Little Bruce went to the other end of the long table to discuss Schiller's injured hand with Barry and Harley. Only then did Schiller smile and say, "One of my other personalities was curious about that shredder. I deeply regret the injuries caused by his reckless operation."
Victor gave a rather disdainful snort, while Anna shook her head. Clearly, they had heard enough of Schiller's nonsense to believe none of it.
"All right, actually, I needed to get hurt, and one of my personality traits is exceptionally unlucky. Whenever he surfaces, all kinds of disasters befall him, so I invited him to try out that magical shredder."
Using one hand, Schiller calmly twirled the noodles on his plate until they formed a perfect spindle around his fork.
"I don't see the point," Anna said, utterly confused. "If you wanted to get hurt, couldn't you just do it yourself?"
"The pain sensation isn't shared between different personality traits."
Anna and Victor exchanged a look. Their expressions plainly said, That works?! and Don't you think that's a little heartless?
At the other end of the long table, Little Bruce had already squeezed himself between Barry and Harley. Barry shifted his chair aside with some distaste and looked at Little Bruce unhappily. "Why aren't you eating? What did you come over here for?"
"Did you see it? That Rodriguez's hand is injured."
Harley's chewing paused, but Barry raised an eyebrow and looked toward Schiller. Though they were far apart, he could still see that one of Schiller's hands was tucked beneath the table.
"What does that prove?" Harley took a sip of oatmeal porridge and said, "Maybe he just doesn't feel like using that hand today. I don't think anything could hurt him."
"But don't you think it's too much of a coincidence?"