Chapter 40 Prison Diary 4

I sat up and slowly put on my robe.

He stood there, watching me silently.

"Is it Halloween?" I asked, straightening my shirt. "So you came to see me dressed like this?"

He glanced at me first, then his gaze fell on the piece of paper I was holding.

"I'll be busy later," he replied.

"Oh," I said. "Then why are you still here?"

He didn't say anything else. Instead, he pulled a white bottle from his tactical belt and placed it in front of me. The outer shell looked familiar, and I recognized it immediately—it was the medication I'd been prescribed by my psychiatrist.

...He went through my things again.

Sparks leaped in my stomach.

"This is what you left at the manor. I later examined it," he said slowly. He was wearing a helmet, so I couldn't see his expression. "I found something wrong with this bottle of medicine. The drug inside isn't quetiapine as stated on the packaging. The drug inside the pills is very similar to the candy you ate earlier."

I blinked slowly.

I didn't say anything.

He continued, "I spoke with the doctor who prescribed this medicine for you that day and showed him your picture, but he said he'd never seen you."

My heart suddenly raced.

"That's normal," I heard myself say. "Hospitals are always busy, so it's normal for doctors to forget a patient..."

"Jack," he interrupted, serious. "You're a famous actor, you're Bruce Wayne's boyfriend, and you were attacked the day before your appointment, making headlines—"

...I know.

I even remember the doctor reciting the headline about me.

I stared at the bottle, lost in thought.

Seeing I didn't react, Batman simply pulled out his terminal and motioned me to look at the screen.

He pulled up a video.

It showed a man in a white coat pinned to the ground, his hands clasped behind his back, his face pressed to the floor. He looked terrified.

Then, a deep, raspy voice came from outside the shaky camera.

"Tell me about this medicine."

A black-armored arm appeared from the edge of the frame, placing a medicine bottle next to the doctor's cheek.

The doctor took a horrified look, struggling as he shouted,

"This is quetiapine! An atypical antipsychotic, commonly found in psychiatric departments, and dispensed from the pharmacy!"

Oh, I thought quietly, this is how he called it "talking" to doctors.

The Batman in the video easily suppressed the doctor's struggles with a single hand. He poured a few pills from the bottle and placed them in front of the doctor, even crushing one to reveal a black powder.

"Honestly! What's in this?"

The doctor leaned in, trying to identify it. After a moment, he said in disbelief,

"I don't know. I don't recognize this stuff... I've never seen it before!"

The video was silent for a few seconds.

Then, in his terrifying, deep voice, enough to silence a child, he said, "

Cary Brown, you prescribed this medication to a patient named Jack Napier two weeks ago."

He pulled out a photo and unfolded it before the doctor.

"Who ordered you to do this?"

"I didn't... I recognized him! I knew he was an actor. Listen, I swear I never saw him!"

I slowly straightened my back, my breathing quickening slightly.

The scene continued, and Batman's voice reappeared.

"If you lie, you know the consequences."

"I didn't! I swear I never saw him," the doctor slumped to the floor, looking on the verge of collapse. "Check the surveillance! I usually see patients in the office during office hours, and I catch up on my rest time in the office. If he'd been here, I'd definitely remember him!"

My hands began to scratch the bedboard uncontrollably.

Batman remained unmoved. He continued,

"The hospital's surveillance system was undergoing 'maintenance' during those days, so there's no evidence to support your story."

"Check the medical records..." he said tremblingly. "There must be records of the patient there."

Batman didn't respond to the doctor's suggestion. Instead, he urged him to carefully recall everything that happened on June 11th.

The doctor looked like he'd lost all memory. Forced by Batman's terror, he stuttered something that sounded like a made-up lie.

The video finally froze on Batman's jet-black helmet. He whispered a threat,

"You must keep everything that happened today secret, or I'll release your bribery records."

The video ended.

I felt like my brain was filled with lead... heavy, dizzy, and struggling to function.

This all seemed real.

"I can't find your medical records at the hospital. They might have been deleted,"

Batman's voice echoed in my ears. I turned my head to look at him, dazed.

From the shadows, he said calmly,

"I need you to recall the appearance of the doctor you met and other details of your visit. I doubt it was Cary Brown."

What did he look like?

He wore a mask and glasses. All I remember was a young, white man with thick hair.

The details of the visit...

I remember making the appointment... I remember sitting in the waiting area... I remember covering myself up so I wouldn't be recognized... I remember the nurse calling my name. If it weren't for the familiar Jack, she might still remember me... I remember how I didn't dare tell anyone about my condition for days...

Wait...

Since there were no medical records, no surveillance footage, and no one remembered me—

how did he know I went to that hospital on that day, even knowing the name of my attending physician?

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over me.

I slowly raised my head to look at him.

"How do you know so many details?"

He hid himself behind his helmet, but at that moment, I desperately wanted to see his face clearly.

He simply replied calmly,

"I know this for safety reasons."

Safety again

...

It seemed like everything he did was attributed to "safety."

I realized that all these details pointed to one possibility:

he had been monitoring me.

Yes, yes.

He was watching me the whole time, not just monitoring me, but probably also recording it—every minute, every second, every action I took, I thought was under his watch.

…

I couldn't help but gasp a few times, and then, my chest vibrated, and a low laugh crawled from my throat.

"How funny, Bat! How could I not know how precious I was! How I needed your constant consideration for my safety?"

The laughter grew louder, like a clockwork puppet—

it was a strange feeling, I couldn't control myself. Something was clearly enough to infuriate me, but that ridiculous laughter continued to surge from my body.

"Jack," he called.

Air continued to rise from my lungs, sliding up my throat. The laughter was like a cough, intermittent, irritating, and it made my eyes sore.

I laughed so hard that I couldn't straighten my back, and my shoulders shook continuously.

"Jack, stop laughing."

The voice was muffled and indistinct.

The dark shadow on the ground took a step closer to me, and our shadows merged together -

"Jack," he repeated, "stop laughing."

He put his hand on my shoulder.

The laughter turned into a cough. I calmed down.