Party and Umbrella (3)

"So now, Mr. Cobblepot, are you willing to cooperate with my treatment?"

In a ward at Arkham Asylum, Schiller moved a chair and sat down next to Cobblepot's bed. Cobblepot was still staring at the ceiling, but he nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Okay, first question: Was killing Old Edward your first murder?"

For a moment, Cobblepot's splinted arm stiffened, his hand trembled, then clenched. He turned to Schiller, unable to remain silent any longer, and said, "How did you know?"

"Answer my question first."

Cobblepot's Adam's apple bobbed, as if he wanted to give an answer, but in the end he didn't speak and just nodded.

"The Old Godfather told you to do this, didn't he?"

Cobblepot didn't answer; he simply said, "I swear to God I will never reveal anything..."

"Okay, then you don't need to say anything, I'll do it."

"The Old Godfather needed an excuse to attack Young Edward, so he had you kill the Old Edward and frame his nephew."

"By committing murder at the Godfather's son's coming-of-age ceremony, no matter how the Godfather deals with the Edward family afterwards, no one will object."

"No one would have thought that a skinny umbrella boy who was bullied by his colleagues and teased by customers would actually be the Assassin entrusted with such an important task by the Old Godfather."

"If that really was your first time killing someone, all I can say is that you have a real talent for it. The restroom was spotless, and the escape route was well-planned, without running into any other customers..."

Cobblepot turned to stare at Schiller, seemingly stunned by Schiller's assessment. After all, no normal person should look at this from this perspective.

"Alright, that's all in the past." Schiller turned a page of the medical record and said, "Let's explain what's happened recently."

"I advise you to confess and be lenient, because I am not a police officer, and the police may not be able to do anything to you, since you are a minor and a mental patient."

"But I'm different. Right now, I'm probably the only person in all of Gotham who is willing to treat this kind of mental illness and is confident that I can cure it. If you don't say anything, I won't reserve a bed for you."

Cobblepot's lips curled downwards, giving him a sinister look and a maturity beyond his years.

Then he spoke, his voice hoarse and his tone low. "I am indeed one of the Godfather's men. I don't know why he took a liking to me at first sight, but I worked for him and killed Old Edward for him."

"You probably guessed it, what I want to know is..." Schiller said without looking up.

"He sent me to Living Hell, to keep an eye on everyone there. He doesn't trust anyone there. Every corner of Gotham should be under Falcone's rule..."

"So I went to the biggest gang there, the Muni Gang, and became Fish Mooney's subordinate..."

"She didn't care about me, she even hated me, but she was still relatively clear-headed at the time. I was just being ignored, but that's okay, I'm used to it..."

Cobblepot's tone was somewhat numb; it was clear that he couldn't quite get the words out, and the effects of the tranquilizer hadn't completely worn off, so his narration was disjointed.

"Later, I went to work for Kevin, which was a betrayal to Fish, but I had no choice but to do it. Kevin gave me what I wanted..."

Cobblepot's lips trembled, as if he were about to fall into a state of excitement again. He said, "I kept climbing up the ladder there, from a mere technician to the head of purchasing for a restaurant..."

His tone became wistful, as if he were sketching a dreamlike picture. Cobblepot continued, "That restaurant was the kind I always dreamed of—big and luxurious, with mob bosses coming and going, and they were all very polite to the restaurant boss..."

"I know what I want, yes... that's it..."

"Calm down, continue." Schiller's voice shattered Cobblepot's illusions and stopped him from getting any more excited.

Cobblepot swallowed hard, let out a dry breath, and then said, "There, I was appreciated and transferred to oversee the water system..."

"My colleagues were a bunch of idiots, but that didn't matter. It suited me perfectly. I rose through the ranks and even became a minor leader..."

"This feeling is wonderful..." Cobblepot's neck veins bulged, and he began to tremble again. "It's great... I'm starting to boss people around, directing the work, and I have it all under control..."

He quickly stopped, as if on cue, returning to his stiff state, and then said fiercely, "So... I want more power! More territory! No one can stop me!"

"Kevin ... oh... yes, his name is Black Hand Kevin, a very prestigious name. He was the first person to stand in my way..." Cobblepot's tone returned to its low hue.

"After I took control of the entire North District's water system, he felt that I would threaten his position."

"Indeed, that idiot knows nothing, following him will only lead to starvation, but following me is different. Many people in the gang have seen through this, and they have started to support me, and that idiot's position has been shaken..."

"...This can't go on any longer, I know, I know..." Cobblepot said, almost emphasizing each word, "I have to kill him and take his place..."

"I went back to Fish, knelt at her feet, and wept bitterly, telling her that Kevin had forced me into this situation. I promised that if she would help me kill Kevin and gain status, I would use my knowledge and abilities to help her drive all these outsiders out..."

"To gain her trust, I started offering her all sorts of plans, some of which worked, some didn't, but in the end, Fish chose to believe me..."

Cobblepot swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he said, "On a street next to the Living Hell, Fish killed Kevin, and I smoothly took his place..."

"But later, Fish started to go crazy. She would rush into my room while I was sleeping and beat me with a gun butt and a wooden stick..."

