Jonathan Klein is a natural criminal who is passionate about putting people in fear and has a strong sense of vigilance.

When Shi Lu stepped into the stairs, he could no longer see any electronic equipment. All the surveillance was removed, and there was not even a single light here. I am afraid that it was done so well to prevent someone from using the circuit secretly.

The detective looked at the bottomless passage and found a flashlight.

In order to investigate in various secret places, isn’t it normal to carry a flashlight with you?

According to the direction of the wind, Shilu quickly determined the approximate direction and exit location, ran along the wall to mark it, and soon saw a place that should be an office area.

One of the rooms is still on.

“Have you finished your work today?”

Jonathan Klein asked coldly, the glasses on his nose reflected a faint light in the dim environment, making him even more...evil.

But he even meticulously combed his hair and a suit, making him look like a gentle scum.

"Three barrels have been poured."

"Let it go twice, and then lock the door." Klein picked up the white coat on the chair, "I have a few more patients to treat."

Of course we all know the "treatment" method.

"By the way, did that John Hardwick, Falcone send someone to take it away?"

"Not yet." The younger brother who followed Klein shook his head, "They said there was a deal tonight and come and pick people up tomorrow."

"They want people, and now they are so perfunctory." Klein said dissatisfied, and put his hand on the door handle. "Don't they know how terrible the police detective is?"

"You call them later."

The door is open.

A black shadow hit Klein's neck and naturally failed to escape.

Shi Lu threw away the steel pipes that were temporarily requisitioned from the ground in his hand.

Clang.

The metal product fell to the ground and collided with the cement, making a crisp and cold knock.

Klein fell to the ground, his consciousness gradually sinking into darkness. Before he completely fainted, he heard the consulting detective who had met once said something.

"Actually, I don't think I'm scared. By the way, Dr. Klein, do you feel John's feelings?"

Only Shi Lu was still sober, so he did not deliberately maintain his character, but even if the real Sherlock Holmes was here, he probably would have done this.

He took Klein as a floor and stepped on it hard from it.

The detective’s partner needs to be cherished by the detective.

————————————

"Watson, Watson, are you okay?"

Watson felt that someone had untied himself from the chair, and the man took off the hemp rope tied to him, carried him down, and left himself half lying on the ground.

Very good, this can promote blood circulation and allow the patient's body...

No, where am I?

“…Sherlock?”

"It's me." The detective put his coat on Watson. The two of them were sitting in the corner now. He half hugged Watson, and Watson leaned against his chest. "How do you feel?"

"Fortunately, it may be a slight concussion, which is this."

Watson covered his head. At such a close distance, he could clearly see the detective's gray eyes in the darkness, and the iron railing at the door was reflected.

“Arkham Mental Hospital in Naihe Island.”

"Damn, who brought me here?"

"I'm sorry about this, Watson." The detective lowered his voice and covered his hat on his head. "It was a psychiatrist named Jonathan Klein - he used hallucinogens and controlled the enemy, obviously because I tied you up."

"I made preparations when I followed you out of that damn hole, Sherlock." Watson sat up on his feet, "The good thing now is that I was not persecuted by that hallucinogen."

"Of course, I came early enough."

Under the moonlight, the dust rose and fell in the air, neither of them spoke, the detective was thinking, and the doctor tried to make himself less dizzy.

"Have you handled it?"

Watson asked suddenly in silence.

"Not yet." The detective replied immediately, "but I have figured out the general path. When you recover, we will leave. Gordon is waiting for the special forces outside, and they will be almost here."

"I think I'm ready, let's go."

"Really? It will take a while before those idiots can react. Are you sure you don't have a rest?"

"No, I can move freely."

"Okay, then we'll leave, follow me closely."

Shi Lu stood up and took out a bunch of keys to open the locked door. "Warson, there are many mentally abnormal patients here. If you happen to see one or two strange ones, be careful not to shout out."

"I see."

The detective took the doctor straight to the depths of the basement in a quick and quiet manner, and he heard Jonathan Klein and his men say that he would pour two more barrels of stuff.

Obviously, the things that can be asked by the scarecrow are not about taking out garbage, it may be poisonous, or hallucinogens, or a bucket of money at all. In short, you have to figure it out.

The sound of the thundering water became clear, as if a stream was flowing at the bottom of Arkham. How could such a loud sound of water be there in such a place?

Shi Lu made a gesture to Watson, signaling him to stop, and secretly poked his head out and looked over.

There was a much lower room, surrounded by large stone brick walls, several shabby electric lights were hung from the ceiling, and the generator was rumbling, and this place was probably the only place in the entire basement to provide electricity.

Several tall men in red work clothes poured something into the bathtub in the corner, and several others sat at the table with steel basins, wearing gloves to mix things.

It looks like a black-hearted workshop.

Of course, the most important thing is the barrels mentioned by Klein - several barrels of things are being poured into huge cracked water pipes.

That water pipe connects the entire Gotham water supply system.

“I remember Oswald Coppert said someone stole the microwave evaporator from Wayne Enterprises.”

"You mean... are they pouring hallucinogens into the water supply system?" Watson asked in a low voice, "and then use that machine to spread throughout Gotham?"

"I think so." The detective also replied in a low voice, "Warson, it seems that your reasoning level has really improved. Although many of them are based on intuition, it is also very good."

It is normal for a detective to carry a small camera with him?

Shi Lu took out his camera and started taking pictures. For the sake of prosecution, these are all evidence.

"Warson, you follow this road first. I have a gun here. You can use it first. I want to go back and do something."

"All right."

"Wait, you can get my police officer's certificate again, if those people need to see..."

Watson groped in the darkness and found the holster at the detective's waist.

Sherlock has never been willing to reveal his plan to me, and no one can figure out what he is thinking, but he can hardly make mistakes - Watson thought so, and he has always believed in him very much. If he doesn't understand, he won't understand.

Watching Watson walk away, Shi Lu put the camera in place and went back. He was afraid that Watson would encounter something unexpected, and now he has settled the person, so he has to go back and see what happened to Jonathan Klein and the Joker.

The office lantern had been blown out by Shi Lu. He swept over with a flashlight, and the bright white lights were integrated into a beam and shone on the scarecrow.

He hasn't woken up yet.

Very good, tied it up with hemp rope and stacked it with his younger brother.

The detective continued to move forward, and at this time he also heard the chaotic sound behind him becoming louder. If the special forces came in, it would be regular even if they were divided into several teams. This sound should be the workers who made hallucinogens running around.

He walked inside, and it would not affect it.

The clown's room is almost here.

Bypassing a gray-white wall, the detective saw the iron gate.

The iron door bolt was still there, but the cane on it disappeared. A hole broke out on the wall next to it, and the clown naturally disappeared.

A small piece of blood dripped from the ground, and the detective squatted down and found a playing card with jker next to it.

The blood was drawn out by the clown himself with iron pieces, and a few big words were written on the ground with blood.

thankyu.

The clown's smiling face almost emerged.

He knew he would come back.

Is it thanks for the cane or for the riot that will get him out?

The detective stood up again and stepped into the room with his legs raised.

Klein would not install electric lights for the patients' rooms, and even special patients like the clown would not. The detective could only observe them little by little with a flashlight.

The walls were full of meaningless things—no need to mention pipes and bats, there were many smiling faces, a whole wall was painted with green and white oil paint, and even a map of the interior basement of Arkham.

The scarecrow... can't play with the clown at all.
To be continued...