Treatment for Ventriloquist

Ventriloquist sat against the wall.

He held a gun, like a helpless prisoner waiting for the gate to slowly swing open.

Judging by his appearance alone, no one would have guessed that this balding little white man in his fifties or sixties was the infamous Ventriloquist of the underworld. To be honest, with his trembling, frail appearance, he hardly looked like a dangerous man.

The hostages nearby were huddled together, quivering like quails.

They were all employees of the Evidence Bureau. One of the guards lay panting on the floor, half his body stained red with blood.

He had tried to resist, but in front of Ventriloquist, he had been shot through the back of his hand before he could even draw his gun.

"Oh, Mr. Socks..." Ventriloquist slipped a white woolen sock over his left hand. He had created this substitute personality after failing to find his puppet, Scarface.

"Is hurting people really the right thing to do?"

He spoke timidly and cautiously to his left hand:

"Look, he's bleeding."

"That's enough, Ventriloquist. You're far too weak."

His mouth remained tightly shut, yet the voice came from his stomach. The sock-covered hand opened and closed the sock, making it seem as if the sock itself were speaking. The sight was indescribably eerie and bizarre.

"What an idiot. Without hostages, what will we use to trade for Scarface?"

The sock on his left hand shifted warily beside him like an aggressive venomous snake. "Even kindness has to be shown at the right time. That bastard brought the bullet on himself. As long as they cooperate, I won't hurt them. Right?"

"But, but..."

"Shut up! Stop wasting your energy on this pointless nonsense. Batman could charge in at any moment..."

Ventriloquist began to whimper in grievance, but he still didn't dare argue with Mr. Socks. Instead, he actually began apologizing pitifully to the wounded guard.

"Sorry for the trouble..."

Bang, bang, bang!

The violent knocking interrupted him.

Ventriloquist immediately aimed his gun at the hostages, his voice switching to Mr. Socks' low, dark tone, filled with frenzied brutality like a beast whose territory had been invaded. "I told you, if you dare come in, I'll shoot straight through—"

"Knock knock, this is Batman."

Every hair on Arnold's body stood on end. He knew that voice far too well. It really was Batman—but something about the situation today was strange.

As everyone knew, Batman never used the front door. He never knocked, either.

Mr. Socks tensed every muscle in his body. He crawled along the floor and raised the gun, ready to attack. As long as Batman dared enter, bullets would lick at his—

"Hurry up and open the door. Let Bat-daddy pour the sweet milk of justice into you~"

"???"

The nonsense that came from the usually serious Batman's mouth caused Ventriloquist's brain to freeze for a moment. It also gave Chen Tao the chance to push the door open without suffering any of the attack that should have followed.

"Batman, you..." After his brief daze, Ventriloquist immediately reacted.

But the opportunity was fleeting, my friend.

"Scarface!"

The puppet blocked the muzzle of his gun, pinning his finger in place so firmly that he could no longer pull the trigger.

"Bastard, let go of me at once!"

A completely new voice rang out. If Mr. Socks' voice had merely belonged to a deranged thug, then this new voice was like the incarnation of darkness—the incarnation of Ventriloquist's inner darkness!

Endless malice almost seemed to melt into ink and drip onto the floor.

Ventriloquist stood up from the floor. The timid, cowardly little old man from before had vanished without a trace. He puffed out his chest and flexed his latissimus muscles, as if a devil had taken up residence in that short body.

His mouth remained tightly closed. The sock on his left hand opened and closed, its voice trembling and echoing through the cramped space:

"Give Mr. Scarface back to us—"

"No, don't do this. I've talked to Batman."

Ventriloquist suddenly froze.

That voice had come from Scarface.

Chen Tao kept his mouth tightly shut. You're not the only one who can do ventriloquism.

As an actor, imitating others was a basic skill. That naturally included their voices.

Ventriloquist should have shot through his head the moment they first met, but he had failed to do so—

Then! From here on, this was his stage.

He had never intended to treat Ventriloquist by normal means.

Mr. Socks sensed danger and loudly ordered Arnold to fire.

