Snowy Night Campfire (2)

When they entered the Cobblepot House, Victor and Schiller were both taken aback; it looked as if it had just been heavily bombed.

Victor looked down at the pool of blood in the hall and shouted, "Oswald!! Are you there? Oswald Cobblepot!... Cobblepot!"

Schiller put his arm around his shoulder and pointed to the bloodstain, saying, "In the washroom."

Victor strode across the hall and rushed into the bathroom, where he saw Cobblepot lying pale-faced in the corner, covered in blood.

He strode inside quickly, shook Cobblepot, and Victor looked down to see him. Cobblepot had a deep, bone-revealing scar on his left shoulder and upper arm, and was covered in other injuries. He was clutching a cell phone in his right hand, clearly the one that had just called Victor.

"What exactly happened? Where is your mother? Where is Mrs. Cobblepot?"

Upon hearing the word "mother," Cobblepot's head moved, and a sound like a CD skipping came from his throat, "Second floor... second floor bedroom..."

"You stay here and watch him, I'll go up and check on him."

As he spoke, Schiller walked from the bathroom door to the second floor, through a somewhat narrow corridor, and then up the creaking stairs. The second floor had an even stronger smell of blood.

Schiller went up to the bedroom on the second floor. The frail old Mrs. Cobblepot lay on the edge of the bed, One Hand resting on the sheet. A large amount of blood had stained most of the sheet. Schiller went over and found that she must have cut her wrists about an hour earlier.

However, by this time, the wound had stopped bleeding. Schiller leaned closer to Mrs. Cobblepot's arm and examined it. The wound was deep, but it was cut in the wrong place, and the blood had already congealed. He then pressed on Mrs. Cobblepot's chest and found that her heartbeat and breathing were still strong.

Clearly, Cobblepot's mother wanted to commit suicide by cutting her wrists. She was determined, but failed due to a lack of common sense. Schiller took out a syringe and injected it into Mrs. Cobblepot. Seeing that the healing effect began to take hold, Schiller stood up and went downstairs.

Victor also had the healing injection Schiller had given him. Just as Schiller entered the bathroom, Victor put the syringe away, and soon Cobblepot regained consciousness.

Victor squatted down beside him, sighed, and said, "What exactly happened? Why didn't you call me sooner?"

Cobblepot stared blankly at the ceiling. Schiller stood beside him, the shadow cast by the lamplight falling on Cobblepot. He turned his eyes to Schiller, Schiller said to him, "Your mother is alright."

Cobblepot closed his eyes and turned his head to the side, his face showing a look of despair and exhaustion that shouldn't be on a child of his age. Victor sighed, ignoring the bloodstains on Cobblepot's body, and helped him up from the ground, then to the sofa in the living room.

Although Victor was just a scholar, Cobblepot was clearly much thinner. Victor easily helped him onto the sofa. Looking at Cobblepot's disheveled state, Victor stood beside the sofa and said to Schiller, "Watch him, I'll go find him a coat."

Schiller sat down on the other side of the sofa and straightened his sleeves. Cobblepot's expression remained somewhat blank, even his usual gloom was gone.

When Victor came downstairs with a coat and draped it over Cobblepot, Schiller took out his phone and called Gordon. Soon, Gordon walked in, still damp and chilly from the cold wind. Upon seeing the situation in the old house, he covered his forehead and said, "Professor Schiller, what are you up to now? What have you done now???"

Ten minutes later, the men helped Cobblepot and Mrs. Cobblepot into the car and took them to the hospital.

Thanks to Schiller for obtaining the Lizard Serum injection from Dr. Connors, Mrs. Cobblepot was not in life-threatening condition when she arrived at the hospital, but she had lost a lot of blood and needed to be hospitalized for observation. The younger Cobblepot, however, had almost finished healing and did not require treatment.

So they returned to Cobblepot's old house. After all that commotion, they were all soaked to the bone. It was already past 3 a. m., and the Gotham night sky was pitch black, with the rain pouring down harder and harder.

"It's a bit cold, how about a cup of hot tea?"

Two minutes later, Victor stood in the messy kitchen, finally managing to pull a kettle out of a cabinet. Facing the stove, which was piled high with clutter, he was at a loss as to where to start.

Suddenly, he heard some noise behind him. Victor turned around and saw Cobblepot stepping over the clutter piled up at the kitchen doorway and walking in, saying, "I'll boil some water."

Cobblepot kept his head down, Victor couldn't see his expression. He handed Cobblepot the water bottle and said, "Go ahead."

Schiller stopped sitting on the sofa and squatted down on the floor with great interest, looking at the overturned clutter. He gently wiped the dust off the floor with his finger and said, "It seems that these things were unearthed at different times."

"These bloodstains..." Schiller looked around and saw that there were about four or five bloodstains in the hall, but they were all small and looked like they had been accidentally dripped. The One truly frightening large amount of blood was the pool of blood they had seen in the hall when they entered, which was still wet.

