PFC Chapter 2975: The Green Trees Are Thick and the Summer Is Long (9)
Chapter 2975: The Green Trees Are Thick and the Summer Is Long (9)
Chapter 2975: The Green Trees Are Thick and the Summer Is Long (Part )
"I like riddles very much because I can answer them and it makes me stand out from everyone else. They can't answer them, but I can. It feels really good and you will like it too."
"I find that people are always looking for an answer to every question, like a riddle, but many times they can't get that answer, or they don't believe the answer, which is not like a riddle, which is certain, and I feel sad for them."
"If I see a riddle, I know it must have an answer, so I don't have to look at other questions that may not have answers, which makes me feel relaxed and happy."
"But they said I can't keep doing this. One day I'll have to face questions that I can't find answers to. Maybe that's true, but at least now, I can give every riddle a perfect answer."
Schiller was not surprised by these words and the artistry and philosophy contained therein. The crazy people in Gotham are always like this. They are the most reasonable group of crazy people in the world.
Although Schiller didn't want to do this, he still said it.
“What if all the questions you didn’t want to face had the same answer?”
Edward turned to look at him and said, "Impossible. Different riddles have different answers. Those questions can't have only one answer."
"Because riddles are designed to present different answers, but life and society are different. They evolve naturally, just like a river, which eventually flows in one direction."
"what is that?"
"die."
Schiller's profile looked a little gloomy in the light of the movie. He went on to say: "The problems you see in Cobblepot and his son are actually the same problem - how to face death."
"Is death a problem or an answer?" Edward seemed a little confused. He said, "You said it is the answer to all problems, but you also said it is a problem itself."
“When you see it as a question, you don’t want to think of it as an answer, but when you understand that it is an answer, you will create more questions and want to explore and trace it back.”
"Is Cobblepot's death a question or an answer?"
"It was a problem before, maybe now..."
“What will they explore?”
"I don't know, you can go ask them."
"Hasn't he been reading to me?"
Schiller thought about it for a moment before he understood the meaning of the question. He said, "No, you, like him, have a past before you came to this insane asylum."
"Then why can't I remember it?"
"It's just that you don't want to think about it. It may be a painful memory for you, so you instinctively forget it."
"I forgot the answer."
“You just need it to be a question, because if you don’t remember what made you this way, it’ll always be unresolved and you won’t have to find the answer within yourself.”
"You are so funny, can you guess riddles?"
"Where is your riddle book? Is it in the room?"
"In Sissi's room."
"Who is Sissi?"
"It's Cobblepot's mother. She came here to watch a movie called Sissi. She said she was Sissi."
"then who are you?"
"Me? I'm the monster underground. I drew all the words and pictures in the underground mausoleum. If I were locked up there for thousands of years, I would do the same thing."
Schiller had to look up at the movie being shown. Good, the male protagonist was dead, and the female protagonist was looking for clues on the wall with a torch.
"She's so stupid," Edward said. "It's just a scribble. It's not a riddle. She can't find the answer."
"This is a movie, Edward, the director will let her find it."
"But she can't, because there's no pattern." Edward's tone became more urgent. He said, "I've seen it all, I remember it all, the pictures and words on the wall are all doodles, she can't find anything!"
Schiller didn't say anything, but just stared at the screen quietly. Sure enough, not long after, the heroine found the password of the secret room door with her own intelligence and successfully opened the door.
"It's not like that! It's not like that!" Edward stood up and stamped his feet, gritting his teeth and saying, "She's wrong, she's such a fool! This is all a scam! They're all liars!"
"Yes, Edward, this is a movie, this is all fake."
"They are beyond reason!"
"It all depends on the director's arrangement. If the director says the password is correct, then it is correct, because he needs the heroine to go out, so the password is of course correct."
Edward stood there, looking extremely frustrated. He sat back in his seat and sulked. Schiller smiled and said, "You have to find a correct answer to every riddle, but sometimes it's like this. People don't want the correct answer, they just want what they want."
"They wanted to shut me up," Edward said, "because I was the only one who knew the correct answer, and that showed how stupid they were, so they wanted to kill me so no one would know they were stupid."
"No, that just makes them even more stupid," Schiller said. "They can kill you, but they can't kill the real answer. It's out there, unchanging, like the sun."
"But no one knows. They will believe those liars, like this guy." Edward pointed at the screen and said, "The pattern on the wall was doodled, and her answer was baseless, but she ran away."
"Yes, but the director also has to bear the consequences of doing so."
After the movie ended, Edward saw people around him leaving one after another. He rolled his eyes and sighed, saying that this crappy movie wasted another hour of his time.
Edward sat there with his head tilted, as if he understood something, then he turned around, stared at Schiller intently and said, "It's dead."
"what?"
