After the thunder, screams were heard on the same floor. A man in a beige plaid shirt with two small tufts of a little mustache started banging on doors frantically. A woman in a gold spaghetti strap dress with ruby earrings hurriedly hid behind the bed. Children who had just turned on the TV in the room looked back in bewilderment. Even the pet dog lowered its bark, letting out a warning growl.
Soon, hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor. The strong bodyguards hired by the Penguin Man filled the entire hallway. Two of them knocked on the door of the room where the screams had come from, but there was no response from inside.
With a "bang", the door was kicked open. A bloodied male corpse fell heavily on the floor at the entrance. A woman sat weakly on the carpet by the bed, her head hanging low, as if she was no longer breathing.
The guard with the gun cautiously entered. The apparently lifeless woman suddenly sprang up, charging at them, wielding a broken piece of glass. The well-trained guard pushed her away with his rifle, then knocked her down. Just as he was about to fire, his teammate stopped him from behind.
"Don't kill her; the Boss needs a statement."
The two knocked the woman out and dragged her out of the room. The body on the floor was also quickly removed. Those who dared to open their doors just a crack to peek out finally stuck their heads out, but upon smelling the strong scent of blood in the corridor, turned pale and shut their doors again.
Natasha had been leaning against the door, listening to the commotion outside. When it quieted down again, she thought aloud, "The body found in the lavatory earlier didn't seem like the Eden Killer's doing. What about this one?"
"First, tell me why you think that body wasn't the Eden Killer's doing," Shiller continued to sit by the window, saying.
"This killer acts with a pattern. Each time, they kill two people, usually a man and a woman, who have some illicit relationship. The copycat played on this pattern to create cases that confuse and mislead. But there was only one body in the lavatory, which clearly doesn't fit the Eden Killer's modus operandi."
"And this case?" Shiller asked again, "From the sounds just now, it seems the victim in this case might also be a single individual."
"No. Even if this case isn't the Eden Killer's doing, it couldn't be the Penguin Man's. The body in the lavatory might have been his enemy or rival, and the threat was enough. To kill another one in such a short time, especially after promising safety, would be utterly self-defeating. He didn't need to do so."
Natasha frowned, clearly trying hard to analyze the current situation. She said, "Now everyone has just been separated not long ago; even if someone wanted to fish in troubled waters, they wouldn't act so quickly. So, I'm still more inclined to think it's the well-prepared Eden Killer. He wouldn't let Penguin Man solve problems so easily, which is why he killed another person in such a short time. Now those upper-class people must be scared to the extreme, and they will no longer be at the Penguin Man's mercy."
"Damn you, Oswald Kolbott!" an old man with a head full of white hair and neatly trimmed beard cursed down the phone, "There's trouble on your territory, yet you lock us up. And now there's a madman among us killing people! You aren't in cahoots with that Eden Killer, are you?! Planning to kill us all off here?!!"
"I don't care about your investigation!" a thin woman with bright red lips paced back and forth in the room, spitting her words at her phone, "You can't guarantee our safety at all. Let us leave immediately!!"
"You think you're that much better than the police?! Hmm?! What did you say when you took my brother away from me? And what was the result?!" a burly man with a thick Russian accent shouted into his phone, "Damn you, Kolbott! My men will be here soon, and I'll have them hack your head off!"
"Mr. Kopot, gathering us all here wasn't a good idea." A refined man in a suit said, "I know you might want to uncover the Eden Killer's truth, but having so many social elites gathered here is too easy for him to strike at us. Now it's just murder, but what if there are bombs or an air assault afterward? We really shouldn't risk it..."
"Where's Batman? How can he allow a killer to run amok in the city for this long? And damn that Kolbott. Hasn't Batman stopped him several times before? What's different this time?"
"Oh my god, we really have to think of something."
"What do you suggest? That Kolbott must be out of his mind!"
"At least the signal hasn't been blocked, we need to get someone to come and rescue us quickly, can't just sit here and wait for death!"
Another flash of lightning lit up every room in the estate. Numerous anxious figures paced in front of the windows, complaining, venting, and wandering.
In the largest room on the top floor, the Penguin Man glared at his subordinate, saying, "No matter what, get something out of that woman's mouth! And then throw her into the Atlantic for me!"
As he was speaking, a man in a jacket knocked on the door and walked in, dark-faced, saying, "Lady Sickin is dead."
"What?!" the Penguin Man looked at him in disbelief.
"According to your private doctor, she overdosed on drugs about 10 minutes ago, showing very obvious symptoms of delirium. The doctor speculates her aggressive behavior was likely due to drug-induced psychosis."
"What the hell are you saying?!" The Penguin Man rushed in front of him, "So that woman got herself high and then killed her husband?! Where did she get the drugs?!"
