Wilson, of course, accepted the assignment.
He didn't wait long before he saw a black-haired lady with an indifferent expression climbed up to the roof of the cafeteria. He looked at the dust on the "Miss Rita"'s suit and skirt, and couldn't help but glance at Mr. Warden again.
The dark-haired young man was completely unaware of what he wanted to express, and smiled.
Wilson could only climb into the helicopter in frustration. Anyway, he is the pilot who usually climbs up and down, which is not difficult for him-but there may be some prisoners in the future, which makes him very curious. The prisoners who need to be transferred by helicopter are handcuffed How to climb on the roof apron
While Wilson was thinking wildly, that Miss Rita also got into the helicopter and fastened her seat belt under his guidance.
The rotor of the helicopter changed from slow to fast, and the violent airflow pressed to the surroundings. The cheap helicopter lifted off the ground, which seemed to shake the whole cafeteria slightly.
There was an exclamation from the courtyard.
The helicopter wobbled into the sky, Zhang Dianyu raised a hand to build a shade, watching it disappear into the sky.
After all, this is currently the prison's most valuable asset. However, this pilot seems to be quite reliable, so it should not be a big problem.
Zhang Dianyu climbed down from the roof of the cafeteria and returned to the warden's office. While waiting for the plane to arrive at Alcatraz, he sorted out the documents at hand and remembered that he still had an appointment for an interview tomorrow.
That is, the recommended former professor of psychology named Jonathan Klein.
Zhang Dianyu thought about it, and the name was strangely familiar.
The most recent name always made him feel as if he had heard it somewhere.
Bill came out of the room at some point, tiptoed to glance at the documents in his hand, and asked seriously, "Do you really want to hire him?"
Zhang Dianyu was suddenly wary: "What's wrong with him? Wait—is there something wrong with that Sam Wilson just now?"
Bill stared at Zhang Dianyu's face, and Zhang Dianyu looked at him.
"You're not a human being, so you shouldn't have such a poor memory." Bill said suspiciously, "You should ask Stark to make an appointment for an IQ test for you. I don't know what went wrong."
Zhang Dianyu: "?"
It doesn't matter whether he is human or not, but if this bill is human, it may be difficult to grow up safely.
"Sam Wilson, nicknamed 'The Falcon', is a member of the Reserve Avengers under investigation; Jonathan Crane, nicknamed 'Scarecrow'—"
Zhang Dianyu spouted out a mouthful of tea.
"What? A scarecrow? Which scarecrow?" He grabbed his resume and flipped through it, "...couldn't it be the psychopath in Gotham who put poison gas everywhere and made people scream and go crazy?"
Bill nodded solemnly: "He is right."
Zhang Dianyu was silent for a while: "Is he here to give away the head?"
"Better to reveal his identity, it may disturb the prison first." Bill replied solemnly, "Prison riots will cause funds to be broken, which is very dangerous for you. In your short career as warden, three points away One of the deficit times is only one percent—”
Zhang Dianyu interrupted him: "Okay, you don't need to say any more."
This scarecrow can't stay, at least give him a head blow.
But if he hasn't revealed his identity, Zhang Dianyu has no reason to detain him directly. But no matter from which point of view, he should expose the scarecrow now. Since he has his eye on this place, sooner or later he will come over to make trouble.
It's not a good thing that fear gas appears in prison.
Hundreds of big men crowded into a small space and screamed - one can imagine the consequences.
Zhang Dianyu pondered for a moment: "Why don't we detain him and illegally detain him for a while - ask Batman to scare him and extract a confession?"
"No, law." Bill repeated word for word, "No, that will cause you to be judged as a failure sample—to explain it from a human point of view, it is death." Then he looked at Zhang Dianyu and added another sentence , "Judging from the current tense situation, it would be good if Batman didn't cut off contact with you. It is impossible to come over to help."
"Unless he really wants to arrest the criminal." Zhang Dianyu grumbled, "—and of course he wants to."
Still, he wasn't really sure.
But the Scarecrow is here, and he must not be let back.
"So, unless he reveals his identity, we have nothing to do with him." Zhang Dianyu thought for a while, "Then let him reveal his identity."
"Are you going to let him carry out his plans here? But a prison riot will make—"
Zhang Dianyu interrupted Bill: "Yes, I want him to use fear gas, but not everyone in the prison."
He looked at the bill and slowly raised the corners of his mouth.
"You have no fear, do you?"
Bill nodded: "But... why would he release poison gas on me?"
Zhang Dianyu fell into deep thought.
Even a mentally ill criminal would not ruin his plan for a little boy without a name. Needless to say, the bill makes sense. Even if the scarecrow was shut up with him and stared at him, the other party might not make a move.
The two looked at each other for a moment, and the boy slowly opened his mouth: "But for you, he has a reason for doing this."
Zhang Dianyu: "..."
He had already had a hunch what the bill was going to say. He is the warden of this prison, and if the Scarecrow wants to cause trouble in the prison, it is only logical that he will try to take him down first.
"No." Zhang Dianyu refused without hesitation. He had had enough of the feeling that his body was out of control. He still remembered the scene where the warden hung up and ran naked along the road. That would be his eternal black history.
To be honest, he didn't know what he was afraid of—but this question always made people feel very complicated, wanting to know and resisting.
