Chapter 68 Black Sun and Bat Lamp (Part 2)
During the winter vacation, the faculty apartments and doctoral student apartments of Gotham University were still open, and most laboratories continued to work. Schiller only had the faculty apartment of Gotham University in the whole Gotham City, and no other houses. Therefore, when the holiday was announced, he had nowhere to go and continued to stay in the school office to write papers.
The test scores of the Department of Psychology of Gotham University were not very ideal, which made his evaluation score not very high, so he had to strive to publish more articles to raise the score of this experience on his resume.
Most of the students at Gotham University were idle and very casual, and most of them lived locally. Gotham was not too big, and most of the students were in a state of being on call.
Bruce took advantage of the holiday to organize a psychology club. He seemed to have a lot of enthusiasm for it, but it was no wonder, because he needed to disguise himself, so his test scores could only be barely considered mid-level, but he was eager to learn some skills from Schiller, so it was a good choice to organize a club with money.
That day, Bruce was holding the information prepared by the society and was going to give it to Schiller. He stood at the door of Schiller's office. Before he knocked on the door, he heard the voice of a phone call coming from inside.
"...Have you considered frontal lobotomy? Inhumane? Is it humane to let him run around the hospital? How is Mrs. Adela? Still refusing to wear a straitjacket?... How about this, I'll introduce you to a few female gangsters from Mary Street, let them go there as nurses, and it will be done in a few steps..."
"That Nofman also refused to accept treatment? He also didn't take medicine? I've seen his medical records before. He has a grudge against the local gang. I'll call their boss later and ask the boss to say hello to him. He will definitely be happy to cooperate with you..."
"...Don't worry about those drunks. Alcohol will tell them whether they are sick or not... Someone is selling alcohol to their door? Vodka delivering medicine? I remember that Douglas under your command used to work for the largest liquor dealer in Gotham. Let him go to He wrote a letter to his former boss's house, saying that the Godfather told him to sell less alcohol to the mental hospital. Don't you think those people are crazy enough? "
"The patient at the end of Elk Street is a dispute over the inheritance of his family's property. You don't have to get involved in this mess. Let them solve it themselves. We accept lunatics here, but not poor people with bad intentions..."
"I will take my students there tomorrow. You can hold on for another day. What? ... No, your worries are a bit unnecessary. One of my students is the son of the Godfather of Gotham, and the other one..."
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, Bruce, who had heard the content of the phone call, wanted to say that he would not go.
This Professor Schiller sounded too much like a crazy doctor.
After hanging up the phone and seeing Bruce standing there in a daze, Schiller said, "Come in, I've got a good internship opportunity for you, considering that 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? Like giving you a class, giving a long lecture to the patient, telling them the psychology knowledge written in the textbook?"
"...Isn't it? At least it shouldn't be..."
At least it shouldn't be calling the gangsters and letting them threaten, right? Bruce thought, is this psychotherapy? This is physical therapy!
Schiller shook his head and said, "Criminal psychology is a kind of applied psychology. The focus of applied psychology is application, not psychology."
"If it was in Metropolis, I might try to talk to them nicely, but this is Gotham. More than half of the mentally ill patients in Arkham Asylum were forcibly sent in after failed gang fights."
"What about the other half?"
"Drunkards who have ruined their brains, drug addicts who have taken drugs to the point of being unconscious, and people who take the initiative to come here to avoid revenge."
"Is there no mental patient?"
Schiller put his hands on his waist and knocked on the table with his hand and said, "In a large mental hospital, why do we need to build a small mental hospital to specifically lock up mental patients?"
Bruce wanted to answer, but he thought about it carefully. What Schiller said seemed to make a lot of sense. Gotham, this damn place, doesn't need a mental hospital at all. Everyone here is mentally ill, and there are few normal people.
"And what can I do? Cure the mentally ill? Make them positive and optimistic, and turn them into normal, kind people? Then they can be sent directly to the crematorium after they are discharged from the hospital. They won't live for more than three days anyway..."
Bruce asked, "How is Jonathan?"
"Go see him yourself tomorrow." Schiller said.
Bruce sat opposite him and said, "I have thought about that suggestion carefully recently. I think I really need a solid base. It should be a comprehensive facility that integrates prisons, warehouses, monitoring rooms and laboratories."
"And I plan to build a comprehensive surveillance system to cover the entire Gotham City. And Rainey gave me inspiration before. I think I can also design a special pattern for myself to let people know who I am and who they should turn to for help."
