Chapter 2865: The Ant Tries to Topple the Tree (Part 1)

Shiller gently pulled back the curtain and saw a car parked downstairs of the hotel; the doorman received a business card from the driver, and soon after, room 1905 was knocked on.

Following the waiter downstairs, Shiller had just rounded the stairwell corner when he bumped into someone. Initially, he looked back instinctively, but his steps suddenly halted, and he stood on the stairs, staring at the person's back while cold sweat trickled down his neck.

The figure resembled the guest in room 1903 strikingly.

The waiter in front, noticing he wasn't moving, had to stop and asked with concern, "Sir? Sir???"

Shiller paused for a moment, ignored the waiter's call, and hurried after the figure; however, the man was nowhere to be seen in the corridor.

Shiller slightly tiptoed on the spot, then rushed toward room 1903.

Bang bang bang! Bang bang bang!!

"Open up!"

Shiller shouted as he knocked on the door.

Suddenly the door opened, and a woman looked at Shiller bewilderedly and asked, "What's wrong? What is it?"

Shiller craned his neck inside while the woman immediately turned wary and said, "What are you doing? Go away now, or I'll call the police!"

"Oh, that, ma'am, I meant no harm, just that the smoke detector on this floor just went off. Do you smoke? I'm worried about a fire hazard…"

The woman was clearly skeptical but still said, "No, I don't smoke, neither does my husband…"

"And your husband…"

"What is it, Doris?!" a gruff voice came from inside, as a tall man approached and said to Shiller outside the door, "What is it? Is there a problem?"

Shiller took a couple of steps back and said, "No, nothing, just the smoke detector went off. I thought it was from you smoking, but I guess I need to check with security then."

The door to room 1903 closed, and Shiller moved toward the staircase while the waiter, with a somewhat helpless expression, said, "What exactly happened? Is there anything I might assist with?"

"No... it's nothing." Shiller looked back once more toward the staircase and said, "Let's go."

The two continued forward, soon reaching the elevator doors, where Shiller looked back to see the sign for the 19th floor hung directly opposite the elevator doors, with two lush green plants beneath it, seemingly imported tortoise back bamboo.

Shiller stepped into the elevator, and as soon as the doors closed, the light in the elevator flickered twice. Shiller immediately looked up at the ceiling while the waiter remarked, without a ripple in his tone, "The filament in the elevator's light has some loose contact, but please rest assured, the drive and lighting are completely separate systems, and it won't affect the elevator's normal operation."

"I hope so," Shiller said.

The elevator quickly reached the ground floor; stepping out of the elevator, Shiller looked toward the front desk and saw a figure with black hair, which made him breathe a sigh of relief.

But just as he was about to avert his gaze, a figure with red hair crossed the front desk and headed toward the back office.

Shiller immediately followed, but suddenly a large group of tourists from a travel agency blocked his way. By the time Shiller managed to get through the crowd, there was nothing left in front of the manager's office.

Shiller walked over and knocked hard on the door; soon a waiter came over and said, "Sorry, sir, the manager is not in. Do you need him for something?"

With no response to his knocking, Shiller kicked the door and let out a breath, saying, "Do you have your manager's business card?"

"Sorry, I don't have it. You'll just have to wait for his return."

"When will he be back?"

"The hotel has been having some electrical issues recently; he probably went to find the maintenance staff. He might not be long, you could wait in your room in the meantime."

Shiller pursed his lips looking at the door plate, then decided to give up. He turned toward the revolving door and began to push it outward to leave, and someone else was pushing it inward to come in.

Shiller stared intensely at his side profile, but the revolving door was irreversible, and after Shiller left, that person also entered, and by the time Shiller pushed the revolving door to enter again, that person had already disappeared.

The guest from room 1901.

Shiller stared at the elevator for a while before he pushed the outward door, then he sat in his car where he saw a familiar figure—it was Little Bruce, who seemed unhurt.

Shiller got into the car, sitting next to Little Bruce, and asked emotionlessly, "Did you send me the message? Since you're alright, why not just tell me what's going on directly?"

"Clearly, I'm being monitored." Little Bruce seemed surprised by Shiller's grim expression, but he explained, "Someone has been monitoring my communication. I'm not sure if they could crack your sophisticated communication system, so I chose a safer method."

"What do you need me for?"

"Obviously, to help me deal with that investigator. For some reasons, I can't handle him personally. You'll need to figure something out or he'll tear apart my home!"

"What did he do?"

"That guy is a total nutcase," Little Bruce cursed. "Before, I had made Gotham Cathedral my base, and he followed the clues to find it. Fortunately, I ran fast, but due to my hasty escape, I left behind some clues."

