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Chapter 168: The Long Easter (8)

At the Gotham police station, Schiller looked thoughtfully at two lists while Gordon approached him, seeing several rows of names on them, with a few circled in red.

"These are the students who fell ill?"

"That's right."

"So which batch of Easter eggs went wrong? Was it those bought outside or those sent out by the Gotham school principal?"

"That's the problem. It was my colleagues who bought the batch of Easter eggs outside, and over seventy percent of the students who received these eggs suddenly fell ill."

"So, that means..." Gordon picked up the phone and said to the other end of the line, "Find out how many Easter eggs are currently circulating in the Gotham market and tell them to quickly figure out how to recall this batch of eggs. They are likely to be a batch of biochemical weapons that can drive people insane."

Gordon's tone was very serious. Just the thought that there might be hundreds or thousands of biochemical weapons that could drive people insane circulating in Gotham's market gave him a headache.

"There may be some connection here." Gordon took a deep breath to calm himself down, then said, "A batch of Easter eggs that can drive people insane has appeared on the market. At the same time, the Gotham University principal sent out regular eggs, asking the professors to make them themselves. What does this mean? Does he know in advance that the eggs sold outside might have problems?"

"Perhaps, but you should mobilize personnel to recall these eggs from the market first," Schiller yawned. He was getting tired and said, "I'm going back to rest for a while. I haven't slept for two nights for those students who fell ill."

"If you think I have a suspicion of murdering Sheldon, then come and arrest me after finding the real evidence," Schiller said, then turned around and left. Gordon did not stop him. Obviously, there were more important things now than the murder case of the Gotham school principal.

Once these eggs spread, it would be more terrifying than flooding Gotham. Who knows how many crazy people would take to the streets and kill? Gordon thought he had to stop all of this.

After Schiller returned to the Manor, he originally wanted to take a shower and go to bed, but as soon as he came out of the bathroom, he heard the mailbox bell downstairs ring. He went downstairs and found something had been placed inside the mailbox.

He opened the mailbox door and found a box inside. When he opened the box, there was a colorful Easter egg inside.

As soon as he took the egg out of the box, it "bang" exploded, and the shell flew around. A burst of unknown gas filled the air. Schiller asked himself, "Is this the same substance as the one in the patient's blood?"

"It's the same," the mist replied.

Then Schiller noticed that what exploded was not just the eggshell, but also a small note that was slowly drifting down. He reached out and grabbed the note, which read:

"Happy Easter - the Holiday Killer."

Schiller narrowed his eyes. The Holiday Killer? Wasn't that a character from the long Halloween comic?

But that guy was the Halloween killer. Why would the Holiday Killer come out on Easter? And shouldn't a killer be killing people instead of delivering insane Easter eggs? More importantly, why was it delivered to him?

When Batman arrived at Schiller Manor, he found Schiller painting colors on a goose egg. Schiller was so focused on his painting that even when Batman deliberately made a little noise, he didn't notice.

Batman had to cough to get his attention. Schiller turned around and glanced at him, saying, "Do you need something? If not, please don't disturb me while I'm creating."

Batman looked at the egg Schiller was painting. It had a big black smiley face in the middle, but the brush strokes were so rough that the smile looked strange.

Obviously, apart from the lack of technique and artistic value, this haphazard process couldn't be called creation.

"Did you receive the Easter egg from the so-called Holiday Killer?" Batman asked.

"It's because I received his egg that I decided to give him one back." Schiller picked up the egg he was painting and examined it. "I think mine is much better than his."

"Some gang bosses and upper-class people in Gotham received the Easter egg, went crazy, and were subdued and sent to a mental hospital."

"Did you receive it too?"

"Bruce Wayne did."

"Are you not planning to give him something in return?"

"Instead of that, I'm more interested in knowing what kind of substance can drive people crazy."

"It seems that you already have some speculation."

"I think it's similar to the fear gas we encountered before."

Schiller shook his head. "The symptoms are indeed similar, but there are differences."

"Do you think they are not the same thing?"

"That's right. Just because the external symptoms are similar, it doesn't prove that it's caused by the same pathogen. At least in my opinion, it shouldn't be fear gas."

What Schiller didn't tell Batman was that he had already ruled out the possibility of fear gas, because he was the one who used fear gas the most, even more than the inventor Scarecrow.

He had used fear gas to deal with many people in Hell's Kitchen before, and he was more familiar with the symptoms that fear gas could cause.

