Chapter 68 Dark Sun and Bat Light (Part 2)_1

During the winter vacation, the teaching apartments and postgraduate apartments of Gotham University remain open, and most of the laboratories are still operating. Schiller was living in the university's teacher's apartment, the only place in Gotham City he calls home. Hence, when the holiday was announced, he had no other place to go and continued to work on his papers in his office at the university.

The performance of Gotham University's psychology department in exams was not very satisfactory, which didn't earn him high appraisal points. Thus, he had to strive to publish more articles to improve his profile's score from his period of experience.

Most of the students at Gotham University were idle and scattered, and most of them lived locally in Gotham, which is not very large. Therefore, the majority of students could be reached upon call.

Bruce took advantage of the recent holiday to organize the psychology club. He seemed to show considerable enthusiasm for this. Understandably, because he needs to disguise, his test scores could only be classified as average. However, he is eager to learn some skills from Shiller, so organizing a club with his wealth is a good choice.

One day, Bruce, preparing his club paperwork, planned on delivering it to Schiller. As he stood at the entrance of Shiller's office, he heard a voice from inside the room talking on the phone before he had a chance to knock on the door.

"...Have you considered a frontal lobotomy? Inhumane? Isn't it inhumane to let him run around the hospital like a madman? How is Lady Adela doing? Still refusing to wear a straitjacket?... Well, let me introduce you to some female mob enforcers from Mary Street, let them be nurses, they will get things done quickly..."

"So Neuchman is also refusing treatment? And not taking medications? I have seen his medical records before, he has conflicts with the local mob. Let me call their boss later and let the leader send their greetings, he will surely be willing to cooperate with you..."

"... Don't worry about those drunkards, whether they are ill or not, the alcohol will tell them... People are coming to sell alcohol? Vodka delivery? I remember Douglas who used to work under you used to work for the largest liquor dealer in Gotham, let him write a letter to his former boss, tell him the Gotham Godfather said to stop selling alcohol to the mental hospital, are they not crazy enough?"

The patient in the back alley of Moose Street, his troubles stem from inheritance disputes in his family. You don't have to get involved in this mess, let them sort it out. We admit madmen here, not penniless schemers."

"I'll bring my students over tomorrow. Hang in there for one more day. What?... No, your worries are unnecessary. One of the students I'm bringing is the son of the Gotham Godfather, and the other..."

At that moment, the door suddenly opened, and Schiller, looking back, saw Bruce standing at the door and said, "....the other one is the world's wealthiest person."

At this moment, having listened to the contents of the phone call, Bruce really wanted to tell himself he wasn't going after all.

This Professor Schiller sounded too much like a mad doctor.

Putting down the phone and seeing Bruce standing there in a daze, Schiller said, "Come in. I've provided you with a pretty good internship opportunity, considering you've done a decent job running the club."

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

"What did you imagine? Like giving a long lecture to the patient as if I am teaching a class, telling them what's written in the psychology textbooks?"

"...Isn't that the case? At least it shouldn't be..."

At least it shouldn't be calling mobs and letting mobs intimidate, right? Bruce thought. Is this psychological treatment? This is physical treatment, isn't it?!

Schiller shook his head, saying, "Criminal psychology is a type of applied psychology. The emphasis of applied psychology is on application, not psychology."

"If this were Metropolis, I might try to talk nicely with them, but this is Gotham, and over half the mental patients in Arkham Asylum were forcibly admitted after losing a gang fight."

"And the other less than half?"

"Alcoholics who have messed up their brains, drug addicts who are in a daze due to drug abuse, and people who came voluntarily to hide from retaliation."

"Isn't there a mental patient?"

Schiller rested his hands on his hips and tapped on the desk with his hand, saying, "Why build a small mental hospital within a big mental hospital to house mental patients?"

Bruce wanted to answer, but after careful thought, what Schiller said seems very reasonable. Gotham doesn't need a mental hospital at all. Everyone here is mentally ill with only a few normal people.

"And what can I do? Heal the mentally ill? Let them be optimistic and become a good, normal person? After they are discharged, they can be sent directly to the crematorium, because they won't live past three days anyway..."

Bruce asked, "How is Jonathan doing?"

"You can go see him tomorrow." Said Schiller.

Bruce sat across him and then said, "I've been thinking carefully about that suggestion lately. I think I indeed need a robust base. It should be a comprehensive facility, combining a prison, warehouse, monitoring room, and laboratory."

"And I plan to build a comprehensive monitoring system to cover the entire Gotham City. Inspired by Rennie, I think I could also design my own unique pattern, letting people know who I am and whom they should seek help from."

"Have you decided?"

"The bat, of course, it's the bat."

"I know it's the bat, what I'm asking is, are you sure you want to wrestle with this city till the end?"

With his pen tapping on the table, Schiller said, "You still have room to retreat. Batman currently is just a quirky vigilante. Still, once you start to control this city full-scale, giving everyone the chance to call on you to fight crime, there will be no way back."

