Scott froze when he heard that, then lowered his voice as well. "Are you insane? You'll die!"
As his grip tightened, Schiller found it hard to breathe. He said haltingly, "So... now you have to make a choice. Gamble that your hands, shaking even worse than mine, won't hit my trachea or artery when you drive that sharp military knife into my neck..."
"You're not afraid I'll actually kill you?!" Scott asked through clenched teeth.
"You won't do that. As an experienced agent, you know better than I do, cough cough..." Schiller caught his breath again, then continued, "He'll try to talk to you from across the room precisely because your knife is at my throat. If I die, all you can do is pray that crocodile monster isn't hungry right now."
Scott's fingers were visibly trembling. After subduing all the agents around him, the terrifying monster had begun walking toward him.
Though he was an elite agent with many years of service, all his opponents over those years had merely been vicious or cunning ordinary people, not monsters that defied all common sense.
Even in a city like Gotham, Killer Croc's appearance was intimidating enough. The fact that he could not even find work as a gang enforcer proved that even Gothamites, who were not picky about such things, found Killer Croc's looks a little too ahead of their time.
As the towering monster approached him, Scott took several deep breaths, forcing his mind to calm down in hopes that he could control his arm and stop it from shaking.
Just as Schiller had said, a hostage was only valuable while alive. One twitch of his hand now could mean two corpses.
"If you don't have experience with this, do exactly as I say." Schiller swallowed and said in