Continuing down the corridor, female agent Lauren looked back at Shiller and asked, "Why did you have to burn those things?"
Shiller squinted his eyes, anguished, and said, "Do you know why rats can fly in the sky?"
Lauren was taken aback and subconsciously asked, "Why?"
"Because it's not a rat, it's a bat."
Shaking her head lightly, Lauren felt that Shiller indeed started to talk nonsense. She glanced at the map in her hand, pointed at an intersection, and said, "Turn here, there's another stronghold nearby..."
After that, she walked in front, leading the team forward, while Shiller was assisted by an agent in the middle of the queue. Bringing up the rear were Scott and another agent, both keeping a close eye on Shiller.
"Who's the one chasing?" Scott asked as they walked. Shiller shook his head and said, "I told you, it's the bat."
"Hope you can still come up with such riddles during the interrogation," Scott retorted with a cold tone, but Shiller only showed a slightly desperate expression. On the way to another base, he didn't speak again.
Upon reaching the other stronghold, he calmed down a bit and observed the situation inside the room.
It wasn't so much a room as it was a slightly refined cave, apparently underneath Gotham's sewer system. Someone had installed a generator and lighting system, as well as a small table and a few chairs.
Shiller had only seen such rooms in the old movies he watched a long time ago. Did the Federal Bureau of Investigation finally decide to go underground after century's worth of detours?
But after some more observation, Shiller figured that this was unlikely the Bureau's handiwork. First off, building such a large underground space beneath the water table would require unimaginable resources. Batman might have the skill, but it would take a long time.
Secondly, even if it were possible to build, this space had no apparent supporting structures, and was dry even though there was no waterproofing. The walls were devoid of any moisture or damp patches, which was extremely abnormal.
It was at this point that Shiller inquired, "Where's my medicine?"
Lauren, who had just put down her communicator, reported some issues on the road. The agents had been blocked, and it would be a while before the medication could be delivered.
Shiller, grimacing and panting, said, "Truth serum..."
"What did you say?!" Lauren didn't catch the word he said, so she leaned in. Shiller repeated, "Truth serum… it's Thiopental sodium, you should have plenty of it, right? Give me two shots, quickly..."
Lauren blinked her eyes wide, and raised her voice, "What?! Giving you Truth Serum? Are you... are you crazy? Delirious?!"
"Thiopental sodium acts on GABA neurons, prolonging the open time of chloride channels and inhibiting neuronal excitability. It's a type of sedative that takes effect in a short time. It's used for acute neurological excitement. If you have it, you'd best give me two shots quickly..."
Lauren stood there stunned, but Scott walked up and coldly said, "Get the medicine and give it to him."
Soon, an agent brought a dose of medicine, but Shiller squinted and said, "Not enough. I need at least double the dose."
Looking at his tense muscles and trembling fingertips, Scott ordered, "Give it to him."
After having the appropriate dosage injected, Shiller closed his eyes and dropped his head, motionless. He appeared as if he was drowsy due to the sedative, yet suddenly, he was jolted awake and shouted, "Blow up the previous intersection... blow up the intersection we came from quickly!"
Both Scott and Lauren were taken aback. An agent nearby said, "The drug should have taken effect. His blood pressure and heart rate are returning to normal, and the symptoms of excitement are gradually disappearing..."
"What was he talking about?" Lauren got close to Shiller, and she saw him lower his head again, still mumbling, "Blow up the intersection we came from quickly..."
"Blow it up? Why blow it up?" Lauren asked, baffled. Scott, however, stepped forward and coldly said, "Lauren, have you forgotten our rules? No matter what actions the detainees take, ignore them. They're just tricks to escape judgment."
An agent took out a rope and tied Shiller's hands to the arms of the chair. Scott stood in front of Shiller, looking down at him, and said, "We need some intel from you to confirm the authenticity of your identity. The more you talk, the greater your chances of safely reaching Washington."
Scott bent over and said, "Professor Rodriguez, you're a world-renowned psychologist. You should understand your own mental and psychological condition. I don't want to waste our time any further. After all, if we keep up like this, you'll be the first one to give in."
Shiller leaned back in his chair, looking rather troubled. The pursuit had taken its toll, leaving him even paler.
His suit jacket was disheveled, the rain had dampened his hair and it hung over his forehead in strands, and his glasses were fogged up. His pupils were slightly dilated underneath his glasses.