Chapter 68 Black Sun and Bat Lamp (Part 2)

During the winter vacation, Gotham University’s faculty apartments and doctoral students’ apartments are still open, and most laboratories continue to work. Schiller only has the Gotham University faculty apartment in the entire Gotham City, and there are no other houses. , so when the holiday was announced, he had nowhere to go and continued to stay in the school office writing papers.

The results of Gotham University's psychology department examination were not very satisfactory, which meant that his evaluation points would not be very high, so he had to try to publish a few more articles to increase the rating of this experience on his resume.

Most of the students at Gotham University are idle and very unorganized, and most of them live locally. Gotham is not too big, and most of the students are in a state of being on call.

Bruce took advantage of the vacation time to organize the psychology club. He seemed to have a lot of enthusiasm for it, but it was no wonder that because he needed to disguise, his test scores could only be considered mid-range, but he also I am very eager to learn some skills from Schiller, so it is a good choice to use my ability to organize clubs.

On this day, Bruce was taking the materials prepared by the club and planning to give them to Schiller. He stood at the door of Schiller's office. Before he could knock on the door, he heard a voice on the phone coming from inside.

"... Have you ever considered frontal lobotomy surgery? Inhumane? Is it humane to let him run around the hospital? How is Mrs. Adela? Still refusing to wear a restraint?... Well, I'll give it to you Introduce a few female gangsters from Mary Street and ask them to work there as nurses, and it will be done in a few clicks..."

"That Novman also refused to receive treatment? He also refused to take medicine? I have seen his medical records before. He has a grudge against the local gang. I will call their boss later and ask him to greet him. After a while, he will definitely be willing to cooperate with you..."

"...Don't worry about those drunks. Whether they are sick or not, the alcohol will tell them... Someone comes door-to-door to sell alcohol? Vodka to deliver medicine? I remember that Douglas under you used to work for the largest liquor merchant in Gotham. , asked him to write a letter to his former boss's mansion, saying that his godfather told him not to sell alcohol to the mental hospital. Don't you think those people are crazy enough? "

"The patient at the end of Elk Street was involved in a dispute over the inheritance of his family's property. You don't have to get involved in this mess, just let them solve it themselves. We accept crazy people here, but we don't accept poor people who are full of bad ideas..."

"I will take my students there tomorrow, and you insist on one more day, what?... No, your worries are a bit unnecessary. One of the students I brought is the son of the Godfather of Gotham, and the other..."

At this time, the door suddenly opened by itself. Schiller looked back and saw Bruce standing at the door. He said: "...the other one is the richest man in the world."

At this time, after listening to the content of the phone call, Bruce wanted to say that he still didn't want to go.

This Professor Schiller sounds too much like a crazy weirdo.

After putting down the phone and seeing Bruce stunned, Schiller said, "Come in, I'll provide you with a good internship opportunity, because you run the club well."

Bruce pursed his lips, then opened his mouth, hesitated, and said, "Your treatment style is quite different from what I imagined..."

"What do you imagine? Talking to patients at length like giving you a class, telling them the psychological knowledge written in textbooks?"

"...Isn't it? At least it shouldn't be..."

At least you shouldn't call the gang and let the gang threaten you, right? Is this therapy, Bruce wondered? This is physical therapy!

Schiller shook his head and said: "Criminal psychology is a type of applied psychology. The focus of applied psychology lies in application, not psychology."

"If it were in Metropolis, I might try to talk to them nicely, but this is Gotham, and more than half of the mental patients in Arkham Asylum were forcibly sent in because of failed gang fights."

"What about the other half?"

"Alcoholics who drink their brains out, drug addicts who take drugs until they are delirious, and people who come here to avoid revenge."

"Isn't there a mental patient?"

Schiller put his hands on his hips, knocked on the table with his hand and said: "In a large mental hospital, why should we build a small mental hospital to specially care for mental patients?"

Bruce wanted to answer, but after thinking about it carefully, Schiller's words seemed very reasonable. There was no need for a mental hospital in this hellish place like Gotham. Everyone here was mentally ill and there were only a few normal people.

"And what can I do? Cure the mentally ill? Make them positive and optimistic, and turn them into kind and normal people? Then they can be sent directly to the crematorium after being discharged from the hospital. They won't survive more than three days anyway..."

Bruce asked, "How's Jonathan?"

"Go and see him yourself tomorrow," Schiller said.

Bruce sat opposite him, and then said: "I have thought about that suggestion carefully recently, and I feel that I really need a strong base. It should be a comprehensive facility that integrates prisons, warehouses, control rooms, and laboratories."

"And I plan to build a comprehensive surveillance system to cover the entire Gotham City, and Lenny inspired me before. I think I can also design a special pattern for myself to let people know who I am and who they are. Who should I turn to?”

"Have you considered?"

"A bat, of course a bat."

"I know it's a bat. What I'm asking is, are you really ready to fight this city to the end?"

Schiller tapped the table with the tip of his pen and said: "Now you still have room to retreat. Batman is just a weird vigilante, but once you start to take full control of the city, everyone will call you to fight criminals." opportunity, then you have no way out.”

