Chapter 1440 Research on Manipulation (VI)

The building of the Florence Super Prison is a hollow regular hexagon. Each side of the outside is a different type of cell. The ventilation area is in the center of the building, which can prevent prisoners from escaping.

But a very big problem with this type of building is lighting. The polyhedral surrounding structure is destined to have several directions where the building cannot receive direct sunlight.

But fortunately, prisons don’t need good lighting. In other words, having a window in an ordinary prisoner’s cell that is only big enough to put an arm in is already a special gift for Amanda. Before she compromised with the FBI, , all cells are completely enclosed cans.

This small window added later had no effect. It was just to fulfill the minimum requirements of the Bill of Rights. Therefore, the sunlight could no longer be used as a natural alarm clock. Bruce was woken up by a commotion at the end of the corridor.

He heard the sound of extremely heavy footsteps. Each step on the ground was as hard as making a hole in the ground. But soon, Bruce could tell that this was not someone stamping hard, but that the person coming was a terrible person. big guy.

Bruce rarely used the adjective "scary" to describe anyone, but when he looked over the railing and saw the person outside the door, he didn't even feel that scary was enough to describe this monster.

It's not like Bruce has never seen big men before. His good friend Crocodile Man he met in the East District is a very rare big man. But the man outside the railing is a head taller than Crocodile Man and much wider than him. It is no exaggeration to say that , this man’s arms are thicker than Bruce’s thighs.

Bruce knew that even if he had not lost weight, he would not be able to compete with this monster in terms of weight, but he also knew that it was impossible for ordinary humans to achieve such arm circumference, and he must have used drugs.

Bruce looked up again and saw that the person who came was also wearing a mask. The black and white mask covered the upper half of his face. What was more eye-catching were the hair-like tubes on the back of his head and the strange equipment on his back.

Bruce slightly narrowed his exposed one eye and looked at the liquid surging in the pipe. Then he heard the prison guard calling the man's name and pushing him into the cell.

"Bane?"

Bruce sat on the bed and stared at the big man and shouted. The other party ignored him and just sat on the edge of the bed, staring at him silently with deep eyes under the mask.

Bruce finally ended his relaxed posture. He lifted the quilt and sat up. The muscles in his back tensed like a spring ready to be ejected at any time, while the other party's eyes kept looking at the muscles on his neck, waist and legs. muscle.

"Amanda lied to me."

The big man known as Bane kept staring at Bruce with that deep gaze. After being silent for a while, he said: "She said you were just a crazy rich young man, but you are not."

"I am."

Bain's gaze remained unchanged, still staring at Bruce. It was very rare for Bruce to feel the pressure in the eyes of others. The last time he felt this kind of pressure was when he faced Schiller, and it was the sick Schiller.

"You have the cold-blooded temperament of a general. Have you ever fought in a war?"

Bain asked again, his tone was not cold, it just sounded normal, and it didn't sound like many people deliberately lowering their tone when forcing others to answer, but it made Bruce's hair stand on end.

"So be it."

"Where?"

"hell."

It seemed that Bain took this answer as a cold joke that was not funny. His eyes were unblinking under the mask, and Bruce asked again: "Amanda asked you to kill me?"

"No one can make me do anything." Bane replied: "It's up to me, and it's up to you, to kill you."

The alarm bell in Bruce's heart rang even louder. In addition to being very strong, the opponent was also very smart, and he was no better than the madmen in Gotham.

Bruce entered the Batman state again for the first time in a long time. He took a deep breath in a subtle way, increased his heart rate, and allowed more blood to be supplied to the brain.

In an instant, space and time condensed, and blue-eyed Bruce stood up from Bruce's body, walked to Bain, and began to observe him.

Bain's body smelled of the sea, but it wasn't the smell of sea breeze, but the smell of humid air that amplified body sweat. He most likely lived in a relatively closed area for a long time, and the moisture content in the air The higher place, where Bain likely lived for more than ten years, gave it such an aura.

Gotham is a seaside city, and Bruce has also lived in the seaside slums. He is very familiar with this smell, which often appears on the people who do hard work in the living hell of Gotham's East End before it was transformed.

Basements in coastal cities are relatively humid, and the underground water veins flowing next to them are prone to seawater intrusion and have high salt content. If the air is not circulated, a strong sea smell will easily accumulate on the body.

