature bomb you want to use is completely pediatric for me, and the nanocontroller used on this Schiller professor is my life's masterpiece."

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

"Dr. Fitzgiburn, I'm not here to listen to you read poetry." Amanda turned her head to look at the gray-haired doctor and said, "I just want to know what kind of effect you can achieve by embezzling more than half of the research funds for the microbomb, and the so-called human bone nanocontroller you have researched." ”

"No, no, no, it's not a bone controller!" Dr. Fitzgiburn shook his head lightly and said, "It's more of a neural controller, you should know what the nerves of the human body are, right?" Some paralyzed people are unable to walk not because of a problem with their bones, but because of their nerves. ”

"What will happen to nerve damage, nanocontrollers can do." Dr. Fitzgiburn worked hard to explain his results to Amanda in plain language.

"You mean that if I wanted to, this professor would be like a paralyzed patient in a car accident and would never be able to stand up again?" Amanda asked with interest.

"It's just the simplest, most superficial way to use it, you can make him completely immobile if you want, you can also transmit unimaginable pain through the human nerves, and you can even artificially create a withdrawal reaction...... The ability of this thing depends on how painful you want the other person to be, as well as your imagination. Dr. Fitzgiburn shrugged his shoulders and said.

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

"Of course, though, I can only tell you the truth, it's not really too painful, except for the process of cutting open the skin and muscles to find the spine, the pain may not even be as strong as a violent electric shock, and the tremors and convulsions are all from nerve reflexes, and they don't actually transmit pain."

"Pain is not the greatest torment." Amanda sneered and said, "For these ruthless serial murderers, the humiliation of being a knife and a fish and a fish and a meat and being reduced from a butcher to a lamb is the most painful thing for them. ”

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

The wound on Schiller's back had been stitched up, but because the wound was too deep and too large, the sutures used were very thick, and the marks were obvious, and the stitches were densely packed, as if a zipper had been attached to his back.

Schiller's head was sideways, and half of his face was pressed against the table of the operating table, half of which was exposed, his lips were not bloody, and his eyes were still very loose, except for the occasional flutter of his eyelashes.

"Look at you, Professor." Amanda looked at Schiller condescendingly, a sneer appeared at the corner of her mouth, and she said, "You didn't scream, you didn't shout, you didn't even say a word. ”

"Is it because, you think, if you cry out, it's no different from the lambs who have screamed because you have been abused?"

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

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

"Therefore, my favorite thing to do is to crush this pride of yours and make you understand that you are no different from the meat on the board, that you are not a dominator and a controll, but also a weak and helpless lamb."

Schiller blinked lightly and said in an extremely hoarse voice, "Amanda, you know what? If you write this as an essay, I'm even willing to give you an upper-middle grade. ”

"Because you wrote down your motives, you came up with a method, you followed through with it, you got some data, you got a conclusion, and the argumentation process was complete...... Much stronger than some. ”

Amanda propped her hands on the edge of the operating table, leaned forward and vertically down, looked at Schiller's side face, and said:

"You are like this, the precious lives of ordinary people, in your opinion, are nothing more than data, those articles that appear in the newspapers are composed of codes, behind them are one brutal bloody case after another, and you only take this as a joke for fun."

"Amanda, you're feeling pain too, why?" Schiller asked intermittently.

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

"You're determined and hardworking, but there's only one problem." Schiller closed his eyes as if he was tired, and his hoarse voice was like a gust of wind blowing in a barren canyon.

"You have no talent, you don't have talent, you're just an ordinary person."

"Shouldn't I be glad about that?" Amanda's tone shook fiercely: "It's good that I'm a normal person in my right mind, not a damn madman like you!" ”

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

Amanda Waller stared at Schiller with cold eyes, but the readings and sounds of the instruments next to her told her that Schiller's vital signs were not optimistic, and that if she took some brutal measures now, the professor would have no chance to contribute.

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

"Good news, Amanda." Davis raised his tone, looked at Amanda and said, "I was reached out to by the Wayne Group, they showed a strong interest in our project, and Bruce Wayne might be able to help us get through this!" ”

"Who?!"

"Bruce Wayne!"

(End of chapter)