"I believe the two cases we are discussing now—the case of Officer Clay unlawfully entering my home and my act of self-defense, as well as all the body-dumping cases my neighbor encountered and Commissioner Gordon presented—may have the same murderer."
The moment Schiller said this, everyone turned to look at him.
"The murderer is Officer Clay."
Clay's eyes widened. Just as he was about to roar, the prosecutor looked at him. There was no suspicion in his gaze, only a warning.
Clay was no fool. He now regarded the prosecutor as the only normal person in this mad world who was like him. If he angered the prosecutor too, then this damned world would truly be beyond saving.
"Mr. Rodriguez, I do not object to you stating your speculation here, but everything must be supported by concrete evidence. Otherwise, Officer Clay may also sue you for defamation."
Schiller shook his head. "What I am about to say will not interfere in any way with your judgment of the case between us. I am merely offering my assessment from a professional perspective."
At the words "professional perspective," the prosecutor hesitated and said nothing more, because he knew Schiller's identity. He was a renowned psychologist.
If Schiller assessed someone from a professional perspective, that in itself constituted factual evidence. No one present was more qualified than Schiller, and there were few such people in the world.
In many difficult-to-determine cases, courts sought professional technical support. Schiller was clearly one of those experts. What he said could greatly influence a jury's judgment and could absolutely serve as evidence.
"Please continue, sir," the prosecutor said.
"Clay suffers from a certain degree of mental derangement," Schiller said. "The nature of his work has given him an excessively strong focus on objectives and intense paranoid tendencies,