"Uh, sometimes they bring their own and mix it into the party drinks, taking advantage of the tipsiness and the effect of the drugs to get into the cars..." The man gestured, and the Penguin Man understood his meaning.
The Penguin Man was a typical conservative—not that he didn't deal in drugs, but he didn't use them himself and demanded that his top and mid-level associates absolutely have no history of drug use. So, in some sense, he lacked understanding of how crazy these addicts could become.
Drug use among Gotham's elite didn't count as causing trouble because they had money, could source drugs through legal channels, had private doctors to help control doses, and could regularly engage in various health-care practices to maintain their health as much as possible. Though most would eventually end up overdosing, at least they might live a few more years than the lower-class zombies. This issue was never given much attention.
Even if the Penguin Man already had the power to secretly manipulate Gotham's entire political scene, he couldn't possibly host a party where all drugs were strictly prohibited. Even if he advocated this, he'd never be able to search everyone; not even Wayne had such clout. So the presence of drugs at such parties was unavoidable.
"You walk by the river often, how can you not get wet shoes?" Addicts would inevitably cause a stir one day; those who quietly overdosed themselves to death were considered moral exemplars. And because of the dark streaks running too abundantly through the minds of Gothamites, most addicts would cause quite an uproar.
In the past, Penguin Man was lucky and hadn't encountered such situations. But God won't always be on his side. He also realized the problem—it's highly likely that this was an airheaded junkie who got high and accidentally killed her husband.
Penguin Man felt like he had punched into cotton. He originally thought that this time he could finally have a good showdown with the Eden Killer, but it ended up like this. And the murderer had already become a corpse due to a drug overdose, so obviously, no information could be extracted from her.
Penguin Man let out a long sigh and said to his subordinates, "Go call everyone in the building, tell them the truth, and let them not panic like a turkey before Thanksgiving, and just stay in their rooms obediently. Otherwise, I'll make them regret it!"
The others clearly hadn't anticipated this result either. However, some who knew the couple admitted that they were both junkies and used quite a lot. They previously even caused an accident due to drug-driving and paid a significant amount of bail money to avoid jail.
For Gothamites, this explanation was already sufficient. After all, there are too many people in this city who kill for no reason, so a drug overdose is considered a relatively reasonable excuse.
But many people still felt uneasy. While they thought this might not be the truth of what happened, they also prayed that it was, hoping this was just an accidental, unforeseen incident, and they could stay here safely until dawn, then escape safely.
But obviously, the tranquility wouldn't last long. The floor below Shiller, namely the second floor, was a key area for the bodyguards because it held the most people and was the most likely to have scenarios occur.
Three groups of armed bodyguards patrolled back and forth, leaving no gaps in the defense. Even Natasha would find it difficult to sneak in silently under such circumstances. But when the second group of bodyguards came up the stairs, they suddenly heard some strange noises coming from the room next to the elevator.
The leading bodyguard immediately made a gesture. Two people from behind set up their guns, while the two in front bent forward and moved toward the sound. Just as they were about to reach the door, it suddenly opened.
A boy, all covered in blood, stepped out.
The hand on the trigger shook violently. The leading bodyguard, in shock, looked at this boy and asked, "What's wrong with you? Where are your mom and dad?"
The boy took two more steps forward, fully opened the door, pointed inside the room, and said, "They're all dead."
Ten minutes later, the boy was brought before the Penguin Man. Penguin Man looked at him and asked, "Why did your parents die?"
"I killed them."
"Why did you kill them?!"
"They weren't nice to me. And they were very noisy."
Penguin Man opened his mouth. He realized that this might be another evil genius type of character, but he was really confused, so he asked, "Then how did you… how did you kill them?"
"While they were working, I strangled them from behind. It doesn't take much force." The boy shook his head.
"You, you..."
Penguin Man didn't know what to say. But then he realized something was wrong and said, "Who taught you?"
"What?"
"Who taught you to do that?" Penguin Man squinted at him and said, "A school wouldn't teach you how to kill. No untrained normal person would know this method. Who taught you to kill your parents like that?"
"A friend of mine," said the boy calmly.
"Friend? What's the name?"
"Bibian."
"What?"
"My best friend, Bibian."
Penguin Man felt a bit bewildered because this didn't sound like a human name at all. Sure enough, the next second, the boy took out a small robot toy from his pocket.
"Every time after my parents hit me, I would talk to Bibian. He told me I could kill them. I had tried before but didn't succeed. But here, they had a severe argument, then one went to the computer, and the other to the phone. So I had the opportunity to strike."
Penguin Man snatched the little robot immediately, examining it thoroughly but finding nothing wrong. Furious, he tossed the robot aside. The boy rushed up to retrieve his toy.
In the place where Penguin Man couldn't see, the yellow light in the eyes of the little silver robot called Bibian blinked on and then went out again.