PFC Chapter 2290 Gotham Music Chapter (29)
Chapter 2290 Gotham Music Chapter (29)
Chapter 2290 Gotham Music Festival (Twenty-nine)
Just as Bruce and Schiller were confronting each other, the door of the room on the second floor suddenly opened, and a group of strange people wearing various marine life masks walked in. The leader was an old man without a mask, but with a golden trident pattern painted on his forehead.
"Everyone is welcome to board the Atlantis. Before that, we will give you enough time to change clothes and put on masks. Don't worry, the ship will not be far away. When everyone is ready, we will set off on board."
His words left most people a little confused. Was it too late to remember to change clothes and wear masks now?
If you want to keep it anonymous, just let people change their clothes and wear masks before coming in. Now everyone has to use real names, and some people even explain their identities and whereabouts when chatting with others. Isn't wearing a mask now like taking off your pants to fart?
Anyone who dares to accept the challenge must be quite capable. Even if the face is covered by a mask and you can't see it, you can still judge the other person's identity by their voice and body shape, especially since many people in the field are very distinctive.
Christopher's face darkened. He knew that this rule was not in his favor. He was so busy talking to Schiller that he didn't remember the characteristics of others. However, he himself was very distinctive.
On the way to the locker room, everyone realized that this was the organizer's purpose. The identities of all the public figures among the challenged were exposed, but once the ordinary people changed their clothes and put on masks, basically few people could tell them apart.
Schiller was also assigned to a locker room, and when he stopped at the door, he saw a familiar figure among the other challengers hurrying through the corridor.
Schiller recognized the man, but said nothing and turned into the dressing room. It was a very common shopping mall dressing room, with a small space, a small stool, a bar and a mirror. The clothes were placed in the cabinet on the right.
Schiller opened the cabinet door and found a deep red Baroque dress inside. The classic Baroque collar and white shirt were made of thin white silk, and it was worn with a tight red vest at the waist and long shawls on both sides.
Schiller heard exclamations coming from other dressing rooms in the corridor. He guessed that all the challenged persons should have a common clothing theme, which this time should be European classical dresses.
After Schiller changed his clothes and tidied his cloak, he discovered two gold chains on the partition under the wardrobe, one of which was a necklace and the other was a decorative chain connecting a brooch and epaulettes.
This red dress has a naval style except for its color. The upper part of the cloak is tighter, and the waistline of the vest is clean and neat. Combined with the metal decorations, it well neutralizes the shortcomings of Baroque clothing, which is too complicated and lacks a visual center.
After Schiller changed his clothes, he sighed softly, looked in the mirror and said to himself: "Do you think this is a coincidence?"
In Schiller's own vision, he had a pair of unfocused gray eyes in the mirror and a faint smile on the corners of his mouth.
Just like in the movie, Schiller could actually communicate with his other personalities through traditional methods such as mirrors.
Although this can ensure that the main consciousness that is controlling the body does not have to go down, making the body safer, but in the real world, speaking one sentence at a time is obviously not as fast as communicating thoughts in the spiritual world, so they usually only use this method when the body may be in danger.
In short, this is how it was done in the previous life. The method of just leaving the body there and gathering all the personalities in the tower was developed only after the gray fog appeared.
"Of course not, but it will make it easier for us to enjoy the holiday. We deserve it, don't we?"
Schiller sighed and said, "The person who invited me probably never thought that the place he carefully selected would not weaken me, but ..."
“It’s the past that people miss.”
Schiller lowered his head and took out something from the pocket of his original clothes. It looked like a small wine bottle, but it had a mouthpiece at the bottom. It was a small inhalation aerosol bottle.
He picked it up and took a breath, feeling more air flowing into the expanded trachea, but some of the pain and weakness that he remembered vividly had gone away, so the cold air that rushed in only made him feel the coolness in his chest, and the same familiar drowsiness and sluggishness.
Putting the aerosol can back into the pocket of his dress, Schiller straightened his collar, took off his glasses as he pushed the door open and walked out. The dim light in the corridor cast a deep shadow on his thick eyelashes, and then he put on a mask that covered all of his face except for his unfocused gray eyes.
Schiller donned a black mask with octopus tentacles on the lower half, and other invitees who hurried past in the corridor also wore masks of various sea creatures.
They walked in a hurry, constantly touching their gorgeous dresses, saying that they had never seen such smooth material and exquisite design. At the same time, they also found that the masks not only covered their faces, but also made their voices unclear.
Ordinary people found that behind the masks, the voices changed, and the body shapes changed by the different tightness of the dresses, those public figures they were confident they could recognize immediately seemed to be hidden behind impenetrable secrets.
