On a morning when Gotham City was still smog, Schiller stretched and sat up from the bed. He had just settled down at Marvel. After a few days of leisure, he found the figure of Agents of S.H.E.L.D. near his psychological clinic.

Those people are like candy that they can't be shaken off no matter how they are. For ordinary people, even Stark, the rich man in that world, is still annoyed by them but has no choice.

But Schiller is different. After Gotham was annoyed by the young Batman, he could pat his butt and leave and go to Marvel to hide. Now that Marvel is targeted by agents, he can choose to leave and come to Gotham to hide.

The agents of SHIELD did not discover how Schiller disappeared at all. His departure left no trace, neither train or air tickets, nor did he see him at the intersections of various highways, which made Nick Fury even more determined that Schiller was definitely not an ordinary person.

And after returning to the DC world, his colleague, Jonathan, the future scarecrow, did not find its fear of poison gas stolen, because Schiller was not greedy, and he only took away a small test tube.

After all, he is not like a scarecrow, who wants to use fear gas to create terrorist attacks. He is just dealing with a few incompetent gangsters. He doesn't need any high-tech equipment to spray these poison gases. He just needs to take a small spray bottle and spray it on the nose of an ordinary person. These concentrated fear gases become the best weapon. After all, those gang members cannot have the same reaction power as Batman.

When studying this poison gas, although Schiller did not have any systematic knowledge of chemical knowledge, he knew to use it for the best of his own use. In addition to spraying it as a weapon at others, Schiller found that this initial version of the fear gas seemed not pure. In addition to inducing fear, it could also induce some other negative emotions. This is really good news for a psychologist. After all, if the patient is always unwilling to confess his inner emotions, the treatment will not be carried out.

Schiller found that he could spray the fear gas that had been diluted hundreds of times as perfume on his body. For some reason, it may be the credit of the system. This gas did not have any effect on him, but it could cause people close to him to be infected with a small amount of negative emotions.

That's right, Schiller intends to use this trick to deal with the inexperienced Bruce, the young Batman.

Batman is not the master who predicted things later. Bruce is still too young. He had just traveled through the world and learned his skills and was eager to start his revenge plan. He put on the original version of the bat suit and took the bat dart, and wanted to fight off criminals. In his eyes, spending hundreds of millions to build equipment was really simple, but he did not realize that it was not these external objects that really made him Batman, but the spirit deep in his heart.

Obviously, Batman still has a long way to go to grow up, and Schiller, for his personal safety and a stable life in Gotham in the future, had to serve as the spiritual mentor of young Bruce.

It was another ordinary morning. For Bruce, he met Schiller on a rainy night. It was just about what happened last night. Schiller called out his real name. Bruce was not surprised. He knew that this person must have something different from ordinary people.

Perhaps it was a superpower, or perhaps it was magic. He had seen many such people while traveling through the world, and he also knew that this world was far from what ordinary people imagined, and there were many incredible powers peeking here.

Bruce knocked on the psychological counselor's door again, and a steady and stern "Please come in" came from inside.

Somehow, Bruce felt a sense of gratitude because the reply came very quickly. Obviously, the people inside knew who he was and were happy to let him in.

Batman hates all mysteries and nihilism, and so does Bruce. In his opinion, Schiller's attitude means that perhaps he will tell Bruce what is going on, rather than continue to rude and conceal, and use some discourse skills to circle him.

Bruce sat opposite Schiller again, and Bruce said: "Professor, it seems you are in a good mood today."

"Mr. Wayne, it seems you're not in a good mood today," Schiller said. "I thought you would come and pour me a cup of coffee like the first day."

He spread his hands and signaled that the table was empty, "You know that I didn't make coffee this morning, waiting for you to come."

Bruce was silent for a moment, but still got up and made a cup of coffee for Schiller.

Schiller actually just thought it was interesting to be able to drink the coffee made by Batman, but Bruce thought it was a test, or a technique of spiritual interference, using words to force the other party to do the behavior in his command. Well, thinking this way may indeed be more in line with Schiller's personality, a crazy doctor who is obsessed with psychology and psychiatric research.

