Pale Rider trembled all over.
He could no longer tell what he was feeling. He only felt his body convulsing beyond his control, as though something had locked around his neck, making it increasingly difficult to breathe.
He flailed his arms in struggle, then rolled off the bed, smashing his head hard against the wall and knocking over the bedside table.
A nurse rushed in at the sound.
He did not remember what happened afterward. He only saw many hazy halos and heard fragmented whispers. When he woke again, he saw Bruce's blue eyes.
Gotham's daylight was always dim, but Pale Rider could tell it was morning after he struggled to turn his neck.
He tried to climb out of bed, but Bruce hurriedly pressed him back onto it. "What are you doing? Do you know what condition your body is in right now? You almost died!"
"Let go of me!" Pale Rider roared furiously. "I'm going to Natural Forest Land!"
Bruce looked hesitant. "It might be a little late for that now."
"Then I'm going anyway! Those bastards killed Willie! They must have bribed the police! I'm going to find Gordon!! I'm going to shut down Zhalabang Chemical Plant!!!"
Bruce paused slightly before saying, "I told you, it's a little late. The chemical plant..."
"What happened to the chemical plant?"
"The chemical plant changed into another form of existence." Bruce seemed reluctant to continue.
"Another form of existence?" Pale Rider stared at him in confusion, then said angrily, "I don't have time for your jokes!"
"Well, your illness came at a rather unfortunate time." Bruce could only say, "And you don't know Schiller very well."
"What does this have to do with Schiller? Don't tell me this was his plan?"
"No. It's precisely because this wasn't his plan that