In the long night, Gotham seemed to traverse time. The heavier the snow fell, the deeper the traces of crime would be buried. This is something every Gothamite understands. They know even better that some monsters only come out in such a snowstorm, accompanied by the sound of wind passing through the pine forest, dragging the entire city into a shocking hunt. The feast lasts until the mists of dawn rise, but tonight, it's the Blackest Night.
"Haven't heard from you in a while, Professor." The convenience store owner, known as the "Deer Hunter," picked up a piece of chamois from nearby, gently wiping the barrel of his gun, thin white mist escaping his mouth.
"No one's main theme in life is murder." Shiller sat by the table, looking at the snowfield dimly lit in the night, "Some people walk into the snowy night tonight because they have no other choice."
The Deer Hunter hummed lightly: "From the moment you walked in, I noticed your sharp eyes, I won't lie in front of someone like you. Originally, I should be in the East District right now, sitting by the fireplace, discussing the Christmas menu with my wife. But the snow's too heavy, you understand?"
"I thought you received an invitation from 'Moriarty'." Shiller looked at him, "Are you not interested?"
"Do you know why I'm called 'Deer Hunter'?" The Deer Hunter paused, held the muzzle upright, and wiped the butt of the shotgun, "Hunters always travel alone. I'm not interested in group hunts. But I'm curious, what kind of person would call himself 'Moriarty,' and how did you offend him?"
"I said, the night is still long, we can talk slowly." Shiller took a sip of his coffee and then said, "You don't like the title 'Moriarty'?"
"Who would like it?" The Deer Hunter snorted disdainfully, his hands pausing as if organizing his thoughts, then he spoke, "What's the point of comparing yourself to a character long created in a novel? Is he trying to say he's not himself, but a fictional character created by a writer?"
"You've never met such people, so you find it unbelievable. There are people in this world who strive with all their might not to be themselves."
"What are they fighting for, then?"
"Desire," Shiller said softly, "fast, fierce desire that belongs only to the moment. Nothing more."
"Hmph, sounds dumber and more shortsighted than a big guy like me who only read for two days." With a snap, the shotgun was loaded with a bullet, the crisp sound echoing with the doorbell.
The woman took off her thick down jacket, revealing her hot body clad in only a camisole dress. As if she didn't see the shotgun in the Deer Hunter's hand, she smiled familiarly at Shiller.
"Long time no see, Professor. I saw your car."
"'Nightingale,' what are you doing here?" Shiller accurately called out the woman's name, "Gotham University should be off-limits for you."
"I wouldn't normally come here. But who wouldn't know someone wants to hunt the famous professor? I'm here to watch the excitement."
The Deer Hunter showed a look of recall, as if remembering who this woman was. Soon, he remembered, raised an eyebrow and said, "You're not in the skin business anymore?"
"Your news is quite out of touch, Big guy. I was never a prostitute, just a stripper. You might have seen my performance." Nightingale laughed, also walking to sit beside the counter. The strong scent of her perfume invaded his nostrils, and the Deer Hunter waved his hand at her in disgust: "Stay away, don't interfere with my sense of smell."
She stepped back a few paces, then looked down at the corpse on the ground: "Looks like I came a bit late, missed the thrilling part."
"You came at just the right time." Shiller glanced out the window. His car was parked alone in the snow. The snow was falling harder, almost burying the old car. The streets were deserted, eerily quiet.
Nightingale moved opposite Shiller, also grabbed a tissue and wiped her bloodstained blade: "I took out a sniper on my way here, but there must be more outside. Professor, who exactly have you provoked?"
"Remember the former director of Arkham Asylum?"
"Depends on how long ago. You better not tell me it's from the Roman times." Nightingale's hand halted, then said, "Looks like he's still persistent."
"Who?" the Deer Hunter asked.
"Hugo Strange. This guy has always been dedicated to capturing all 'abnormal' people in Gotham to research them in his Psychiatric Hospital. That guy's quite capable. One of my sisters was captured by him, and it took me a lot of effort to get her out."
The doorbell rang again, this time it was a short figure entering. Looking no bigger than a six or seven-year-old child, yet bearing an adult's face, he seemed to suffer from dwarfism.
"'Dwarf'?"
"It's me." The other nodded, directly climbing onto a chair to stand there, then asked, "You guys are early. Has it already started?"
He too looked at the body on the ground, then smirked: "Can't believe someone dared to do such a thing. That 'Moriarty' is truly insane."
"Hugo Strange, have you heard of him?" Nightingale asked.