Schiller took a sip of hot coffee, which dispelled the chill that spread all over his body because Gotham was cold, and Bruce spoke first:

“Why did you show up there last night?”

"I don't understand what you mean."

"If you want to hide it, you should make yourself a mask last night, rather than choose to deny it now after I saw your face."

Schiller put down his coffee cup and made a crisp sound on the table. He said, "I'm not going to deny that you saw me last night. I'm asking you, why do you have tens of billions of dollars in your net worth, and don't donate to do some foundation charity, but wear a ridiculous tights and run to the streets of Gotham City when it rains heavily, and compete with some gangsters with punches and kicks," he said.

Faced with this problem, Bruce was silent.

"This is not a question..." Schiller said, "You don't need to think about how to answer, because I will answer you."

"Because your fundamental purpose is not to rescue, but to revenge."

"This is the answer you gave me," said Bruce.

"No, I just saw the answer in your heart." Schiller said,

"I don't think there is mind reading in this world."

"Of course there is no mind reading technique in this world. It's just that some people don't realize what the strong desire in their hearts can be reflected through. People always think that they hide their hearts very well, but in fact, this is not the case."

"Can I learn this ability?" asked Bruce, "this ability to see through people's hearts."

"And then use them to retaliate against the criminals?" Schiller asked. "Obviously you think of all this too easily. Bruce may be your motivation to revenge, but if you treat it as all the driving force that supports you, it will be like last night."

Schiller, made a falling gesture, Bruce explained:

"I went back last night and I added a cloak to my bat armor, and I also planned to design a belt..."

"You know that none of those things are the point. You can add an iron fist to your hands with thousands of kilograms of strength, or an engine to your boots that will let you leap to the moon, and you can even design a pair of wings for yourself to fly to any planet in the solar system. You can do these, Bruce, I believe you can do them."

"But these are not enough, not enough."

"If I had such power, I could destroy criminals all over the world, wouldn't I?" asked Bruce.

Schiller sighed. Obviously, Batman, who has not met the Joker, could not imagine how an unarmed criminal, an ordinary person who only knows a little acrobatics, fighting skills, and thin and powerless, could defeat a superhero who is proficient in hundreds of fighting skills and has learned all kinds of abilities around the world.

Schiller felt that no matter how he guides the present Bruce and the future Batman, he can only be regarded as the associate professor in Batman's life. It is his mortal enemy, the Joker who really teaches Batman everything.

And now, the clown should still live a very ordinary life in which circus.

Bruce is still very arrogant now. He asked Schiller to learn psychology because he was like this. He learned all kinds of skills from all over the world. His modesty and studious arrogance do not actually conflict.

Schiller said: "As it, you can certainly study psychology, and you have everything in the textbook. You can come and listen to my class, go back to memorize, do your homework, write your paper, and then take the final exam. I am a professor, and I will not stop any student from studying."

"You know I don't want to learn this..."

"Then what do you think there is?"

"Your...special skills." Bruce gestured for a moment, and he said: "I have seen many such people all over the world. They have special skills that ordinary people do not have..."

"No, I'm different from them, I don't have any ability beyond ordinary people."

Bruce pondered for a moment, and he pursed his lips, obviously not believing it, but Schiller really had nothing to explain to him. The young Batman was obviously too immature, he was a little too straightforward, impulsive, and did not expect the consequences.

And he seemed too impatient, and the failure of his superhero career worsened his impatientness. Obviously, he felt that if he could learn the same skills as mind reading from Schiller, he would be easier to deal with criminals, rather than being pushed downstairs by several gang members and falling to the ground in a mess.

He hadn't figured out what exactly caused his failure.

Bruce returned from Schiller again, and Schiller just told him, and even threatened him that he would be better off studying hard, finish all the courses, and then get a good grade in the final exam.

And Bruce obviously didn't listen to a single word.

At night, Schiller went out again, and he went to Jonathan's secret base again and stole a lot of fear gas. This time, no matter how stupid Jonathan was, he should be able to see that his two rows of test tubes were less than half.