"When people know that there is a mysterious and powerful hero that they can call around, one day, they will regard it as a part of their lives and take it for granted, and you will also participate in some unimaginable things. Go into trouble, and when the time comes, even if you want to leave, it won't be possible."

"I think I'm ready, but now I'm doubting my ability to do it," Bruce said.

Schiller straightened up and began to collect the documents on the table. As he collected them, he said: "Of course you have, and you are more than capable of doing all this."

"Why do you always seem to have so much confidence in me?"

"Because you're Batman."

After saying that, Schiller stood up and left.

The next day, Schiller and Bruce drove from Gotham University to Arkham Asylum.

Originally, Evans had to come to the school to join them first, but Falcone's industry had some issues that his son needed to deal with, and he had to be two days late to start his internship, so only Schiller and blues.

Taking Batman to Arkham Asylum for an internship sounds a bit weird, but in fact, Arkham Asylum at this period was not a lunatic paradise for later talents. As Schiller said before, now in Arkham Most are not truly mentally ill.

Because of this, Brand, the original attending doctor, was almost driven crazy. He was Schiller's old classmate and only came two months earlier than Schiller. In his words, his working experience at Arkham Psychiatric Hospital was... The biggest hurdle in his life.

As Schiller drove, he recalled what Brand had told him yesterday about the current situation in the mental hospital. The car had not driven far from the university when it was stuck on the road.

A straight road of less than 200 meters took almost half an hour to drive. Schiller originally thought that New York was already congested enough, but he did not expect that Gotham during the first and second half of rush hour could be even better.

The basic traffic rules in Gotham are that life and death are determined by fate and wealth. The driving style of most people here is that cars are valuable but lives are not. The only function of the traffic lights here is to entertain people stuck in traffic jams, and the role of traffic signs is They only get kicked when people commit road rage.

In the past, since Schiller worked and lived at Gotham University and basically walked when going out, he had never driven on the streets of Gotham during rush hours.

When the car drove through the straight road and entered the turntable, a wave of cars passed by, but Schiller didn't move. Another wave of cars passed by, but Schiller still didn't move. When the cars on the turntable all turned around, Schiller still didn't move.

"Uh... Professor, do you plan to... I mean, when do you plan to go there?"

"I'm boarding the indicator light, can't you see?"

"But..." Bruce was speechless for a moment, and he said, "Aren't you familiar with Gotham's traffic rules?"

"Of course not, I just finished reading the Metropolitan Driver's Manual yesterday."

"But that's Metropolis, there's nothing like that in Gotham."

"Then have you ever thought..." Schiller stepped on the accelerator and turned the steering wheel hard, "It's because of the lack of it that the traffic is like this!!!!"

Bruce touched his ears and moved his body to the side.

In the end, they gave up driving, climbed to the tallest building nearby, and then took the Wayne family's helicopter over.

When they arrived at the mental hospital, Brand came out to pick them up. He was a fat doctor who seemed to have a good temper and always smiled, but now he looked a little haggard. After he saw Schiller, he hugged him warmly. After a while, he shook hands with Bruce again and said, "You guys came really early. I thought it would be in the afternoon."

"We'll leave in the morning."

"Because of this, I thought you might have to be stuck in traffic until the afternoon, but I didn't expect it to be so soon." He said to Schiller as he walked, "The suggestions you gave were really helpful. I feel like I'm not here to treat people." The one who is sick is the one who decides the case.”

"How are the patients doing?"

"Patient? Oh, patient..." Brand said.

"Patients who can drink two bottles of whiskey and smoke a whole pack of cigarettes after taking medicine are so good that they started betting in the basement warehouse the night before when I would quit my job."

Schiller patted him on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry, that's how Gotham is."

Brand gave a wry smile and said, "If I had any other option, I wouldn't come here."

"Isn't it the same for me?"

Brand shook his head and said: "We are different. I am hiding from my enemies, although you are too, but in fact, if you don't..."

At this point, he glanced at Bruce and shut up. Bruce's curiosity immediately rose. It seemed that Dr. Brand knew something about Professor Schiller's past.

"Okay, let's get to work," Schiller said.

Brand pushed open the door of his office and said, "I have to let you use my office. The facilities in this hospital are relatively old, so this place is pretty good."

"The main problem now is that after the new police chief took office, many of the prisoners he tried needed psychiatric evaluation certificates, and many of them planned to book beds here directly."

"There are too many people coming, and the composition is too complicated. The doctors and nurses here are too busy."

Brand showed an ugly expression and said, "You know, those people have a lot of troubles. This week, the hospital windows were broken 18 times, at least a dozen assassins from different forces came in, and four people died, one of whom was an unlucky security guard, not to mention those who desperately transported marijuana and strong liquor in..."

"It seems that the situation is not optimistic, but it doesn't matter. I have a whole winter vacation to spend here. There will always be changes." Schiller said.

Bruce couldn't help but feel a little cold on his back.