In the long night, Gotham seed to traverse ti. The heavier the snow fell, the deeper the traces of cri would be buried. This is sothing every Gothamite understands. They know even better that so monsters only co out in such a snowstorm, accompanied by the sound of wind passing through the pine forest, dragging the entire city into a shocking hunt. The feast lasts until the mists of dawn rise, but tonight, it’s the Blackest Night.
"Haven’t heard from you in a while, Professor." The convenience store owner, known as the "Deer Hunter," picked up a piece of chamois from nearby, gently wiping the barrel of his gun, thin white mist escaping his mouth.
"No one’s main the in life is murder." Shiller sat by the table, looking at the snowfield dimly lit in the night, "So people walk into the snowy night tonight because they have no other choice."
The Deer Hunter humd lightly: "From the mont you walked in, I noticed your sharp eyes, I won’t lie in front of soone like you. Originally, I should be in the East District right now, sitting by the fireplace, discussing the Christmas nu with my wife. But the snow’s too heavy, you understand?"
"I thought you received an invitation from ’Moriarty’." Shiller looked at him, "Are you not interested?"
"Do you know why I’m called ’Deer Hunter’?" The Deer Hunter paused, held the muzzle upright, and wiped the butt of the shotgun, "Hunters always travel alone. I’m not interested in group hunts. But I’m curious, what kind of person would call himself ’Moriarty,’ and how did you offend him?"
"I said, the night is still long, we can talk slowly." Shiller took a sip of his coffee and then said, "You don’t like the title ’Moriarty’?"
"Who would like it?" The Deer Hunter snorted disdainfully, his hands pausing as if organizing his thoughts, then he spoke, "What’s the point of comparing yourself to a character long created in a novel? Is he trying to say he’s not himself, but a fictional character created by a writer?"
"You’ve never t such people, so you find it unbelievable. There are people in this world who strive with all their might not to be themselves."
"What are they fighting for, then?"
"Desire," Shiller said softly, "fast, fierce desire that belongs only to the mont. Nothing more."
"Hmph, sounds dumber and more shortsighted than a big guy like who only read for two days." With a snap, the shotgun was loaded with a bullet, the crisp sound echoing with the doorbell.
The woman took off her thick down jacket, revealing her hot body clad in only a camisole dress. As if she didn’t see the shotgun in the Deer Hunter’s hand, she smiled familiarly at Shiller.
"Long ti no see, Professor. I saw your car."
"’Nightingale,’ what are you doing here?" Shiller accurately called out the woman’s na, "Gotham University should be off-limits for you."
"I wouldn’t normally co here. But who wouldn’t know soone wants to hunt the famous professor? I’m here to watch the excitent."
The Deer Hunter showed a look of recall, as if rembering who this woman was. Soon, he rembered, raised an eyebrow and said, "You’re not in the skin business anymore?"
"Your news is quite out of touch, Big guy. I was never a prostitute, just a stripper. You might have seen my performance." Nightingale laughed, also walking to sit beside the counter. The strong scent of her perfu invaded his nostrils, and the Deer Hunter waved his hand at her in disgust: "Stay away, don’t interfere with my sense of sll."
She stepped back a few paces, then looked down at the corpse on the ground: "Looks like I ca a bit late, missed the thrilling part."
"You ca at just the right ti." Shiller glanced out the window. His car was parked alone in the snow. The snow was falling harder, almost burying the old car. The streets were deserted, eerily quiet.
Nightingale moved opposite Shiller, also grabbed a tissue and wiped her bloodstained blade: "I took out a sniper on my way here, but there must be more outside. Professor, who exactly have you provoked?"
"Rember the forr director of Arkham Asylum?"
"Depends on how long ago. You better not tell it’s from the Roman tis." Nightingale’s hand halted, then said, "Looks like he’s still persistent."
"Who?" the Deer Hunter asked.
"Hugo Strange. This guy has always been dedicated to capturing all ’abnormal’ people in Gotham to research them in his Psychiatric Hospital. That guy’s quite capable. One of my sisters was captured by him, and it took a lot of effort to get her out."
The doorbell rang again, this ti it was a short figure entering. Looking no bigger than a six or seven-year-old child, yet bearing an adult’s face, he seed to suffer from dwarfism.
"’Dwarf’?"
"It’s ." The other nodded, directly climbing onto a chair to stand there, then asked, "You guys are early. Has it already started?"
He too looked at the body on the ground, then smirked: "Can’t believe soone dared to do such a thing. That ’Moriarty’ is truly insane."
"Hugo Strange, have you heard of him?" Nightingale asked.