Cobblepot's voice began to tremble with a sob as he said, "I knew I had to endure it. My position was still precarious. I couldn't defy her... So I kept silent, and she tormented me like a madwoman, saying I betrayed her, saying everyone betrayed her..."

"I don't know how much time passed." Cobblepot was trembling as he continued, "She started getting more and more insane, and several times I felt like she wanted to kill me. I knew I couldn't let this go on, or the crazed Fish would definitely kill me..."

"So you killed her?" Schiller asked him.

"No...no." Cobblepot shook his head, trembling. He clenched his teeth, which chattered as he seemed lost in thought. "How could I kill someone? I'd be arrested and thrown in jail. I can't go to jail. I've just achieved my position..."

"And just then, someone approached me." Cobblepot paused, then slowly uttered the name: "Sal Maroney."

"Maroney told me that he's had his eye on Living Hell for a long time. He has a grudge against Falcone and has already offended the Old Godfather. He can't let Falcone's plan to transform Gotham succeed, otherwise the Maroni Family will cease to exist..."

"He wanted me to cooperate with him, but I refused. So, he kidnapped my mother just a few days ago..."

"So I suggested to him that we join forces to kill Fish and then frame Evans to undermine the prestige of the Godfather's successor."

"For me, this is killing two birds with one stone: it will free me from Fish's torment and allow me to rescue my mother..."

"He agreed to the plan, and one day, I lured Fish out, and Maroney shot and killed her..."

After he finished speaking, Cobblepot was still trembling, seemingly lost in some memories. Schiller scribbled in his notebook and remained silent for a while. Finally, Cobblepot couldn't hold back any longer and looked at Schiller.

Schiller remained focused on his medical record, offering no comment on the story. Cobblepot, his eyes red-rimmed, said, "Doctor, I'm willing to testify against Maroney. He killed Fish. I can testify in court. Please, you must heal me, I..."

"Stop your nonsense." Schiller said, looking at the medical record without raising his head, "Your story is quite interesting, but you've made a very serious mistake..."

Cobblepot looked at him, tears streaming from his eyes, his face pale and pitiful. Schiller put down the medical record book expressionlessly, looked into his eyes and said, "Pretending to cry won't help. Those who know me know that I'm not a quack, but I'm unscrupulous."

"Your biggest mistake was not researching the backgrounds of the Doctor you would be working with before making this plan..."

"Doctor, I know I don't have any evidence, but I'm the One eyewitness..."

"Okay, if you still insist, then let's start with a recent crime scene."

"Professor Victor and I went to the scene of your mother's kidnapping. According to you, it was Maroney who sent people to kidnap your mother."

"That was indeed a very typical kidnapping scene. Someone broke into your house, drugged your mother with sleeping pills, and then took her away while she was unconscious."

"On the surface, that's how it seems, but Mr. Cobblepot ..." Schiller looked into Cobblepot's eyes and said, "You clearly haven't done any real kidnappings before; the setup of this scene is full of holes."

Cobblepot didn't speak; she just stared at Schiller. Schiller continued, "First of all, in Gotham, almost no one would choose to infiltrate a kidnapping. They would usually just smash down the door, rush in, Burst Fire at all living things, then move the body away, wipe the bloodstains clean, and then say they kidnapped your relative. In reality, your relative's body has already been thrown into the sea."

"Of course, I'm assuming Maroney is a civilized man, but I believe he wouldn't need to resort to infiltration, much less administer sleeping pills. Even if your mother is strong, she couldn't possibly fight off four or five gang thugs. They could simply rush in, knock her unconscious, and drag her away. The sleeping pills would have been completely unnecessary."

"You're trying to reconstruct a perfect chain of evidence in a kidnapping case, but there are too many unnecessary steps involved."

"For example, that fight scene you set up was completely superfluous. Who do you think your mother is? A retired female agent? Someone who would pick up a chair and fight with gangsters who broke in?"

"You've done too much," Schiller concluded. "Trying to recreate the perfect crime scene, trying to create a realistic scenario, even designing a route for the intruders, deliberately leaving traces of their movements on tables and sofas..."

"I can only say that you've watched too many detective dramas. Most cases in reality don't happen like that, and most murderers aren't that professional. Violent intrusion methods and a crime process full of loopholes—that's what most gang kidnapping cases are like."

"Because you are naturally thin, most of the Assassin used were outsmarting, but in fact, for those strong gang members, there was no need to do so much."

"They're not like you, struggling to pick a lock. There's no door in this world that can't be opened with Submachine Gun and a bomb. It's a job that can be done in five minutes. Nobody would spend two hours studying infiltration routes."

"Applying your own criminal mindset to those gangsters is like making a burly Texas Hold'em cowboy wear a dress with lace trim."

"As for the scene you set up..." Schiller picked up the medical record again and said mercilessly, "I can only give you a failing grade."

"Without the pressure from your godfather, the work you completed independently is a complete mess. It's nowhere near as good as the method used to murder Old Edward. I'm starting to suspect that you hired a ghostwriter..."

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DC will adopt a structure similar to the comics, focusing on small-scale events with low-powered combat, where the battles will primarily rely on strategy, with major events taking place in the later stages when the power levels are higher.