Most people don't have the confidence to believe in their own judgment without solid evidence. They will only feel that someone looks like someone, but if they are in a critical situation and have to be sure of the covered face, vague voice and changed posture, they will just hesitate where they are.
This seems fair, public figures are more visible, but ordinary people don't have conclusive evidence to determine their identities, so the ones who have the most advantage are the smart people who are not public figures.
The staff member wearing the same marine life mask came in again and led everyone in the waiting hall to the boat at the dock. As Schiller followed the crowd and walked quickly through the corridor, he heard a series of hurried footsteps of high heels.
A lady in a Baroque dress walked quickly with Schiller, covered her face with a fan and said, "I think we will need allies in the next game. I am optimistic about you. What do you think?"
Schiller looked ahead and said, "I am not in good health and I am not sure of winning. I am afraid I will disappoint you, ma'am."
"Poor excuse." The other party sighed softly. Her voice became rougher due to the mask, and there was almost no accent. She said, "I can see that you are a smart person. Today's game is not easy. You'd better think about what I said."
After saying that, she quickened her pace and walked in front of Schiller. Schiller held the aerosol in his hand, and his eyes focused the moment he saw her back.
Schiller gently lowered his eyelids, letting all the figures blur as if passing through his eyelashes. Time seemed to have stopped flowing in his ears. The sound of wind flew past his temples. Everything around him became blurred, only the back figure gradually became clear.
But just one second before the focus was completed, a figure in a skirt turned a corner and walked down the stairs. Schiller, who was standing in front of the window on the second floor, took a deep breath of the spray and stood silently by the window without saying a word.
Another figure in a dark green half-leather dress walked behind Schiller. His eyes fell on the aerosol bottle in Schiller's hand. The moment he observed Schiller's eyes through the holes in the mask's eyes, he took a half step back.
Familiar yet unfamiliar, so he took another step back.
Schiller turned his head, then turned to look at him. Judging from his distracted eyes, he didn't seem to see anything. The man in the dark green suit took another step back.
"Please go first." He made a gesture of invitation.
Schiller just lowered his head slightly gloomily, put the aerosol to his mouth, and walked down the stairs while inhaling.
Which one could it be? Someone heard his inner voice asking this question, but at the same time, a louder alarm was reminding him, don't be curious, don't be curious this time, don't be curious again.
Schiller stood in the crowd, indistinguishable from those special people who were stronger or thinner than ordinary people. He did not communicate with anyone and seemed to be drowned in the crowd.
Then they boarded the boat, which was just big enough to hold fifty people. It was not full, and when Schiller walked into the cabin he saw the woman, but unfortunately she was sitting in the last row.
Schiller sat down by the window in the third row from the front. He felt that there was someone sitting behind him, staring at him, but Schiller just stared at the sea quietly.
The ship started, and the cabin was filled with doubtful echoes. Everyone could feel that this journey was different from usual ones. Although they had never participated in such games, they had heard that there were not so many troublesome steps.
Through the cabin window, people could see that what the old supervisor had said before was correct. The cruise ship had not gone far, but was quietly parked in the sea not far from the pier waiting for them.
The staff came in again, and after saying some polite words of welcome, began to introduce the rules and precautions of the game to them.
"You are all decent people, and there is no need for me to emphasize many things repeatedly, but I must reiterate that before leaving this ship and boarding the cruise ship, we will conduct a thorough inspection, and no one is allowed to bring anything on board except the clothes you are wearing."
"If you have something hidden in your clothes, throw it into the sea as soon as possible. We will not pursue this behavior. But if you are found hiding anything on the ship, the sea will not be as broad-minded as it is at this moment."
The old man standing in front kept emphasizing, and as the ship left the dock and headed towards the deep sea, Schiller's face began to become paler and paler, his breathing became longer and heavier, and his eyes became more unfocused.
The old man obviously noticed his abnormality, slowly stopped what he was saying, looked at Schiller and said: "Sir, what's wrong with you? Are you feeling unwell?"
"I have asthma, but I brought medicine." After saying that, Schiller bit the mouthpiece of the aerosol hard, took a deep breath, and then relaxed.
"Good, I hope you're okay, let's continue."
But the man sitting behind Schiller suddenly tightened his grip on the edge of the seat.
The same scene began to replay in Bruce Wayne's mind. Countless bullets hit Schiller's body, creating countless spots of light. He fell from the window with a wild laugh, and the excitement in his eyes could hardly be concealed.
At this moment, he realized a serious problem - Schiller was seasick, but also had a morbid love of pain.
(End of this chapter)