Mr. Foggs walked into the warden's office and alarmed Zhang Dianyu who was in deep thought.
He subconsciously looked up at the bald old warden. The other party was just like him when he hung up the phone, circling slowly and in a circle in the office according to the established route.
If this situation is exposed, it will obviously arouse the suspicion of Chaoying. And Zhang Dianyu is also very clear that there have always been undercover agents sent by various parties in his prison.
But now that there is a hole in the wall of the warden's office, it is obviously becoming less feasible for the old warden to let the wind out in the office.
Zhang Dianyu thought about it, and the only way to do it now is... cover the hole with a coat
At dinner time, when Lecter delivered today's warden's special dinner under the supervision of two guards, he saw the big hole left after the window was removed at a glance, covered by a brown-gray suit jacket Living.
Even Lecter paused in front of it for a moment to contemplate.
He saw Dr. Banner coming out of the building, showing a gentleman's smile, and nodded politely.
Banner hesitated for a moment, his eyes drifted towards the hole unconsciously. It was also the first time he saw the new look here.
Lecter keenly noticed his reaction, and pretended to ask casually: "This place seems to be covered by a piece of clothing."
"Maybe," Banner hesitated a little, "...the warden doesn't want to expose his privacy."
Lecter said meaningfully: "Privacy?"
Banner seemed to have made up his mind not to say more, and touched his nose in embarrassment to cover up: "...or maybe the weather has turned cold recently and the wind is a bit strong—I went to the restaurant."
When Lecter and the two guards walked into the office, Mr. Warden was sitting behind the desk looking through the documents as usual, and casually signaled to Warren guard to put the dinner plate aside.
Sure enough, the young Mr. Warden was not wearing his old-fashioned blazer, and his white shirt was buttoned up to the neckline.
Obviously, it has nothing to do with the weather.
But even Lecter is no longer predictable about the warden's behavior.
He could only smile and ask, "Mr. Warden, is the recent meal to your liking?"
Mr. Warden raised his head, as if he had just noticed his arrival, he frowned slightly.
"They are from your hands," the black-haired young man said indifferently, "When I eat, I don't think about whether it suits my appetite or not—I can only make sure that I don't starve to death. Will this satisfy you? Lecter?"
"But you know that there will be no problem with the ingredients." Lecter blinked.
"Don't ask me, you are the psychologist." Mr. Warden leaned tiredly on the sofa, "Tell me, Lecter, isn't this what you want?"
"You can also say that... that's right."
Lecter paused. Obviously, Mr. Warden didn't mean what he said—but it didn't matter.
For him, what he wants to explore through food is the feedback that the warden has given him for a long time. As a notorious ogre, he could understand the Warden's reaction when he first found out that he had made his own breakfast. But not a short period of time has passed now, and it stands to reason that the sense of crisis in the warden's subconscious should have gradually faded - but this is not the case.
Mr. Warden never changed easily because of anything, including his attitude towards the dinner Lecter brought.
Lecter smiled.
But the hole in the warden's office, and the blazer covering it, still confuses.
Zhang Dianyu couldn't eat the dinner with unknown ingredients—since Oliver told Oliver that there were too many roll calls at night after being overwhelmed by Cobblepot, he could only reduce the roll call frequency to once a day.
But it is true that no prisoners have disappeared in recent times, and the number is worthy.
The prisoners who were sent out to participate in hard labor were about to return to the prison, and he had already seen that the task completion rate was already 99%.
Speaking of which—he hadn't heard back from Banner yet. He was even thinking that maybe Banner was going to drag this off until he completely forgot about it.
Zhang Dianyu flipped through the clipboard, intending to write this down so that he would not forget it.
He wanted to find a piece of discarded paper from the back of the clipboard to record, but accidentally saw Sexton's file that was pressed at the bottom.
The weekend will be Sexton's funeral—according to Banner, reporters will be there that day.
He even expressed his concerns almost clearly, hoping that Zhang Dianyu could restrain his emotions as much as possible, and not expose his relationship with Sexton in front of people.
Zhang Dianyu could only pretend to agree.
He looked at the filing papers on the clipboard for a while, then pulled them out and put them in the bottom drawer so that no one else could see what was on them.
Banner came back after dinner.
And Mr. Fergus has returned to his room—considering that his belly is not small, Zhang Dianyu has to let him out occasionally—after all, this is actually his role, and he may still be useful. You don't want this to be your burden.
But he didn't intend to experience the feeling of being bald again if it wasn't necessary.
Moreover, he let Fergus live in him on the grounds that he needed someone to help manage the prison affairs - during the day he could just pretend to be discussing business affairs, killing two birds with one stone.
That night, Stark stood in the room where Zhang Dianyu had slept, frowning and looking at the silent night under the terrace.
The industrial park here really didn't arrange many people to come here, and every time the sun went down, it was too deserted.
"Sir, the video conference has started—Director Fury is explaining his third reason why he thinks you haven't woken up yet. Do you intend to refute it?" His artificial intelligence butler popped up and reminded.
Stark: "..."
He sighed, walked out of the room, and made a gesture command in the corridor to turn on the conference light screen.
As he walked towards the control room, he said lazily to the serious-looking person on the screen: "Although I don't think it's necessary, I know what you want to discuss—the recent developments in the prison?"
After confirming that Mr. Fergus is in charge of everything, the video conference was briefly suspended for a few days—of course, it may also be because several people gathered face-to-face in the control room next to him here at that time, and they could discuss in person. question.
However, Stark also pointed out that many people in the Internet age do not like face-to-face communication, and they can also hold video conferences in the same room at the same time.
