PFC Chapter 4537 The Darkest Night (65)
Chapter 4537 The Darkest Night (65)
Chapter 4537 The Darkest Night (Sixty-Five)
Schiller paused for a moment when he heard the name, because in the United States, "Jane Doe" was a pseudonym. Generally, if a woman did not want to appear under her real name, she would refer to herself as "Jane Doe"; sometimes, when the police encountered unclaimed female corpses, they would also use this name to refer to them, somewhat like the Chinese equivalent of "Zhang San Li Si".
There are more than one character with this name, but the one that left the deepest impression on Schiller was "The Unknown Lady," Jane Doe. She was a highly skilled imposter who completed various missions by stealing other people's identities.
However, calling her a professional assassin wouldn't be entirely accurate. Sometimes she worked for others, but other times it was purely out of interest. She thoroughly enjoyed stealing the identities of all sorts of people to satisfy her own whims.
Schiller glanced at the other corpses, still feeling somewhat puzzled. These undead should have been summoned here by the Black Death Emperor, but Jane Doe wasn't an undead, so how did she end up here?
Moreover, Jane Doe must have been unconscious when Schiller injected the clown virus solution into the corpse; otherwise, Schiller would have been able to tell.
Jane Doe clutched her head, gritting her teeth and hissing in pain, then said, "Damn it, I underestimated this junk. I should never have watched it..."
"You didn't find your way here on your own, did you?"
Jane Doe sighed and said, "I got here the same way you did. You can't fool me, you're here to find the 'Blood Tide' too, aren't you?"
Schiller paused. He hadn't heard of the name before, but he could roughly guess that "Blood Tide" referred to Hugo Strange's current state. Jonathan Klein truly lived up to his reputation as Gotham's number one megaphone; only a few hours had passed, yet he had already spread the word far and wide, even giving it a codename.
This unnamed woman is a master; her speed and agility are truly remarkable. After discovering the blood tide might be in Gotham, she immediately came looking for it. This isn't just kicking down a door; it's teleporting into the dragon's lair!
It's not hard to imagine that when she first arrived, her sanity level wasn't that low. However, it plummeted upon seeing the large pile of corpses, and she fainted there.
When Schiller arrived, she was still unconscious. She had put another layer of someone else's skin over her body, making her look and feel exactly like a corpse, so Schiller naturally didn't notice.
"How did you find your way here?" Schiller asked.
“The sea in that photo looks like it’s from Gotham.” Jane Doe sat down to rest.
“I know, what I mean is how can you be sure it’s this area of the sea near the cliff?”
“Intuition,” she replied. “Many people only see the bizarre, twisted limbs, or that feeling of dissipation and expansion. But I think the underlying tone of the blood tide is primitive and savage, representing a kind of evolution of life. This quality can only be found on the edge of a cliff.”
“Alright, I’ve finished. Now, let’s talk about you.” Jane Doe did seem to have some superpowers; she recovered much faster than the average person. She stood up, one hand on her hip, sized up Schiller, and said, “I know you, the renowned Professor Rodriguez. I never expected you wouldn’t be paying attention to this case. It’s not a pleasant feeling to be surpassed, is it?”
"You're already here, do you still think the perpetrator was a human being?"
Jane Doe frowned, and Schiller, seeing her expression, was certain she genuinely seemed to know nothing. He said somewhat helplessly, "You know nothing, yet you dare to go straight to the crime scene; it's a shame you're not a journalist."
“I’m very interested in those hexagonal connective tissues. I want to take some back for my collection. If I’m too late, there won’t be any left.” Jane Doe said nonchalantly, then added with some doubt, “Aren’t they people?”
“You should have done more research,” Schiller said. “Did you tell anyone else you were here?”
"Of course not. Although I don't want to hog all the food, I know that many of them are not tactful and might make a mess of this place. It's better if fewer people know about it."
“That won’t do, madam,” Schiller said. “I can tell you very clearly that this was not man-made. Others will soon find out as well. But theory is no substitute for experience.”
Jane Doe narrowed her eyes, her expression sharp: "You orchestrated all of this, didn't you? What are you planning? To gather them all together and wipe them out in one fell swoop?"
"It's hard to say who's attacking whom," Schiller said with a smile. "Do you have anyone you're corresponding with?"
“I don’t get along with most people, but there are a few. You want me to contact them?”
“That’s right.” Schiller nodded and said, “It’s not just you, I have many other people I need to ask for help from.”
In the study upstairs in the bookstore, Constantine was putting the completed envelopes into the mail. Zatanna came upstairs, saw so many envelopes on his desk, and asked with some confusion, "What happened? Why are you contacting so many people?"
Constantine smiled. Zatanna was somewhat dazed. Constantine hadn't smiled like that in a long time. Not for a good reason, but because in the past, when he smiled like that, it meant he was about to trick someone again.
