Chapter 149: Party and Umbrella (1)

Chapter 149: Party and Umbrella (1)

Victor stood in front of the window of Copperpot's old mansion, pulling on the window with all his might. He looked up and saw that there was still a lock on the window of this rundown old mansion. Schiller pulled out a handgun and handed it to Victor. Victor glanced at him and said, "You brought a gun?"

Schiller also looked at him and said, "Why are you surprised that I brought a gun? This is Gotham."

Victor was also surprised and said, "But why did you give it to me if you can't shoot?"

"My marksmanship is not accurate, so only you can do it."

Victor took the gun and muttered, "We are both outsiders, why do you look like a native here?"

He raised the gun, aimed at the old lock, and fired a shot. The lock sparked and was directly broken. Victor pushed open the window and climbed in, with Schiller following behind.

After entering, Victor pointed to the ground and said, "Master detective, it's time for you to shine."

Schiller shook his head and said, "Isn't it obvious? Mrs. Copperpot has been kidnapped."

As soon as he said this, his gaze fell on a corner of the living room. There was a very old shoe cabinet placed beside the door, with a pair of rain boots and several pairs of ordinary leather shoes on it. However, there was an umbrella placed beside the shoe cabinet.

Schiller walked to the umbrella, picked up the handle and looked at it, then gradually narrowed his eyes. Victor also walked over and looked at the umbrella with some doubt, "What's wrong? Is there something wrong with the umbrella?"

Schiller pursed his lips, did not answer, just turned the umbrella upside down and looked at the tip of the umbrella. There was a small circle on the tip, the pattern was inconspicuous, and it looked like someone's signature. Schiller held the tip of the umbrella, then tapped the ground with the handle of the umbrella.

Victor looked around and said, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing...just checking something." Schiller picked up the umbrella and returned to the center of the living room. He first walked to the sofa and said, "It seems that Mrs. Copperpot was dragged away from here."

Then he came to the left of the glass coffee table, which looked very delicate and showed that their family had some wealth.

On the glass coffee table was a tea set. Schiller picked it up and smelled it. Victor also walked over and looked at the tea set, "Although I don't have much detective experience, I can guess that someone put something in here, right?"

"Most likely." Schiller found a stack of newspapers nearby and wrapped the cups, handing them to Victor to take back for analysis. He then crouched down and looked under the sofa.

The wooden leg on the left side of the sofa left a scratch about 20 centimeters on the ground. Obviously, the sofa had been dragged.

He crouched down again and looked at the living room. The floor was scattered with messy items, which looked like a cabinet had been hit and the things on it had fallen down.

The table next to it was also knocked aside. A chair was overturned on the ground, with one leg broken. It looked like there had been a fight here.

Schiller sighed and said, "I don't think we need to look any further. Let's go back first. Whoever kidnapped Mrs. Copperpot, the police should be the ones to find them."

On the other side, Batman, who was investigating the leaders of the foreign Gang in Living Hell, also had a gain. A Gang member in a suit collapsed on the ground, looking at Batman in fear and trembling as he said, "Don't kill me, I'll tell you everything I know!"

"A few weeks ago, ah no! It's about a week and a half to two weeks ago! One of the seven bosses here died, we called him Black Hand Kevin, he was also the boss of the North District and the biggest territory..."

On the fourth floor of Arkham Psychiatric Hospital, Gordon and Victor stood outside the hospital room. Gordon said with some pity, "This kid really has no luck. He experienced a murder case, suddenly developed a difficult mental illness, and then his family was kidnapped. Even in Gotham, there are not many people as unlucky as him."

Victor sighed and said, "Actually, he is a very smart kid and learns quickly, but I found out that this is just how Gotham is..." He shrugged and said, "A talented person always encounters various troubles and then goes astray."

"I think Professor Rodriguez can cure him, just like he always says. He is not an incompetent doctor."

Victor looked at the window on the door, and following his gaze, Schiller walked from one side of the bed to the other while Copperpot lay on the bed not struggling, appearing numb and staring blankly at the ceiling with lifeless eyes.

"How did you sleep last night, Mr. Copperpot? Do you still feel like your muscles are out of control?" Schiller, wearing a white coat, stood by the bed with a medical record book in hand, writing and asking at the same time.

Copperpot didn't answer, lying on the bed like a stiff and pale puppet, showing no reaction to any sound from outside.

"It seems you're not doing too well." Schiller said while standing in place, "Most patients have some sluggish reactions after taking an excessive amount of sedatives, but I don't think you're one of them. Your mind should be very clear now, and the period of onset has passed."

"Why don't you want to answer me? Is it because some of your plans are not going well?"

Copperpot suddenly turned his head and stared at Schiller with those deeply embedded eyes. The look was somewhat terrifying, appearing numb and cold, but Schiller was not moved.

"Unfortunately, I can't use any magical hypnosis as shown in movies to make you say everything. In psychological and psychiatric treatment, if the patient does not cooperate, hypnosis cannot be effective."

"Similarly, if you don't cooperate with the treatment, no amount of medication will work. I am a doctor, not God. If you refuse to answer any questions, even God cannot cure you."

Copperpot's head moved again, and a hoarse voice like sawing wood came out from his throat. He said, "Cure... can it be cured?"

Schiller put down the medical record book and looked at him strangely, saying, "If it can't be cured, you should have been cremated by now."

Copperpot's mouth gradually opened, seeming to want to say something, but didn't. Schiller seemed to remember something and said, "Oh, I forgot, you're not even a college student."

He covered his forehead and said helplessly, "I know that many people with insufficient education call mental illness madness and an incurable disease, but that's not the case."

"Many people don't understand mental illness, so they talk about it with fear. Especially this genetic mental disorder, the onset can be extremely manic and aggressive, often seen as a terrible madness."

"But in fact, this is just a symptom of schizophrenia. According to the previous diagnosis, you should be classified as having tension-type schizophrenia, which often has intermittent onset, with symptoms of stiffness, and sometimes suddenly enters a state of excitement, with behavior becoming violent, but it can be self-relieved after a few hours."

Schiller patiently explained to Copperpot, "This type of schizophrenia has a better prognosis. It can be treated effectively with medication, and the difficulty generally lies in the relief of excited behavior. But as you can see, using sedatives has a good effect..."

Copperpot stared at Schiller with his eyes fixedly. Schiller's expression did not change, and he was telling the truth.

Actually, this is not a difficult disease. Even among the category of schizophrenia, it is relatively common. So his tone has been very calm, but this seems to have given Copperpot some vitality. He adjusted his neck back and tried to adjust his posture on the bed, then asked, "...Can it be cured...right?"

Schiller nodded and said, "Although I can't guarantee a complete cure, there shouldn't be any problem with leading a normal life most of the time."