"I wanted to go back and erase all traces, but that madman used the pretext of a terrorist attack and blew up the cathedral. I lost over 40 tentacles, and it hurt so much I couldn't sleep properly for half a month."

Little Bruce sighed deeply and said, "I really want to crush him to death, but for some reason, I can't kill him. Even if I injure him, he recovers very quickly."

"Moreover, that guy's luck is ridiculously good. He could stumble upon any clue and even found a Forbidden Curse from who knows where in the Gotham Library. He has made a bunch of bombs and has already taken out over 200 of my tentacles. If I don't deal with him soon, he's bound to barge into my house and blow me up."

Shiller sat in silence. Little Bruce had no choice but to ask him, "What's wrong with you? You look so pale. Are you feeling unwell? Shall I call your personal doctor for you?"

Shiller shook his head silently because he had just discovered a terrifying fact, the Doujie Communication System had vanished completely, the interface that used to appear at a single thought was gone.

"Are you communicating with people from other cosmoses? I advise you to give up on that idea. That mysterious guy monitoring me has created a device that blocks brainwaves. No abnormal brainwaves can get out, or else I wouldn't have been made such a mess by them," Little Bruce continued.

"Stop the car!" Shiller suddenly yelled.

The driver slammed on the brakes, and both of them lurched forward toward the front seats. Shiller reached out to steady himself, while Little Bruce took a solid hit.

"Turn around and go back," Shiller said.

Little Bruce looked at him with a puzzled expression. He opened his mouth to ask, but seeing Shiller's extremely poor complexion, he said nothing and told the driver, "Turn around, back to the hotel. Perhaps we forgot something."

The driver reluctantly turned the car around and drove back.

Shiller glanced at the rearview mirror. Little Bruce looked normal, but his own complexion was as pale as if he were dead.

The car soon stopped at the hotel entrance again. Shiller pushed open the car door and stumbled out, then pushed through the revolving door. He didn't stop, rushing into the elevator and pressing the button for the 19th floor.

Reaching the 19th floor, he quickly rushed to room 1905, took out his key card, opened the door, and saw the briefcase on the couch. Shiller couldn't help but turn to look at the bedroom.

There was nothing there.

He walked over, picked up the alarm clock from the floor, opened the battery compartment, and inside laid quietly two batteries.

Shiller threw the alarm clock on the bed and picked up the bottle of wine from the bedside. It wasn't cheap wine, worth at least $1000, very much in keeping with the standards of Wayne Hotel.

Shiller sat on the edge of the bed and dialed the front desk. He asked, "Why is there a bottle of wine on my bedside table?"

The person at the front desk, speaking in a gentle tone, explained, "We are now offering a complimentary room upgrade service. According to our records, you did not opt for an upgrade, so you will receive a gift from the hotel. The record shows you were given a bottle of wine from Margaux Vineyard. Is there a problem?"

"No, it's nothing," Shiller hung up.

He set down the wine bottle and looked at the wine glass he had taken out the night before, his expression showing indecision.

Eventually, he put everything down and stood up, went to the living room, and opened the briefcase. All the candles were intact, the wicks were fresh, with no signs of use, not a drop of vodka was missing, and there were exactly 60 matches.

Shiller took out a match and lit it. He hesitated for a moment, then picked up the red candle, silently mouthing the name of Manipulation.

The candle was lit, the power spread out, and Shiller breathed a sigh of relief as the power formed a pathway connecting to his Psychic_Battlefield, and the gateway opened.

It wasn't Shiller who came.

Shiller saw a cosmos behind the door.

Then, countless horrific, eerie, and dark things surged into his mind. He let out a scream and extinguished the candle as fast as he could.

Shiller leaned on the sofa, gasping heavily and stared in disbelief at the slightly burned candle.

A knock came from the door of room 1905.

Shiller went over and opened the door. Little Bruce stood outside, his look one of concern as he said, "Are you alright? I just came up and heard a scream. What on earth happened to you?"

Shiller understood the subtext of his words was actually asking, "Just who could do this to you?"

Shiller slowly began to tell Little Bruce about his previous encounter. Not surprisingly, Little Bruce didn't believe it, as Shiller indeed had no evidence.

Batman is not the kind of detective who heavily relies on evidence; he knows that sometimes reasoning requires a bit of inspiration, and the truth often requires a leap of thought to grasp.

But the problem was, the things Shiller mentioned lacked any basic logic, and Little Bruce raised several obvious questions.

"First, and most incredulously, would the Four Families really band together? Why? What common ground do they have to unite?"