“Although I’ve been away from the magical world for a long time, there are still some scores to settle. After I left the magical world, quite a few fools came looking for me. The reason I stopped you from killing them wasn’t because I had really reformed.”
“I knew it.” Zatanna said, her eyes wide. “I was wondering why you were so kind, even letting go of those remnants who escaped from the Archmage Tower.”
Constantine handed the stack of letters to Zatanna and said, "I'm being so generous in giving them this lead; they should thank me."
In his office at Gotham Magic Academy, Sivana sat behind his desk, lost in thought. Then he stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of it. Though he didn't move, it didn't seem like hesitation, but rather like he was deep in thought.
After a long while, he began to write a letter, revising the wording for a long time. Finally, he put what he had written into a ball of light, and then took it out the door.
When Jason walked into the bar in the North District, the bartender paused for a moment, then smiled at him and said, "Long time no see, Mr. Todd."
Jason nodded. Then the bartender's expression froze when he saw Harley, who was completely blocked by Jason.
"What's with that expression?" Harley said, somewhat annoyed. "Go mix the drinks."
"What's wrong?" Jason asked, looking at her.
"It's nothing. When I first started my sparkling water brand, there were a few bars that were unwilling to buy my products. It took me quite a bit of effort to convince them."
Jason could roughly imagine how Harley had convinced them, so he didn't pursue the matter further. The two found a booth, ordered two drinks, and chatted while waiting.
The conversation naturally revolved around the topic of blood tide. Harley showered him with praise, but Jason remained unmoved. Even though he had a bit of an adventurous spirit at heart, he wasn't interested in the twisted works of those psychopathic killers.
Soon, a figure walked into the bar. She came over, shook hands with Harley, looked her up and down, and said, "I didn't expect you to be so young, Miss Quinn."
Harley grinned broadly and said, "You're not quite what I expected either. I didn't expect you to be so... gothic. Unknown lady, or should I call you Jane Doe?"
“Either is fine.” Jane Doe sat down and looked at the two of them. “I thought there would be more people coming.”
"What? You think we're not enough?"
"Although we agreed it would be a girls' trip, it's not that simple. Little Queen, have you done any research?"
“I just looked it up.” Harley pulled the book out of her pocket and handed it to Jane Doe, then said, “I suggest you start reading from the second half. Don’t you think the description of this murder case and the blood tide look a bit similar?”
Jane Doe began reading, occasionally taking a sip of her drink. She quickly closed the book and said, “Indeed. While the stylistic details differ slightly, that eerie feeling is the same. This proves it’s not an isolated case, but rather like a… school of thought?”
"Excuse my bluntness, madam, what are your thoughts on the occult?"
“While I possess some extraordinary abilities, I don’t know much about these specialized areas,” Jane Doe shook her head and said. “You mean this might be due to mystical influences?”
Harley nodded and said, "That's right. With such a long time span and such a consistent style, it can only be related to the occult."
“Then we’ll need to find even more people,” Jane Doe sighed. “I have a few friends here. What about you?”
“This is my friend,” Harley said, pointing to Jason. “He’s enough. He’s the librarian at Gotham University.”
Jane Doe immediately became interested, looked Jason up and down, her gaze shifting back and forth between the two of them, and then said, "Okay, I'll go get someone now. I was also thinking of visiting the Gotham University library. See you later."
Constantine took the reply from Zatanna, looked at the seemingly unremarkable letter, and smiled, saying, "Looks like this guy is almost driven mad. Those lunatics must have already found him."
"What do you mean?"
“Blood tide mania,” Constantine said. “Some people are desperate to know where this case took place. They will soon realize it’s related to the occult. All occultists are potentially threatened. My old friends are no exception.”
“They do have some real skills,” Zatanna said. “They should be able to find the right place.”
“Not only will they find it, they might even go and take a look. Because they are greedy and foolish, they think that this blood tide event, like other sudden events in the magical world they have encountered, is full of opportunities despite its challenges.”
Zatanna shook her head and said, "Although I don't know what that blood tide is, if it's really in Gotham, it must be a complete trap."
“Yes.” Constantine turned back, threw the reply on the table, and said, “It’s aimed at those who are curious about forbidden knowledge and take pleasure in madness.”
In the pitch-black space, a faintly glowing orb suddenly appeared. An old man who had been resting with his eyes closed slowly opened them. When he took the orb, his eyes lit up with surprise, but soon a worried expression appeared on his face.
His agent, after overcoming numerous difficulties, finally managed to contact him, and he could finally leave this damned place. However, the danger surrounding the agent was not entirely gone. To escape, he had to help that poor boy.
Seeing that the incident occurred in Gotham, he hesitated. However, the chance to see the light of day again was too precious to miss. Just going to take a look and offer some support would be enough; nothing would happen.
Hidden forces, one after another, converged on Gotham once more, as if they had never heard of the city's infamy and were only filled with greedy desires. Groups of people gathered together, their eyes all fixed on the same spot—the cliffs on the East Side coastline.