But there are no traces of hard labor on Bain's body. Although his arm muscles are well developed, the skin on his shoulders has no scars left by long-term wear and tear. He has never done any lifting or stretching work. Compared with other parts of his body, his waist muscles are not developed enough, and his fingers are not. No signs of wear either, so not a mover either, and light signs of wear on the feet, not an errand boy either.

Bruce showed a puzzled expression. The opponent was very strong, but there were almost no traces of exercise on his body. There were many scars. Judging from his strength, he should not be bullied at any age, unless this kind of Strength did not accompany him throughout his life.

Cyborg?

Bruce focused his eyes on the tubes behind Bane's head again. He had tried his best to avoid looking at them because he felt that looking at them any longer would be an insult to his knowledge of biology and chemistry.

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From the insertion angle to the handling method, to the technical content, those tubes are simply a pile of shit.

Bruce has tried his best not to judge them with his own technical level, but if we look at it from the perspective of modern human biology and chemistry, this thing is not only a pile of shit, but also violates all laboratory safety and hygiene regulations.

Seeing this, Bruce really couldn't bear it. He gave up the subsequent observation and reasoning, looked at Bane's deep eyes with his one eye, and then pursed his lips and said.

"Let's not talk about anything else. Who connected the tubes behind your head for you? Does he have a doctor's license?"

Bane seemed to have never expected him to talk about this, so he didn't say anything for a while, but Bruce said again.

"Do you feel that the second tube on the right back of your head hurts when you turn your head to the left? That's because the doctor didn't avoid the nerve there when he cut, and why did they fix a circle of metal bolts outside the interface?"

"Because they need to fix the tube..."

"No, because they chose the wrong tube material for the back of the brain implant. They should use a soft tube instead of a hard metal tube. They connected the tube to your brain and found that the tube couldn't be bent, so they could only connect a circle of metal bolts to force it over."

Bane saw the young man with a head full of bandages across from him take a deep breath, then pressed his chest and said: Listen, I definitely don't have obsessive-compulsive disorder, but this is too outrageous. "

Bane narrowed his eyes slightly, and he said tentatively: "I killed seven people in the original prison, so I was chosen as an experimental subject."

"No matter how much you deserve it, you can't cover up the fact that their technology is not much better than drilling wood to make fire."

Bane looked at Bruce in silence. Bruce sighed after a long time, covered his only remaining eye with his hand and said: "Sorry, where were you just talking about?"

"This doesn't sound like something a rich kid would understand." Bane's tone became slower, and it sounded more like a chat than a threat.

Bruce tightened the muscles around his eyes and said: "Actually, do you know how bad they are doing?"

"Of course, butchers who kill fish are better than them."

Bruce felt very strange. The big man opposite made him feel very contradictory. He was not the kind of person like Big Dog who showed his strength all the time and kept exuding aggression to anyone.

When he was silent, he even had some scholarly temperament, as if he had done more in-depth thinking than anyone else in the first half of his life. This calm temperament was completely inconsistent with his rough appearance, as if a philosopher's soul was stuffed into the body of a beast.

So, Bruce also stared at Bane in silence. The two of them stared at each other for a few minutes, as if they were reading each other's souls through their eyes.

"You are not a rich kid, nor a murderer." Bane tilted his head slightly and said, "FBI agent? Police? Mad scientist?"

"You are not a murderer either, who are you?"

"Just a prisoner."

The two fell silent again, and this time it was Bruce who took the initiative to end the silence, he asked.

"What is your purpose in coming here?"

"To kill you, originally."

"Then why did you change your mind?"

"Because you are not you."

"Then you can also kill me."

"I don't plan to do that."

"Why?"

"I will kill you when I should kill you."

Bane's answer seemed meaningless, but with his eyes, Bruce could read more information.

Bane must be planning to do something when he comes here. There must be a time for him to kill his cellmate, but not now. He is waiting for a chance.

Bruce sat back a little and leaned his back against the wall. He was thinking that Bane was not a good cellmate, and more importantly, he was not a good target for manipulation.

Bruce was helpless and even complained a little. This mentality was not common in Batman's career.

And all his thoughts can actually be attributed to-

Why is it the sunset king shrimp again? ? ?

There are always people who want to see Batman in bad luck

Is there a possibility that Bats always have bad luck