radicalducati Chapter 32 The snow-white pearls were stained crimson.
Chapter 32 The snow-white pearls were stained crimson.
Looking out through the mesh grilles of the ventilation openings, one can get a general view of the entire underground factory.
Brass or steel pipes climb the walls like veins, and various chemical equipment is displayed. Black rubber pipes twist and coil like snakes.
People dressed in psychiatric gowns moved about, while armed caregivers were scattered around guarding the area.
The boiler-shaped vessel continuously emitted plumes of steam, creating a visible white mist that blurred the features of the people in the air.
This is the hidden, darker part of Arkham Asylum, buried deep beneath the surface.
Batman had seen the documents in Gordon's hands, but the scene before him could not be deduced from the missing number of people on the books, which only recorded the status and number of organ matches.
Clearly, in addition to organ transplantation, Klein also devoted himself to human experimentation and chemical research.
Depending on the situation, the latter might even be his primary objective.
On the staircase leading down from the first floor, a man in a suit is directing the people below.
"Put everything away after you finish these today."
Klein glanced at the surrounding utensils, his eyes filled with reluctance and resentment.
If it weren't for the rumors from Falcone that Arkham Asylum was under surveillance and a search warrant was only a matter of time, he wouldn't have been willing to abandon the place he had used for so many years.
The thought of moving to a new location, having to reinstall a lot of equipment, and having to rearrange the pipes and layout, which would take a lot of time and effort, made Klein feel a surge of frustration.
Ultimately, if it weren't for that Batman who appeared out of nowhere targeting Falcone, the asylum's affairs wouldn't have been exposed.
Klein suspected that even the Asian man who planted the bomb in Arkham, and the corrupt cop Falcone introduced to him, were spies sent by Batman.
Previously, when Batman was relentlessly pursuing Falcone, he had said that he should bring fewer people to Arkham recently.
But Marshall not only brought them, he also brought people who were sure to cause trouble!
Klein didn't believe Falcone's story and sent people to investigate Marshall's background, only to find that the man had been seriously injured after the bombing and hadn't woken up yet.
The Asian man has not been found yet. When asked, they say it's only been two days and they need more time to investigate.
As for Batman, there's even less to do; it's as if he sprang from a crack in a rock, impossible to find out.
When he heard people describing him in such fantastical terms, like the Dark Night or a monster, Klein wanted to sneer.
Someone as capable and extremely arrogant as him would never believe that anyone could surpass him.
Especially when your area of expertise overlaps with someone else's.
Batman instills fear in others, using that fear as a weapon to achieve his desired results. Klein, on the other hand, creates fear; he wants to manipulate people's hearts and make everyone fear him.
When it comes to fear, Klein considers himself a unique master.
How could he, who had studied the terrifying gas for so many years, possibly lose to a freak dressed as a bat?
Klein's competitive spirit was so strong that his heart leaped with joy as the factory's light bulbs were shot and shattered one by one.
"It's Batman!"
A caregiver instinctively shouted out, and a dark shadow swept across from above, the rustling of its cloak sounding like a bat flapping its wings.
Someone raised their gun and fired in the direction of the sound, but in the darkness there were only a few brief clangs, and bullets clattered and fell to the ground.
Cries of pain and muffled groans rose and fell, the sound of fists pounding flesh was deep and dull, making the sound of bones shattering seem particularly crisp.
Before the caregiver could adjust to the sudden darkness, a fist the size of a sandbag was at his face.
Soon, the entire factory fell silent.
The caregivers were knocked to the ground, and those forced to work found places to hide, praying to save their lives.
Klein didn't run. He stood there when the light bulb broke, looking around in the darkness with his arms outstretched as if welcoming something.
"I've always wanted to meet you, Batman."
Even when he was roughly pushed down onto the worktable, his face pressed against the cold tiles, Klein did not get angry.
Under duress, he could only hunch over, trying to make his body fit as close as possible to the edge of the workbench, his hands tied behind his back with his elbows bent upwards.
This is a difficult posture to exert force in, and it is extremely oppressive to the person being interrogated.
He could neither see the interrogator's face nor know what was happening around him. His field of vision was mostly occupied by the table, making it difficult even to turn his head to the side.
Batman ignored his words.
"What did you and Falcone do?"
Upon hearing this, Klein, who had previously appeared compliant, became agitated. "What Falcone! How dare someone like him, who only sees money, compare himself to my research!"
"This is my research, mine!"
He became agitated and began to struggle, but to no avail under Batman's restraint, and could not budge his opponent in the slightest.
Batman continued, "What is your research?"
"My research..." Klein chuckled, pleased with the praise. "Speaking of which, my research is quite similar to yours..."
His voice was very low, as if he were making meaningless murmurs.
Batman frowned and lowered his head to listen carefully to what he had to say.
"You know what, what I've been researching..."
His voice was so faint that Batman had to get closer.
Klein's face was pressed against the table, his eyes bulging as he strained to open them.
"—It's fear!"
His bound hands suddenly shot out, and with unprecedented strength and speed, he broke free of his restraints and attacked Batman's face.
The perfume tablet hidden in his sleeve was instantly pressed against Batman's mouth and nose.
The extremely high concentration of fear-inducing gas penetrated deep into the lungs through the respiratory tract, and the brain's central nervous system reacted instantly.
As consciousness gradually blurred, in a daze, I saw pairs of red lights lighting up one after another, and the darkness in front of me seemed to take shape, twisting and struggling to transform into the shape of bats.
Those red dots are their pupils.
The bats swarmed towards him, their red pupils growing ever more intense, vivid and thick, like viscous blood.
The blood flowed incessantly down his palm and between his fingers, and Bruce Wayne couldn't catch it no matter how hard he tried.
Blood mingled with scattered pearls, staining the snow-white pearls crimson.
The dripping blood flowed like a winding snake on the ground, and pearls fell to the ground with a clatter, bouncing and disappearing deeper into the depths.
It was an endless expanse of darkness, devoid of any light...