"If I hadn't heard of him, how would I be here?" the Dwarf said, "In fact, I escaped from his hands. I know full well how crazy that guy is."
"Who else?" Shiller asked.
"Moon Blade, Diviner, Minnesota Guitarist, Tattoo Face..." The Dwarf shook his head, "Too many."
Then he turned his head to Shiller and said, "Professor, do you know why Hugo suddenly came back?"
"Perhaps just to give you a chance for revenge." Shiller said, "Just like we agreed. You get the body, I get the mind."
"Wait," the Deer Hunter spoke up, "So you guys planned this?"
"Yes." Shiller nodded, "Hugo Strange is back, how could he not meet his old enemies?"
"I hold no grudge against him," said the Deer Hunter, "But I'm willing to help you. I hate those self-righteous guys."
"You're not helping me, but yourself. Your daughter is autistic, right?" Shiller looked at him and said, "And she's high-functioning. Hugo is most interested in people like that."
The Deer Hunter's expression changed. Nightingale added fuel: "My sister is like that. She has trouble taking care of herself, yet she can accurately draw every street in Gotham. Hugo wants to know how her brain works. He used his expertise to make a mess of that place. She's still living in a psychiatric hospital."
"I get it." said the Deer Hunter. Then he turned to Shiller and asked, "What do you want me to do?"
Shiller leaned an elbow on the counter, lightly touching his lips with his bent finger. This reduced the aggressiveness of his words, making it sound like a responsible professional judgment.
"Hugo is a very arrogant man, especially in his field. He thinks his last defeat was not due to his lack of professionalism, but because I cheated. So this time, he will definitely try to create an opportunity for 'fair competition' to prove he's not inferior to me professionally."
"Sounds cliché." Nightingale commented, "I'm not interested in academia. I just want to chop him up and feed him to the dogs."
"There will be such an opportunity." Shiller's tone was cold but not heavy, more like a thin layer of ice, with certain breathy sounds like cracks, implicitly extending, giving an uncertainty as to when it might shatter completely. It's more chilling than a stern command.
"Do you want a fair competition with him?" the Dwarf asked. "Or do you want us to ruin it all? Don't get me wrong; I'd be happy to do so. But if, as you say, letting him lose to you again is indeed the real show."
"Do you really think it will be fair?" Shiller showed a smile. The cold light from the road lamp outside the window illuminated his face, blurring every muscle line, turning the fleeting smile into something that was more an illusion than an expression.
"Do you mean he'll tamper with it?"
Shiller shook his head again and said, "Just perceived fairness. He creates an environment he thinks is perfectly fair, but that's only for him. In reality, everything is to his advantage."
"Sounds despicable."
"So am I. Otherwise, how do you think I beat him?"
"You showed him the right way." the Dwarf said, "So now he's using this trick against you. Can you beat him?"
"I don't need to beat him," Shiller said, "Otherwise, I wouldn't have called you here. Like I said, I'll handle the mental aspects. You need to handle his physical form."
"Then why not just deal with the physical form?" the Deer Hunter asked.
"It's not that simple." Shiller shook his head, "Hugo Strange has been dead for a long time. No one knows how he returned from hell. You can only kill his shell. To completely defeat him, you have to overcome his spirit."
Shiller reached out, retrieved his badge from the table, put it in his suit pocket, and then said, "His time is running out. Once Gotham's sewers freeze, he'll find a way to locate me. Brainiac will send you my last location. It won't be exact, and you'll need to find us first."
Shiller looked at the Deer Hunter: "That's why I came to find you. You can continuously track a wounded deer in the forest until it collapses. You can use such hunting skills to find the two of us."
"So, you watched that." the Deer Hunter smiled and said, "That was indeed a tense and exciting hunt. And the hunter will always be the winner."
"If it's just that, wouldn't it be unnecessary to have so many people?" Nightingale raised an eyebrow and said, "Hugo's body is not tougher than anyone else's. Once we find him, no one can withstand a slash."
"Someone will come to protect him." Shiller cast his gaze on the corpse on the ground and said, "Don't forget, Hugo is always good at manipulation. Many will march ahead willingly for him, some even hobgoblins returning from hell."
"Then let me taste the flavor of devils." the Dwarf said, "My only concern is, knowing this is a trap, can you really hold on until we arrive?"
Shiller displayed another smile: "The detective and the professor jumped off a cliff together, who returned in the end?"
"Are you saying Holmes will definitely defeat Moriarty?"
"I'm saying that the detective and the professor are both me."
"What about him then?"
"A hapless passerby who died in an accident."