"You're not human either, and theoretically, this approach could work for you," Bill said.
Zhang Dianyu was silent.
Although the scarecrow likes to torture others psychologically, in fact the poison gas still acts on the physiological reaction, creating illusions by changing human hormones or neurotransmission, and awakening fear in the brain.
The "vehicle" used by the act, that is, the body of the boy, is no different from that of an ordinary human being—but he has nothing to fear, and the effect of the poison gas on him may only be a rapid heartbeat.
But Zhang Dianyu is different.
Although Bill professes that he is not human, to himself, he has all the emotions of a human being, including fear. He can't guarantee that he can make this bait well, and he still doesn't know who is giving the head.
Bill seemed to guess what was on his mind.
"Are you worried that you will also feel fear?" Zhan Dianyu stared at Zhang Dianyu with azure eyes, which made him feel strangely irritated.
"Enough." Zhang Dianyu said with a straight face, "I won't use myself as bait."
"But I can help you see what your fear is." Bill tilted his head slightly. "I can affect your brain in the same way—but not while you're awake."
Zhang Dianyu stared at Bill silently.
But this seems to be the only way - if you can be sure that you don't have the emotion of fear, then you can safely fish for law enforcement.
But who wants to prove that they don't understand fear
Zhang Dianyu's gaze met the bill. There was no trace of doubt in the boy's blue pupils, as if what he was doing now was a matter of course.
He apparently never imagined that his "creation" wanted to be human.
Even he himself didn't know why he wanted Zhang Dianyu to "live". Only life pursues continuation, and Bill never cared whether he would "die".
Nevertheless, he wanted Zhang Dianyu to "live".
Zhang Dianyu crossed his arms across his chest: "Then—we offer three chapters of the law. When I'm having a 'nightmare', no one is allowed to come in."
His reputation can no longer be victimized.
Bill nodded kindly.
"If I'm sleepwalking," Zhang Dianyu was silent for a moment, "just pull me back and press me back—if I'm still beating someone 'in my dream', you can just let me beat you up."
Bill seemed a little dazed, not knowing how to answer. After a long time, a sentence came out with difficulty: "But this carrier will feel pain."
"Isn't that better?" Zhang Dianyu replied seriously.
Bill seemed aggrieved and nodded.
Zhang Dianyu paused for a moment: "Just kidding."
"Really?" Bill wondered, "But that's not funny at all?"
Zhang Dianyu: "..." He felt that he should really sleepwalk and beat up the bill.
Since dealing with the scarecrow was obviously imminent, Zhang Dianyu didn't pay attention to Rita's movements in Alcatraz, and simply went back to the bedroom and lay down, preparing for this "nightmare".
Bill stood by his bed, looking down at him.
A few minutes later, the boy asked suspiciously: "Why don't you sleep? I can't affect your brain if you don't sleep."
"I remember you said that you can't do anything to me." Zhang Dianyu stared at the bill, "You still have reservations?"
Bill shook his head: "When you are asleep, it is equivalent to losing consciousness. During that time, your... thinking does not belong to this body."
Zhang Dianyu didn't know why the bill stopped for a while, which made people have some doubts.
But he could understand what the bill meant—whenever his "primary interface," the warden's body, lost consciousness, his mind shifted to a second character, making sure he was online.
But it never occurred to him to sleep—could he theoretically not have to
The bill seemed to have no meaning of explanation, but just urged him to fall asleep quickly.
Zhang Dianyu: "..."
He looked at the boy, and the boy looked at him with wide blue eyes.
It would be strange for someone to be able to fall asleep staring at him like this.
Bill hesitated for a moment, helped Zhang Dianyu pull up the quilt, reached out and patted his chest lightly.
Zhang Dianyu: "..."
Before he knew it, he seemed to be made a father by Bill again.
He didn't know when he entered the dreamland. When he was in a dream, he could still remember what happened before—and thus remembered something that he had never dreamed.
The sun was shining brightly, he stepped on the hot desert, and everything he looked at was sand.
Zhang Dianyu was a little puzzled. Could it be that what he was afraid of was getting lost in the desert and dying of thirst? But he has never left the prison, and he never thought about going to the desert. How could he be afraid of this place
He took a foot out of the sand in a daze, and the hot fine sand poured into his shoe, which felt extremely uncomfortable.
His skin was aching from the blazing sun, Zhang Dianyu touched his chest in bewilderment.
He felt nothing.
Maybe the desert meant his emotions were barren, maybe Bill was right that they were the same—not human, not human, not capable of experiencing these complex emotions.
Zhang Dianyu inexplicably felt a little bitter.
He looked around, and there seemed to be a figure so small that he could only see a black spot in the distance, moving slowly in the desert.
Zhang Dianyu felt a little curious, and wanted to get closer to see who was there—or what.
He barely pulled out a leg from the desert, and before he was about to fall, a clear and crisp sound came from his ear.
The voice seemed to be inserted into his mind suddenly, without source or direction.
Zhang Dianyu froze for a moment, the scene seemed familiar.
Immediately afterwards, the same crisp sound came one after another, and the sound became more and more dense, almost connected together, as if pouring gold coins into a money bag that would never be full.
Zhang Dianyu's face became darker and darker.