Fury's answer at the time was—"Is there something wrong with you?"
As for Batman, he'd just give a disapproving look anyway. In fact, Stark would often ask if the Batcave's network was stuck during the conference wires when he continued to disagree.
Batman usually responds with a more disapproving look—a way of showing that he's expressing his opinion on events.
"About...Mr. Warden." Strange's voice came from the speaker, the screen shook violently, and there was a crisp sound of something falling to the ground.
"... Stephen, are you okay?" Stark asked, "Are you sure you don't need to be replaced as an undercover agent? There is no advantage for you here."
"I have it now." Strange picked up his phone and put it on the table, and replied solemnly, "I'm researching a topic on multiple personalities, and you should be able to see my paper in "Nature" soon—as long as I was able to convince Dr. Banner to cooperate with my research."
"?" Stark: "Is this the insight you want to share today?"
"No," said Strange, "I see why Fergus needs the Warden puppet. What he's doing will keep his life at risk—guess who's the scapegoat now?"
Stark's complexion became solemn, and he exchanged glances with the other people on the screen.
"You have also seen the situation of the warden." Strange stared straight at the screen, "If it is said that Mr. Warden is not saved by injection, but actually dies every time Woolen cloth?"
Stark held his head and thought: "It's not impossible to upload the data before his 'death' to recreate a warden? But Fergus is hiding in the prison now, we really can't get past the Ministry of Justice, Getting people out of jail — in fact, I've been getting calls from the OVP lately, as if the government thinks the League of Super Heroes is ignoring them."
The scene fell into a brief silence.
"That's true," Fury said.
"Please shut up." Stark scratched his hair irritably, "I heard that if the battle damage caused by superhero actions cannot be controlled, General Ross intends to come to chat with me on behalf of the Ministry of Defense."
He spread his hands: "Why doesn't he talk to Batman? Where's Superman?"
"Because no one is as blatantly telling the world that this is you, you are Iron Man." Batman replied, "—but this is indeed a dangerous signal, and it is worth noting." Mr. Wayne today does not wear Batman Armor, I don't know what the reason is.
"Cap not only tells the world that he is Captain," Stark retorted, "but also runs every day in front of the Lincoln Memorial. If he stands still under the monument, there will be children who will bring him flowers."
"Enough." Fury was tired of saying this, and he insisted on turning the subject back, "So, we have no way to deal with Fergus?"
"Unless—" Strange looked slowly at Stark.
Stark: "Stephen, your phone screen is crooked again."
"I'm looking at you, that's right." Strange ignored him, "I have a suggestion, maybe you are willing to listen."
"I don't think I have a choice." Stark rolled his eyes.
"My suggestion is to win Mr. Warden to our side." Strange continued on his own, "Don't interrupt—according to my observation, Mr. Warden has not completely complied with the Fergus' instructions to act..."
Strange paused. If the actions of the warden are all under the orders of Fergus, then this Fergus should really be shocked-he still remembers when he was locked in the office by the prison door, this is a normal person Can something be done
"So, this means that Mr. Warden may have a preliminary logic, after all, he has a real human body." Strange spoke quickly, "Then the next task can only be entrusted to you Now—help him understand the world, get out of Fergus' control, and most importantly, don't die."
"If he dies, what we have to face is a new warden?" Stark thought about it, and then he suddenly thought of what Strange said just now, "Wait, why is this mission be mine?"
It's a pity that the communication has all been hung up.
Stark sat alone in front of the disconnected screen angry.
"Maybe, because you once created life."
After a while, there was an electronic sound in the air that came to his ears.
It's his artificial intelligence butler.
"You call yourself life, isn't that a little too arrogant." Stark, who was still sulking, retorted.
"Thank you, sir," the AI replied.
Stark: "..."
He already knew that this AI should be formatted.
It was eight o'clock on Sunday morning, which was the day of Sexton's burial. Zhang Dianyu changed into a pure black suit, and brought a map, and the credit card he just discovered that he actually existed.
It never occurred to him that there was still a possibility of getting out of prison—he had always been more concerned with the total assets of the prison than with his personal property.
To be honest, the warden's salary is nothing to be concerned about.
Fortunately, unlike the game itself, the entire prison here is his - the lawyer even said he has the right to sell it.
But when he woke up the next day, he completely forgot about it.
I don’t know why, he may have a little confusion about the outside world—in fact, he also left the prison once. He was even a prisoner at that time, and he called Uber to send himself to the amusement park.
So when Stark's car is parked between a delivery truck and a hearse and a frantic bubble comes out of it, he starts to wonder why he's calling Stark.
He thought for a while, considering the plan after the funeral, and decided to leave through the main entrance immediately while Stark was still stuck behind the truck, and then go around the prison and go directly to the funeral.
He just needs to see where the coffin is buried, and he can even leave quietly in the middle of the funeral.
If Stark had gone with him, he would have asked him where he was going next - in fact, he had no destination. He has a little curiosity about the world, maybe go to a crowded place to see, or sit in a small tavern on the street for a while, listening to people chatting.
It wasn't like the vacation he'd proclaimed to Stark, and he didn't bother to explain.
Forget it directly.
When Stark finally squeezed into the prison from among a pile of cargo boxes, and passed through the noisy crowd after breakfast, he arrived at the warden's office.
He found that there were already several people inside.
Lecter stood in the center of the warden's office, a guard was holding delicate meals beside him, and another guard stood beside him blankly.
And the warden is missing.
Stark was a little surprised: "Where's Mr. Warden?" He looked inside, the bedroom door was closed tightly, and it was also a green staff door with a strong sense of disobedience.