"Have you thought about it?"
"Bat, of course it's the bat."
"I know it's the bat. What I'm asking is, have you really thought about it and are you determined 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 fully control the city and give everyone the opportunity to call on you to fight criminals, then you will have no way out."
"When people know "You know that there is a mysterious and powerful hero who can be called upon by them. One day, they will take it for granted as part of their lives, and you will be involved in some unimaginable troubles. At that time, even if you want to leave, it will be impossible." Bruce said, "I think I am ready, but now I doubt whether I have the ability to do it." Schiller stood up and began to tidy up the documents on the table. As he tidied, he said, "Of course you have, and you can do more than all this." "Why do you seem to have confidence in me all the time?" "Because you are Batman." After that, Schiller stood up and left. The next day, Schiller and Bruce set out from Gotham University and drove to Arkham Psychiatric Hospital. Evans was supposed to meet them at the school first, but there were some problems with Falcone's industry that needed his son to deal with, so he had to start his internship two days later, so only Schiller and Bruce were left. Taking Batman to Arkham Asylum for internship sounds a bit weird, but in fact, Arkham Asylum at this time was not the paradise of lunatics that later talents emerged. As Schiller said before, most of the people in Arkham are not real mental patients.
Therefore, the original attending doctor Brand was almost driven crazy. He was Schiller's old classmate and came only two months earlier than Schiller. In his words, the experience of working in Arkham Asylum was the biggest hurdle in his life.
While driving, Schiller recalled what Brand told him yesterday about the current situation in the mental hospital. The car was stuck on the road before it drove far from the university.
It took almost half an hour to drive a straight road less than 200 meters. Schiller thought that New York was already congested enough, but he didn't expect Gotham in the upper and lower peak hours to be even better.
The basic traffic rules of Gotham are that life and death are determined by fate, and wealth is determined by heaven. Most people here drive in a way that their cars are valuable but their lives are not. The only function of traffic lights here is to entertain people stuck in traffic, and the function of traffic signs is just to kick people when they have road rage.
In the past, Schiller worked and lived in Gotham University, and basically walked when he went out. He never drove on the streets of Gotham during rush hour.
When the car drove through the straight lane and entered the roundabout, a wave of cars passed by, and Schiller did not move. Another wave of cars passed by, and Schiller still did not move. When all the cars on the roundabout turned a circle, Schiller still did not move.
"Uh... Professor, what are you going to do... I mean, when are you going to go?"
"I'm on the traffic light, can't you see?"
"But..." Bruce was speechless for a moment, he said: "Are you not familiar with Gotham's traffic rules?"
"Of course not, I just finished reading the Metropolis Driver's Manual yesterday."
"But that's for Metropolis, there's nothing like that in Gotham."
"Then have you ever thought about..." Schiller stepped on the accelerator and twisted the steering wheel hard, "It's because of the absence of it that the traffic is so congested!!!!"
Bruce touched his ear and moved his body to the side.
In the end, they gave up driving, climbed the tallest building nearby, and then took the Wayne family's helicopter over.
When they arrived at the mental hospital, Brand came out to meet them. He was a fat doctor who looked good-tempered and always smiling, but now he looked a little haggard. After seeing Schiller, he hugged him warmly, and then shook hands with Bruce. He said, "You came really early. I thought it would be in the afternoon."
"We left in the morning."
"That's why I thought you might be stuck until the afternoon, but I didn't expect it to be so soon." He said to Schiller as he walked, "The suggestions you gave me were really helpful. I feel like I'm not here to treat patients, but to be a judge to judge cases."
"How are the patients?"
"Patients? Oh, patients..." Brand said.
"After taking the medicine, the patients can drink two bottles of whiskey and smoke a whole pack of cigarettes. They are very good. The night before yesterday, they opened a bet in the basement warehouse to bet on when I would leave."
Schiller patted his shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Gotham is like this."
Brand smiled bitterly and said, "If I had any other way, 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, and so are you. But if you don't..."
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'm sorry to ask you to use my office. The facilities in this hospital are relatively old, and only this one is good."
"The main problem now is that after the new police chief took office, many prisoners tried by him need psychiatric evaluation certificates, and many of them plan to book beds here directly."
"Too many people come, and their backgrounds are 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 windows of the hospital 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, and there will always be changes." Schiller said.
Bruce couldn't help but feel a little cold on his back.