"Has it gotten worse again?" Schiller muttered to himself. Just as he was inspecting the scene, the hot water was ready, and Cobblepot came over carrying a tray.

It was a patterned wooden tray, with exquisite ceramic cups on it, but it looked somewhat comical against his slightly worn clothes and thin frame.

Victor took the cup from him, then picked one up and handed it to Schiller. Schiller glanced at the cup; it only contained water. After putting down the tray, Cobblepot awkwardly rubbed the hem of his shirt and said, "There's no more tea. I haven't gone out to buy any lately."

Victor a sip of hot water, waved for Cobblepot to sit down, and asked with great concern, "What exactly happened? Didn't you say that your mother was feeling much better after taking her medicine?"

Cobblepot regained some of his senses. He touched the handle of the cup, which had a chip in it. As Cobblepot fingers traced that spot, he pursed his lips, gave a bitter smile, and said, "... It is indeed much better."

Schiller took a sip of hot water and felt a warm current flow through his chest. When Cobblepot looked at him, Schiller was also looking at Cobblepot, and that calm and powerful gaze made Cobblepot relax a lot.

"After I was discharged from the hospital, I went back to work in Living Hell. Most of Gotham was frozen, and the underground of Living Hell was no exception."

"This damaged the local water system, and in order to ensure a normal water supply, I had to lead the former gang members to repair it."

"I did a pretty good job. Although I don't understand some of the core components, I can still fix the pipes and wiring..."

"Everyone needs water, and everyone is counting on me. Soon, I gained a great reputation in the local gangs and made a lot of money."

"Because the underground of the Living Hell is equipped with a very advanced water purification system, the tap water system here is restored faster than in other places. Therefore, we can sell water to residents in the surrounding areas much sooner..."

Cobblepot spoke calmly as he recounted the story, but Victor stared at Cobblepot with wide eyes and said, "I had no idea you were capable of being involved in gangs and doing business."

"Of course he had it, otherwise he wouldn't have survived," Schiller said, taking another sip of water.

"I led the gangsters to work, made them money, and they all trusted me. I was doing better and better, so..."

Cobblepot looked up at Schiller, Schiller said, "Are you doubting me? But let me tell you, the medication I prescribed for your mother is the right one."

Cobblepot shook his head and said, "No, I'm not doubting the drugs. In fact, they work very well, especially when my mother is in a state of agitation."

"After taking those medications for a while, she started to become more and more lucid. One night, we sat on the edge of the bed and talked about the past. She could remember fragments of my childhood. We hadn't talked like that in a long time."

"Then what's going on? Victor asked doubtfully: "Now that her condition has improved, how can she still..."

Cobblepot's body began to tremble, his eyes reddened, and his voice trembled. "It's because she woke up, it's because..."

He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and said, "Before the medication, she was quite insane."

"When she started going crazy, I couldn't handle her at all. I could only wait for her to get tired and drink water. But as the symptoms got worse, she started attacking me..."

Victor looked up at the dried bloodstains in the room. Cobblepot clenched his fists, his fingers intertwined, and said, "At first, she just hit me with something. My ear was cut and bled a little..."

"Then, she started slashing wildly with the knife. I was afraid she would hurt herself, so I had to try to take the knife away..."

"She slashed my arms and legs, but thankfully the wounds weren't deep. I bandaged myself up and then hid the blood-stained clothes."

"But..." Cobblepot's voice trembled more and more violently, and Victor could hear a hint of a sob in it.

"After the medication started, I tried my best to clean up the bloodstains in the house, but I was very busy at the time. There were too many things waiting for me, too many people were looking to me, and I had to earn money to buy medicine. I didn't have time to treat my injuries. When I was hurriedly cleaning up the house, some bloodstains were buried under the mess of clutter, and I didn't notice them."

"After my mother regained consciousness, one night when I was sleeping, she came into my bedroom. She saw that one of my arms was outside the blanket and asked me where those injuries came from..."

I didn't dare tell her.

"When I came home tonight, I found the house in this state. She had dug up the bloodstains on the floor and found the blood-stained clothes. I smelled a strong stench of blood. When I went upstairs, I found out... my mother had committed suicide by cutting her wrists."

Cobblepot's lips trembled so much he couldn't utter a word, tears streaming down his face. Victor's hand, gripping the cup, also trembled slightly. He heard Cobblepot continue, "Before you woke me, my last memory was walking into the bedroom and seeing lots of blood..."

"Then why were you in the first-floor restroom?"

"He must be having an attack too," Schiller told Victor. "The wound on his shoulder was probably self-inflicted."

"He saw the image of his mother committing suicide, couldn't handle the shock, staggered downstairs, slashed himself with the kitchen knife, splattering blood in the living room, then passed the sofa and ran into the bathroom..."

"But thankfully..." Schiller looked at Cobblepot, "You still have a sliver of sanity left, enough to make you take out your phone and call Victor."