Chapter 1970 U-Transcendence Event (Sixty-One)

Chapter 1944 U Beyond Event (Sixty-one)

This time the bus drove for an unusually long time, perhaps to give the people time to rest. There were no uneven roads on the way, and the vehicle was very stable. The people on the bus were also drowsy.

If it were a normal person, after experiencing the previous dream event, he would definitely not sleep well at this time. This feeling of being sleepy but unable to sleep is the most torturous.

But the four people on the bus had no such worries at all. They closed their eyes and took a nap. However, none of them needed sleep to replenish their energy. After their physical strength was almost restored, the four people woke up one after another.

Batman and Natasha did not change much, but Batman and Schiller were a little different.

Batman seemed to relax a lot. He was still wearing the light-colored suit he got from Nehelet Manor. He took off the jacket of the suit, loosened the collar of his shirt, moved his stiff neck, and let out a long breath.

Natasha, who was sitting in the row in front of him, turned around, put her chin on the back of the chair, raised her eyebrows and said, "In good condition, huh?"

"I haven't been in such a good condition for a long time." Batman raised one corner of his mouth and winked at Natasha, obviously hinting at something.

Natasha immediately showed a bright smile, the female agent pursed her lips and waved to Batman, and the two sat in the seats in the next row, mumbling something there.

After Schiller woke up, Batman found something wrong, so he walked over and sat next to Schiller, then turned his head to look at him and tried to shout, "Greed?"

Schiller yawned, nodded, stretched out his hand to pull the collar of his shirt that was buttoned a little tightly, sighed and said, "I said I wouldn't come up, but they forced me to come up."

"What's wrong with them?" Batman asked about Schiller's other personality traits.

"Nothing, but the noise was too loud, and Super I put them in solitary confinement." Schiller sighed again and said, "I don't think I'm really suitable for this place. I'm just a psychiatrist."

"I hope so."

Schiller looked at Batman with wide eyes and said, "What do you mean? I'm not one of those mentally ill people in Gotham. I'm a normal, skilled, and reasonably priced psychiatrist."

"Three hundred million dollars a quarter for consultation?"

"Why did he even tell you this?" Schiller complained, "When are you two going to church?"

After saying that, he seemed a little restless, stood up from his chair, walked to the aisle between the seats, looked left and right, tapped the seat backs with his knuckles, and looked up at the skylight, just like he was shopping in a vegetable market.

Just when he was about to shake the seat with his hand, he seemed to hear something suddenly and said to the air: "Okay, okay, let's play the game according to the rules, okay?"

Schiller walked back to his seat with some disinterest, but before he sat for half a minute, he pointed to the front and looked at Batman and said: "Is there anyone in the driver's seat?"

"There was no one before."

Schiller stood up again, holding the handrail and walked to the front of the bus. Looking to the side, he found that there was really no one in the driver's seat of the bus.

The driver's seat of the bus is an independent space with a metal wall in the middle and a small door, which looks just enough for an adult to enter and exit.

Above the door are vertical railings, below is a thick iron plate, the door is a transparent wire mesh, and above the door hangs a huge lock with a circle of diamond marks on the lock.

Batman and his team had checked the lock before. Of the 10 diamonds on the lock, only 4 were lit at this time, which meant that they had successfully passed four levels. It seemed that to open the lock, they had to complete all 10 levels.

Schiller squatted down and picked up the lock. He looked into the keyhole and found that the keyhole was not blocked and there was a normal structure inside.

However, the material of the lock body is very strange. It is not ordinary metal. It is very light but very strong. All the metal structures on the bus are like this. It seems that it cannot be cracked by brute force.

It seems that there are two ways to end the game, either to complete 10 rounds of the game or to find the key to the lock.

But there is another question. After opening the driver's seat of the bus, where should the car be driven to end the game?

At this time, the remaining three people gathered around, squatting, sitting or standing at the door of the driver's seat. Schiller shook the padlock with his hand and said, "Have you ever seen a horror movie that consists of many small stories?"

"Fatal Videotape?" Natasha gave an example. She said, "The basic plot is that an organization came to a certain place to search and found a bunch of videotapes. Each videotape is a horror pseudo-documentary."

"Yes, but this kind of film has a common feature, that is, there will be a main line connecting all the stories."

"For example, in the story of the fatal videotape, the videotape is the carrier of the horror story. Each videotape represents a horror story, and the continuous discovery of videotapes and the revelation of the source and meaning of the existence of the videotapes is the main story."

Schiller stood up and patted the door of the driver's seat beside him and said, "Obviously this bus is equivalent to the videotape in the fatal videotape. It leads us to one horror story after another, and tracking down the secret of this bus is obviously our main story."