"When people know there's a mysterious and powerful hero they can summon easily, they will start to take it for granted, becoming a part of their lives. You will start to get engaged in some unimaginable troubles, and by then, even if you want to abandon it, there will be no way."

Bruce said, "I think I'm prepared, but what makes me doubt now is whether I have the capability to do it."

Schiller straightened up and began to clear up the files on the table, and while he was doing this, he said, "Of course you can, and not only that, you can do much more than just this."

"Why do you seem to have faith in me?"

"Because you're Batman."

After saying that, Shiller stood up and left.

The next day, Shiller and Bruce departed from Gotham University and drove to Arkham Mental Hospital.

Originally, Evans was also supposed to meet them at the university first, but some issues arose on Falcone's side that needed his son's attention, making him unable to start his internship until two days later. So, it was just Shiller and Bruce left.

Taking Batman to intern at Arkham Asylum seemed somewhat queer, but the Arkham Mental Hospital at this period wasn't the Lunatic Paradise filled with strange characters it would later become. As Shiller had previously mentioned, most of the patients at Arkham weren't genuinely mentally ill.

Consequently, the intended chief physician, Doctor Brand, was nearly driven to insanity. He was Shiller's old classmate and had only arrived at Arkham two months earlier than Shiller. In his own words, his employment experience at Arkham Psychiatric Hospital was the biggest hurdle in his life.

As Shiller was driving and thinking back on what Brand had told him about the situation in the mental hospital yesterday, they hadn't driven far from the university when they were caught in a jam.

They spent nearly half an hour stuck on a straight road less than 200 meters long. Shiller thought traffic in New York was bad enough, but he had underestimated the chaos of Gotham's peak hours.

The basic rule of the road in Gotham is that fate decides if one lives or dies. Most people drive as though their car is precious, but their life is not. Traffic lights are only there for the amusement of those stuck in traffic, and traffic indicator signs only serve to be kicked when someone is having a road rage.

Having lived and worked within Gotham University, and usually walked to where he needed to go, Shiller had never driven in the city during rush hour before.

When they drove into the roundabout, wave after wave of cars whizzed past. And Shiller remained unmoved. As all the cars made their way completely round the roundabout, Shiller still hadn't moved.

"Uh... Professor, when do you plan... I mean, when will you cross over?"

"I'm waiting for the indicator light, can't you see that?"

"But..." Bruce paused for a moment, at a loss for words, then asked, "Are you not familiar with Gotham's traffic rules?"

"Of course not. I just finished reading the Metropolis Driving Manual yesterday."

"But that's for Metropolis. Gotham doesn't have one of those."

"Have you ever thought that... " Shiller stomped on the gas pedal and aggressively twisted the steering wheel, "it's exactly because they don't have one that the traffic is this terrible!!!!!"

Bruce rubbed his ears and shifted a little to the side.

In the end, they gave up on driving, climbed the highest building nearby, and took the Wayne's family's helicopter there instead.

Upon arriving at the psychiatric hospital, Doctor Brand came to greet them. He was a somewhat chubby doctor who always looked cheerful but he now seemed rather haggard. When he saw Shiller, he greeted him enthusiastically, hugging him before shaking hands with Bruce. He commented, "You guys are early. I thought you'd arrive in the afternoon."

"We left this morning."

"Because of that, I thought you'd get jammed in traffic till the afternoon. I didn't expect you to arrive so soon." As they walked, he continued talking to Shiller, "Your suggestions have been very helpful. I feel like I've come here not to cure patients, but to serve as a judge."

"How are the patients?"

"The patients? Oh, the patients..." Brand replied.

"Patients who eat their medication and then down two bottles of whiskey while smoking a whole pack of cigarettes. They're doing very well. They even ran a betting pool in the basement storeroom the night before last, betting on when I would resign."

Shiller patted him on the shoulder and said, "Don't mind them. That's just how Gotham is."

Brand gave a bitter smile and replied, "If I had had any other option, I wouldn't have come here."

"Neither would I."

Brand shook his head and said, "It's not the same for us. I came to escape from my enemies. You did too, but if you didn't..."

Speaking up to here, he glanced at Bruce, then closed his mouth. This piqued Bruce's curiosity. It seemed that Doctor Brand knew something about Professor Shiller's past.

"All right, let's get down to work," said Shiller.

As Brand opened the door to his office, he stated, "I'm sorry that you've to use my office. The facilities in this hospital are quite old. This place is the only decent one here."

"Our main problem right now is that since the new police chief took office, many convicts he has sentenced now require mental health evaluations. There are also many who plan to reserve rooms here."

"There are too many people coming in and their backgrounds are too mixed. The doctors and nurses here can't keep up."

Brand wore a difficult expression as he said, "As you know, trouble tends to follow those people around. In just this past week alone, the hospital's windows have been shattered 18 times, at least a dozen different factions of assassins have infiltrated, four people are dead, one of whom was just an unlucky security guard. Not to mention people smuggling marijuana and alcohol into the hospital."

"It seems the situation is bleak. But don't worry, I can spend the whole winter holiday here. Things will gradually improve," Shiller commented.

Bruce felt a chill run down his spine.