“This movie is dead.”
"To some extent, yes. The box office was not good, and the word of mouth was not very good. People who bought tickets felt that they wasted their money. They could be considered dead."
"So I didn't die, but they will die because they didn't find the right answer," Edward said.
"Yes, I said, everything will die."
Edward fell silent, his hands tightly gripping the armrests, his chest rising and falling slightly, as if breathing had finally become something he could do without thinking.
"Will all such people die?"
"No, some people live well, even better than you. This is not a mistake, Edward. It's just a choice."
"But they should have looked! They should have paid for not looking! They all deserved to die!"
"Do you think Cobblepot deserves to die?"
Edward looked at Schiller angrily.
"His mother was ill, but if we wanted to know what the disease was, we had to do a biopsy. But he chose not to do it. He didn't look for the answer. Do you think he deserved to die?"
Schiller turned to look at him, looked into Edward's eyes and said, "Sissi doesn't want to find the answer either. Should she die?"
Edward's chest was heaving violently, and he hit the handrail beside him with his hands. Brand had come behind the two of them without knowing when, and seemed ready to subdue Edward if he suddenly attacked and hurt others.
"Guessing the answer, knowing the answer, and making the answer public are three different things. The first two represent wisdom, while the latter is just a choice. You choose to make it public, while others choose to conceal it. There is no right or wrong in this."
Edward seemed to lose his temper. He lowered his head and muttered, "So I'm not the only one who knows about that guy. They just don't tell us. Why?"
"You said it, so you're here now."
Edward suddenly began to tremble, he clenched his teeth, as if he was speaking in the snow.
"I discovered a secret hidden by an idiot. I told him I discovered it because it was true, but he wanted to kill me. I thought they were just jealous of my intelligence and that I was the only one who found the answer to the riddle..."
"It's not just you, Edward. It has to be not just you."
"Who else?"
"I know too."
"Impossible, how could you..."
"Something about 'death', right?"
Edward became a little confused, as if he had no idea what to say, as if Schiller's performance overturned everything that had happened before.
"Answer me, is the answer death?"
Edward's lips trembled, his eyes darted left and right, his shoulders locked tighter inward, and he kept swallowing. Then he spoke in a low voice, like a thief.
"You are right, you are right... I am not the only one who knows the answer. They may have guessed it, but they just don't say it, so they are alive and well..."
Edward began to cry, his jaw trembled constantly, causing his teeth to collide with a tiny sound. He curled up in a chair and said, "The answer is death. The answer to the riddle is death..."
"What riddle?"
"His riddle, the principal's riddle. He said if I could answer it, I would be the smartest student. I thought about it for a long time..."
“You answered it.”
"Yes."
"What's the answer?"
"Don't you already know?"
“I want to know how you answered that.”
"Bones." Edward stared at Schiller with red eyes and said, "I see bones."
"What bone?!" Brand's voice suddenly appeared. Edward was so scared that he shrank into his chair and dared not make a sound again.
Schiller glared at Brand with dissatisfaction and said, "If this were a TV show, you would be the first suspect."
"Stop it, I'm a magician, I kill people without leaving any bones behind."
"Maybe you have some perverted fetish."
"This is not considered abnormal in Gotham." Brand also rolled his eyes. He wanted to ask more questions, but when he saw that Edward was in a bad condition, he had to call the nurses and asked them to take Edward away first.
"This poor little unlucky guy must have discovered the crime scene of a serial killer, and that's why he was almost killed." Brand said, looking at Edward's back.
"He just said the principal... If a principal is a serial killer, most of the victims will be students. I'm afraid I have to tell Gordon this."
"But you also know that no one except you can get any clues from such a madman." Brand shook his head and said, "Edward is almost recovered. Don't stimulate him anymore."
"You don't have to ask him to get the answer." Schiller fumbled with his fingers and said, "I'll ask Gordon to check which school Edward attended. There won't be many suspects."
"It looks like this serial killer is going to be unlucky." Brand said gloatingly, "If he knew that you care so much about the students at Gotham University, he might not choose to kill the students."
"People like this won't change their goals easily, and I'm not just looking for students. Edward won't truly recover until this matter is resolved."
"I know." Brand said, "The best way to let yourself go is not to let others go. Do you want him to solve it himself?"
"He has the ability, doesn't he?"
"I don't know. I'm just the pathologist you always forget."
"Believe me, being forgotten by me is a good thing."
"So am I going to be in big trouble now?"
"Yes, get ready, Mr. Brand, you..."
Schiller's movements suddenly froze. At this moment, he recalled where he had seen the logo of the bottle of red wine that Brand brought - it had been placed on the bedside table of a hotel.
"I take that back. It's me who should be prepared."
I can't save any drafts, I farmed in Stardew Valley until I passed out