"Why did you give me a hint?" Bale-Batman asked warily, looking at his reflection in the glass.
"Bleeding and injuries may affect your mind, making it harder for you to speak with me rationally." Schiller's voice seemed to resonate with the air throughout the entire corridor. Bale-Batman felt that it was less a voice than a vibration.
"Who are they?" Bale-Batman stepped closer.
"A global organization."
Bale-Batman felt his heart suddenly leap. He recalled the organization whose name he had first heard in prison—the Shadow Warrior Alliance.
"What did they do to you?" Bale-Batman's dry lips seemed to move on their own. Only after the words left his mouth did the muscles in his face regain sensation and return to his control.
"And what did they do to you?" Schiller countered.
Bale-Batman strode to the glass, pressed a hand against the window, and stared fixedly at Schiller's reflection. "Don't answer a question with another question. Tell me what they did."
"They conduct human experiments."
Schiller's figure vanished again. With one hand against the window, Bale-Batman stared distractedly at the moonlight outside and murmured, "They killed my parents."
A cold gust lifted the hair on Bale-Batman's forehead, jolting him back to his senses and setting him thinking again. He recalled his earlier deduction.
Since the suited Schiller had not given him a hint this time, there probably was nothing particularly troublesome on this floor. Bale-Batman found the Doctor's office as quickly as possible, picked up paper and pen, and began scribbling.
After drawing for quite a while, he looked up and found Schiller's reflection in the opposite window standing behind him again, watching what he had drawn with great interest.
"Want to hear my thoughts?" Bale-Batman said as he wrote. "But only if you stop saying unnecessary things that interfere with