Although the symptoms of this case were somewhat similar to those of people who had inhaled fear gas, they were not exactly the same, and no traces of fear gas were found in their bodies.

"The suspicion of the Court of Owls cannot be ruled out, as they have not been completely eliminated," concluded Batman.

"What do you plan to do?" Schiller asked him.

"He must have a purpose for doing these things. If he wants to kill them, there should be better ways."

"Many people have not been affected," Batman continued. "The gang bosses are not so careless, and they won't open strange packages. Many people also don't have the leisure to buy Easter eggs. If he wants to kill people using this method, it's the least efficient way."

"This seems more like a warning, right? It's like he's saying, 'I'm going to cause trouble, starting on Easter, three days from now.'"

"He should be killing on Easter, otherwise he wouldn't call himself the Holiday Killer. The only question now is, who is his target and what is his purpose?"

"Perhaps many seemingly unrelated things can provide some clues."

"Such as?"

"Such as Sheldon's death. You know better than Gordon that it wasn't me who did it. If he really offended someone, or knew some important information that needed to be silenced, it shouldn't have happened at this critical juncture."

"The entire Gotham City is undergoing major reconstruction," Schiller sighed. "Even if gangs have a big grudge against him, they wouldn't act at this time. Besides the lack of manpower, assassinations at this time are likely to offend others who are focused on construction and cause a lot of rumors."

Schiller took a list from the other side of the table and handed it to Batman, saying, "This is an important clue. Before Easter, Sheldon distributed materials to many professors to make Easter eggs by themselves and give them to students, instead of buying them on the market."

"Later events proved that there were problems with the Easter eggs circulating in the market, so Sheldon probably knew about this problem in advance."

"Perhaps it involved his own interests. Sheldon prevented the logistics department from purchasing ready-made eggs from the market, but instead asked the professors to make them themselves. He wanted to avoid those problematic eggs."

"So, how did he know the news in advance? Could it be related to his death?"

"I thought you wouldn't care about this." Batman looked at Schiller and said.

"Anyway, the Easter egg that the holiday killer sent me is the first gift I received on Easter. I want to give him one in return."

"I think this clue should be enough for you to find something. If you find out where the holiday killer is hiding, then please bring my gift to him."

Schiller picked up the egg and handed it to Batman. Batman looked at the rough smiley face and squinted.

At the same time, Evans and Copperpot were chatting in a hospital room. Evans sighed and said, "The Gotham church had already been renovated, but now the foundation has cracked and it may have to be rebuilt entirely. Even the old Father who had been stationed there has left. I have nowhere to go this weekend."

"I didn't expect you to be a devout believer," Copperpot said to Evans.

"Of course," Evans said a bit frustrated. "Our principal advanced the Easter schedule, and I thought it was good because I could go to the church and pray on the evening of the festival. You know, Easter is about celebrating the new life of Jesus, and prayer and ceremony are very important."

"But now this happened," Evans said helplessly, spreading his hands. "First, it rained all day, floods broke out, Gotham was hit by an ice storm, and various roads cracked and buildings were destroyed."

"Just when things got a little better, there was a murder case at Gotham University. The case is still under investigation, and a holiday killer appeared out of nowhere, driving several gang bosses crazy..."

"This year's Easter is really long..." Evans sighed.

"Anyway, Easter is in three days," Copperpot said while lying in his hospital bed. "I have to go back to take care of my mother. Yesterday, when I went home, I wanted to send her to the hospital, but she refused and insisted on going back to our old house instead of living in the new apartment."

"Elders are always like that," Evans empathized. "My father is the same. Sometimes I feel like he is good to me, but other times, I feel like he is too old-fashioned and strict."

"The Godfather can tolerate you learning all sorts of nonsense. That's already pretty good," Copperpot said to Evans. "Which heir of a gang spends their days singing and dancing, without even practicing their shooting skills?"

Evans shrugged and said, "I can actually feel that my father doesn't like me being so idle, but he still indulges me. I don't know why..."

Then he hesitated and said, "I still remember that my father and my brother had a bad relationship. Maybe it was because my father had too high expectations of him."

"I was young then, but I vaguely remember that they argued fiercely."

"Afterwards, my brother died, and my father no longer allowed anyone to mention his name."

Evans sighed and said, "There are even many people who don't know that The Godfather had another son, named Alberto Falcone."