"Sit."
Schiller, seated at the head of the table, tilted his head and indicated the seat to his left with his eyes. Though Bruce walked over, his body language remained somewhat stiff. But he was not the only one who was nervous; Greed Schiller sat in the chair to the right, staring fixedly at Bruce.
"What are you doing here?" Greed asked.
"He's here to complain."
"I'm not here to complain."
The two voices rang out at once, followed by Schiller's low laughter.
Bruce turned his head and looked at Schiller seated at the head of the table. The colorful suit and tie were his most recognizable features. This Pathological Schiller seemed to enjoy dressing himself up, though that was hardly surprising.
Bruce had read in books on Criminal Minds that most serial killers possessed a certain degree of narcissism. They admired themselves, loved themselves, believed they possessed unparalleled beauty, and dressed themselves in bright feathers like birds during mating season. This behavior was not limited by gender or age.
But in essence, they were not dressing themselves up. They were disguising traps, waiting for prey to be drawn in by vivid colors and leap defenselessly into their jaws.
All creatures had an instinct to appreciate beauty. Beautiful things made people lower their guard, and the urge to admire beauty could crowd out reason, making traps easier to overlook.
Although Bruce had sounded the alarm ten thousand times in his mind, the moment he first saw Pathological Schiller, he still found himself thinking that the dark blue suit suited him very well. So did the white at his temples.
"All right, you're not here to complain." Pathological agreed with Bruce almost without argument, but that made Bruce's hair stand on end, because Pathological continued, "But when you heard other people