"Don't shoot. I've talked to Batman. You're a good person. You only did bad things before because I forced you to, right?"

"No, no, those words weren't from me, Scarface. I want you to shoot. Shoot!"

"That's right. Listen to Scarface and shoot—"

"No, I order you as Scarface. You have to listen to the Bat—"

"Stop—"

Four voices became tangled together. Chen Tao's ventriloquism and Ventriloquist's ventriloquism fought fiercely for control of the Scarface puppet.

This was Ventriloquist's most fatal weakness: his split personalities brought suspicion and doubt. Chen Tao wasn't fooled by his ventriloquist tricks. He imitated his enemy's behavioral patterns, making his imitation of Scarface's voice alternate with the real Scarface's voice. Ventriloquist was completely confused.

Amid the fierce argument, Chen Tao opened his other hand and unzipped his shoulder bag. It was filled with hand puppets—toys that could be controlled by inserting one's hand inside—and every kind of puppet was represented. Arnold's gaze was drawn to it, and he subconsciously asked:

"What does this mean?"

Chen Tao suddenly thrust out his hand.

"Damn it!"

In the blink of an eye, Ventriloquist's gun sprang toward Chen Tao's chin.

But it was still too late. Almost simultaneously, Scarface's voice gave Ventriloquist an opposing command.

By the time Ventriloquist had untangled his brain, which had become a complete mess, the sock was already in Chen Tao's hand.

Weapons disarmed.

?

"No! Mr. Socks!" Ventriloquist let out a heaven-shaking scream.

"What are you going to do to Mr. Socks?"

Without the help of the sock personality, he had returned to being an ordinary little old man.

Chen Tao ignored him and kicked the pitiful little old man into the corner. "You're safe now. Get out."

"Eek—"

The hostages looked at one another, then screamed in unison and scrambled out. Even the guard who had been lying motionless on the floor somehow crawled back to his feet and ran faster than a rabbit, screaming while showing off his injured hand.

"..."

Chen Tao maintained his Batman-like blank expression until the hall was completely empty. Then he walked over to Ventriloquist, expressionless, raised the stinking sock, and tore it to shreds right in front of him...

"No!!!!"

Ventriloquist lunged forward like a man whose parents had just died and grabbed the sock's remains. "Wahhh! No! Socks! How am I supposed to live without you—Socks! Socks, take me with you! Take me with you, Socks—"

But before he could finish crying, Chen Tao grabbed him off the floor and slapped him twice across the face. "Stop crying. Look, what's this?"

"Scarface!"

Arnold had just tried to lunge forward when, with a sharp crack, Chen Tao twisted the Scarface puppet into a pretzel right in front of him, then stomped it to pieces on the floor.

"Aaaaaaaah! Owwwwwwww!"

"Get up!" Chen Tao hauled the little old man, who was about to start wailing again, off the floor. He slapped him left and right until stars danced before his eyes, beating the episode right back into him before it could even begin.

After forcibly distracting him through physical means, Chen Tao threw him onto the shoulder bag filled with puppets. "Forget those old puppets. Try some new ones. There are dozens here. Pick whichever one you like!"

Ventriloquist was dazed by the Personality Correction Fist. His eyes were vacant, and he still hadn't recovered from the shock of losing two personalities in succession.

In a daze, Ventriloquist picked up a puppet. The next second, a new voice emerged from his stomach...

Because of his extremely severe dissociative identity disorder, Ventriloquist tended to create evil alternate personalities. Essentially, these alternate personalities were all "protectors," created to protect his weak core personality, Arnold.

But in the brief span of a few seconds just now, both of his protector personalities had been violently destroyed by Chen Tao.

Therefore, he was currently in a period of extreme fear, without a protector personality to rely on.

Under normal circumstances, Ventriloquist would instinctively search for an object, give it a personified form, then place it on his hand and create a new personality to protect himself—just as he had previously created the evil personality "Mr. Socks" with an ordinary wool sock.

But... what would happen if someone suddenly stuffed dozens of toys into his hands at a time like this?

"Waaah, that's chapter two, baa!"