"If I hadn’t heard of him, how would I be here?" the Dwarf said, "In fact, I escaped from his hands. I know full well how crazy that guy is."
"Who else?" Shiller asked.
"Moon Blade, Diviner, Minnesota Guitarist, Tattoo Face..." The Dwarf shook his head, "Too many."
Then he turned his head to Shiller and said, "Professor, do you know why Hugo suddenly ca back?"
"Perhaps just to give you a chance for revenge." Shiller said, "Just like we agreed. You get the body, I get the mind."
"Wait," the Deer Hunter spoke up, "So you guys planned this?"
"Yes." Shiller nodded, "Hugo Strange is back, how could he not et his old enemies?"
"I hold no grudge against him," said the Deer Hunter, "But I’m willing to help you. I hate those self-righteous guys."
"You’re not helping , but yourself. Your daughter is autistic, right?" Shiller looked at him and said, "And she’s high-functioning. Hugo is most interested in people like that."
The Deer Hunter’s expression changed. Nightingale added fuel: "My sister is like that. She has trouble taking care of herself, yet she can accurately draw every street in Gotham. Hugo wants to know how her brain works. He used his expertise to make a ss of that place. She’s still living in a psychiatric hospital."
"I get it." said the Deer Hunter. Then he turned to Shiller and asked, "What do you want to do?"
Shiller leaned an elbow on the counter, lightly touching his lips with his bent finger. This reduced the aggressiveness of his words, making it sound like a responsible professional judgnt.
"Hugo is a very arrogant man, especially in his field. He thinks his last defeat was not due to his lack of professionalism, but because I cheated. So this ti, he will definitely try to create an opportunity for ’fair competition’ to prove he’s not inferior to professionally."
"Sounds cliché." Nightingale comnted, "I’m not interested in academia. I just want to chop him up and feed him to the dogs."
"There will be such an opportunity." Shiller’s tone was cold but not heavy, more like a thin layer of ice, with certain breathy sounds like cracks, implicitly extending, giving an uncertainty as to when it might shatter completely. It’s more chilling than a stern command.
"Do you want a fair competition with him?" the Dwarf asked. "Or do you want us to ruin it all? Don’t get wrong; I’d be happy to do so. But if, as you say, letting him lose to you again is indeed the real show."
"Do you really think it will be fair?" Shiller showed a smile. The cold light from the road lamp outside the window illuminated his face, blurring every muscle line, turning the fleeting smile into sothing that was more an illusion than an expression.
"Do you an he’ll tamper with it?"
Shiller shook his head again and said, "Just perceived fairness. He creates an environnt he thinks is perfectly fair, but that’s only for him. In reality, everything is to his advantage."
"Sounds despicable."
"So am I. Otherwise, how do you think I beat him?"
"You showed him the right way." the Dwarf said, "So now he’s using this trick against you. Can you beat him?"
"I don’t need to beat him," Shiller said, "Otherwise, I wouldn’t have called you here. Like I said, I’ll handle the ntal aspects. You need to handle his physical form."
"Then why not just deal with the physical form?" the Deer Hunter asked.
"It’s not that simple." Shiller shook his head, "Hugo Strange has been dead for a long ti. No one knows how he returned from hell. You can only kill his shell. To completely defeat him, you have to overco his spirit."
Shiller reached out, retrieved his badge from the table, put it in his suit pocket, and then said, "His ti is running out. Once Gotham’s sewers freeze, he’ll find a way to locate . Brainiac will send you my last location. It won’t be exact, and you’ll need to find us first."
Shiller looked at the Deer Hunter: "That’s why I ca to find you. You can continuously track a wounded deer in the forest until it collapses. You can use such hunting skills to find the two of us."
"So, you watched that." the Deer Hunter smiled and said, "That was indeed a tense and exciting hunt. And the hunter will always be the winner."
"If it’s just that, wouldn’t it be unnecessary to have so many people?" Nightingale raised an eyebrow and said, "Hugo’s body is not tougher than anyone else’s. Once we find him, no one can withstand a slash."
"Soone will co to protect him." Shiller cast his gaze on the corpse on the ground and said, "Don’t forget, Hugo is always good at manipulation. Many will march ahead willingly for him, so even hobgoblins returning from hell."
"Then let taste the flavor of devils." the Dwarf said, "My only concern is, knowing this is a trap, can you really hold on until we arrive?"
Shiller displayed another smile: "The detective and the professor jumped off a cliff together, who returned in the end?"
"Are you saying Hols will definitely defeat Moriarty?"
"I’m saying that the detective and the professor are both ."
"What about him then?"
"A hapless passerby who died in an accident."
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