Natasha folded her arms and tapped her toes lightly, saying, "Yes, in this kind of horror film composed of small stories, many horror stories will be connected, or the supporting characters and passers-by in the previous story are the protagonists of the next story."

"And the one who caused this series of stories to happen is naturally the mastermind behind the main story, and the protagonist and supporting characters will more or less intersect with him."

"It seems that we should collect clues in the first few stories." Schiller said.

As soon as he finished speaking, the eyes of several other people fell on him, and their eyes were not very friendly. The general meaning was to say, who is the reason why we failed to collect clues carefully?

Schiller coughed twice awkwardly. Natasha also felt familiar with Schiller's expression. She tried to shout, "Doctor."

Schiller smiled at her. Natasha seemed to have suddenly collapsed and let out a sigh. She walked up to Schiller and hugged him. She patted his back and said, "Long time no see, doctor."

"It's been a long time. You're about to have your next psychological evaluation."

"I know it won't be that long."

Bebat turned his head to look at Batman. He had vaguely heard the conversation between Batman and Schiller before, and then he found that he seemed to be the only one in the car who didn't know him. It might be Schiller's new personality.

Schiller leaned against the driver's door, smiled at Bebat and said, "Nice to meet you. Actually, I'm Doctor Schiller."

"You look like a metropolitan person."

"I guess so."

Schiller yawned again. He turned his head to look at the almost unchanged scenery outside the car window. He was about to say something when something strange happened.

"Boom!!!"

The violent explosion, rolling and fire, everyone's eyes were dark.

Schiller did not feel any pain, but his consciousness was briefly blacked out, which was manifested as a blackout.

Although the blackout was short, the recovery process was a bit long, just like waking up from a faint. Schiller regained consciousness but not yet regained consciousness.

Gradually, he felt that he was lying on the cold ground. He thought, what a disastrous scene.

Soon, Schiller found that he could hear sounds. He heard some "sizzling" electric current sounds above him, and then a hazy light appeared in his sight. It seemed to be a light bulb hanging above his head.

Then he found that he could raise his arms, but the dizziness was still very heavy, so Schiller lay on the ground without moving until he could feel his whole body.

At this time, Schiller's vision had been fully restored, and the halo he saw was indeed a lamp hanging on the ceiling.

His palm felt that he was lying on the cement floor. There were no tiles or floors. The ground was a little damp, so it was particularly cold.

Schiller sat up very slowly and turned his head to look in the direction of the electric current sound. Sure enough, there was a big TV in the corner above the room, which was constantly playing snowflakes. The sizzling sound came from the TV.

"What the hell? Don't tell me that a little puppet will come out to play a game with me later. Plagiarism is too lame."

Schiller muttered, stood up, shook his neck, rubbed his waist, and found that he didn't hurt anywhere, but he felt a little dizzy. He sighed and said, "Why am I so exciting right at the beginning? Am I kidnapped?"

The snowflakes on the TV flickered twice, and the frequency of the sizzling sound also changed. Schiller turned his head to look again. After the screen flashed a few times, a figure appeared on the screen.

It was indeed not a puppet, it was a rag doll.

Schiller put one hand on his waist and stretched out a finger with the other hand and said: "If you dare to say 'I want to play a game with you'..."

"You must play a game with me."

Schiller slapped his forehead.

Schiller sighed and looked at the TV helplessly. The doll was a little girl with light brown linen skin and dark brown wool braids. There were two buttons sewn at the position of the eyes, and the mouth was a seam, but it could really open its mouth. There was red cotton in the mouth.

"Schiller, you are a psychiatrist..."

"You are wrong, I am a professor of psychology."

"Schiller, you are a psychiatrist..."

"Ragdoll, you are a repeater."

"Schiller, you are a psychiatrist..."

"Okay, okay, I am, please continue."

"Schiller, you are a psychiatrist, you listen to the troubles of countless people, but the results of the treatment are closely related to the fees paid. You don't care about their pain, you only care about the money you earn."

"That's true."

Ragdoll paused.

"You have had countless opportunities to save other people's lives, but you cruelly rejected them because they could no longer provide you with the material conditions you wanted."

"Don't talk as if there is really someone in this world who can provide the material conditions I want."

The rag doll paused again.

It seems that its original lines should be quite long, but for some reason, it did not continue to speak, but said "The password to open the door is in the human heart. You must use your superb psychological skills to learn their secrets. What choice will you make this time?"

With a "click", a phone fell from the ceiling with a plug-in phone line. With another slight "click", Schiller saw a small secret door opened under the wall behind him, and there was a socket inside the secret door.

As soon as the phone line was connected, the phone rang urgently. Schiller picked up the phone and said to the other side: "Hello?"

"Hello? Are you a psychiatrist?"

That was Peter Parker's voice.