Schiller was not well versed in any chemistry, and he had no way to do any improvement or transformation of such special gases, and could only load them into different containers, or make some simple dilution.

But there is one more thing he can do, that is to use these fear gases to scare Batman.

Soon Schiller appeared in the Morson neighborhood again. He knew that Batman would come here again. Bruce was such a person. Wherever he fell, he had to get up there and never change the place. This was his pride.

The entire Mosen neighborhood is not big, with only six alleys. The building where Bruce fell was the first alley in the Mosen neighborhood. There is a nightclub there, which is controlled by the gutter.

The Grotto Gang is just a small gangster in Gotham, because there is a drainage ditch in Gotham on the edge of the Mosen neighborhood. The Grotto Gang likes to throw some miserable victims into the ditch, and the ditch becomes increasingly stinky. So other gangs began to use the Grotto Gang to refer to this gangster. The Grotto Gang was complacent and quite proud of it.

The first enemy who defeated Batman was obviously not a famous villain. They were just a group of gangsters smoking upstairs in a nightclub. Batman used his fighting skills to deal with most of them, but with insufficient practical experience, he was sprinkled with lime by the human eye, and then fell downstairs in a staggering manner.

Batman in the early stage had no assistant and his equipment was not mature. It was not surprising that he would capsize in the gutter, but the gutter gang did not have such good luck for the second time. Schiller leaned against the wall at the end of the Morson block for a while and heard a terrified cry from the nightclub. Soon the night became quiet, and a little gangster who no one would care about disappeared from Gotham.

Batman walked out, obviously his condition was much better than last time. He lowered his head, as if he was still thinking about how to modify his bat equipment.

Suddenly, he remembered something, so he walked forward and turned a corner. He wanted to find the beggar, and then give him some dollars, and told him that the Grooves had been solved by him and that he would not be in any danger with the money.

Indeed, he found the beggar in the old place again, still wrapped in the quilt, shivering in the cold night air of Gotham, and the umbrella that Schiller had given him was gone.

Batman handed him the money and said to him in a low voice: "There are no gangsters in this neighborhood, you are safe."

The beggar looked up tremblingly, but Batman didn't see a trace of gratitude in his eyes. He found it in disbelief that the beggar stared at his eyes with only hatred.

"Don't you feel happy?" Batman asked.

"Of course he doesn't." A familiar voice came from above Batman's head, and Schiller stood on the balcony upstairs of the Beggar's Building, looking down from the second floor at Batman.

"Because of the existence of the Grooves, there will be a steady stream of guests in that nightclub every day. Some guests will hold the food in their hands. When they only have a little left, they will throw it on the side of the road, so that the beggar can pick it up and continue to eat."

"But now without the ditch gang, the nightclub cannot be opened anymore. Without guests, it means there is no food."

"But a few hundred dollars are enough for him..."

"Yes, you have the best medical system in Gotham, a private doctor, a family health consultant, you haven't tried the feeling of having a cold or fever a few times, and you don't know what it would be like to be frozen and unable to stand up."

"In your imagination, he can go to the nearest supermarket with a few hundred dollars and buy enough daily necessities. Maybe he can find a hotel to stay for a few nights, and then cure his illness..." Schiller dragged his voice and continued:

"But it's a pity that he couldn't even make the first step."

Batman squatted down, and he pulled the quilt at the beggar's feet and found that her entire lower limbs were frozen purple. It took several days of rain in Gotham City, and her legs were soaked in water, and they were swollen.

Batman is proficient in surgical theory, and he knows that even in the best hospital in Gotham, such lower limbs can only be treated with amputation.

He was completely silent, and he saw the many dollar bills that were not holding the beggars in their hands, but letting them fall to the ground casually, and he felt an incredible absurdity, a shame that suffocated him.

He suddenly felt that many negative emotions irresistible to swallow his heart, making him want to roar. Batman felt that he had never lost his composure like tonight. He stood up, staggered back and took a few steps back, and then fell to the ground.
Chapter completed!