"The identity of Batman is the alarm you use to intimidate them and make them scruple. You deliberately make yourself serious and silent, unable to understand and communicate. You turn yourself into an evil god and let all criminals walk.
When I am in darkness, it is as if I were walking in your kingdom.”
When Schiller said these words in a soft and psychedelic tone, as if he was praying or reading a book, Batman stared at him more and more intently.
Until a certain moment, he suddenly woke up and pulled himself away from that hazy connection. When he looked at Schiller again, his eyes were even deeper.
"So, how did you do it?" Batman's tone also began to be a little psychedelic, as if they were talking in the real world, but they were communicating in another realm that ordinary people could not understand.
"Know them, understand them, bring them together, and build a new society for them." Schiller's voice was soft and soft, almost becoming an ethereal breath: "Establish a new set of social rules, fill in the
All the humanity and shame they don’t have.”
"Let them think about their status and reputation in another society before harming ordinary people, so that they do not need to pour out their love and emotions in the process of killing ordinary people, but put these precious feelings in the process of killing ordinary people.
On top of a soul mate connection.”
"Let all their wisdom, philosophy and ideas not be thrown in despair to fools who cannot understand them, but let them exchange the joy of a soul-trembling moment with similar people who also have this spirituality."
In an instant, Batman heard a "buzz" sound, and a stream of blood rushed from his heart straight to his brain. He understood that this wonderful feeling that made his calm brain buzz, was called "understanding".
"You're crazy, but you chose it yourself. You're crazy, but you don't need help. You're crazy, but it doesn't matter. I'm crazy too."
"enough."
The muscles on Batman's lips trembled. He still stared at Schiller quietly, and then uttered one word: "...Joker."
Bruce in the theater narrowed his eyes and sighed morbidly: "Batman blocked his intuition and only communicated rationally, so it was only now that he discovered that Schiller was the Joker."
"How did he find out?" Ill asked himself again: "Because Schiller wanted to make him laugh. How did Schiller do it? He was comforting Batman."
Bruce frowned, then smiled sickly and said, "Yes, this doesn't sound like comfort at all. Who would say that the other person is a lunatic when comforting them?"
"But many times, the comfort people need is not 'You are sad, but I can help you', nor 'You are sad, but this is normal', but 'You are sad, and I am sad too'."
冺
"Too many people have said to Batman, 'You are crazy, but you have no choice but to do so.' There are also too many people who have said to Batman, 'You are crazy, but I can help you.' But what Batman wants is not
These."
"He was not forced, he chose by himself, and he did not need help. The misfortune in everyone's eyes was not his scars, but his weapons. Those lonely, dark, and incommunicable temperaments were created by himself.
,The purpose is to warn those criminals.”
"He doesn't need a soft embrace, he doesn't need someone to pull out his fangs with tenderness, and he doesn't need someone to remind him, 'You didn't turn on the light.' He's not blind."
"But what no one in this world can refuse is that I understand everything about you, and I know what determination you have taken and what path you have taken, and I have also taken the same path with you and moved forward side by side with you.
.”
In an instant, Bruce's hand on the armrest tightened, and the veins spread from his forearm to his fingers. After a while, he let go and said: "...and Schiller pushed me to the other road."
"Yes, it's precisely because he has walked this road himself that he doesn't want you to take such a road."
"Doesn't he need someone to stand by his side?"
"Understanding is always short-lived. Relief cannot be the motivation for anyone to move forward. Everyone is lonely when they go their own way."
Bruce took a deep breath, stared straight at the picture on the screen and said, "When I first met Schiller, many people said that we were very similar, including Gordon, Harvey and Victor."
"He is older than me and is my teacher. I should have followed his footsteps and embarked on such a path, but from the very beginning I had a hunch that in the past few years, he was not gradually getting closer to me, but...
By pushing me away, you are not looking for our similarities, but creating our differences."
"This is the fundamental reason why we have fierce conflicts. It's like a magnet that suddenly reverses its magnetic poles, causing the two sides that were originally attracted to each other to become mutually exclusive."
"Whether you like it or not, the self you see will once be your future. There is nothing wrong with this path, but neither Batman nor Schiller has reached the end. Since you have the opportunity to take another path, then
Why not use one more possibility to add a little chance of ultimate success?”
After the morbid words fell, Bruce took a long breath and gradually calmed down. He lowered his head slightly and said: "They are like two parallel lines, going hand in hand in one direction. We are like two intersecting lines, meeting and then parting ways."
"Understanding and taking care of each other while mountaineering, or standing on the top of two successful mountains and looking at each other, are two completely different relationships, but they are equally romantic." The sick tone finally became higher, as if chanting.
"You will become parallel lines with many people, walk side by side with them, and you will also become intersecting lines with many people, reflecting each other in different fields. If everyone is an isolated island, society and civilization will be countless isolated islands.
Mountains formed by parallel intersections.”
"You have passed the loneliest stage in your life, the stage where you are constantly peeking into yourself and looking for your social position, and you have begun to converge towards the mountain."
"And what Schiller did was to save you from having to build a mountain alone, and to use darkness and fear to make others stand tall and afraid to approach."
"That's what he did and that's what Batman is doing, but you've turned around and you're bordering the mountains."
In the midst of sickly whispers, Bruce turned his head and looked at the people sitting on the other side of the theater. The light and shadow of the screen flowed through their outlines, and the undulating lines were like mountains one after another.
All of them were once small islands in the vast ocean, and then they continued to gather together. Storms pushed them together, lightning rubbed away the incompatible edges, the sun made them grow upward, and the waves made them downward.
Take root.
Perhaps now, this is still not a majestic mountain, but another island, which came a little late, still rushes into the embrace of the mountains with joy and joy. The communication of words is like the blending of wind, and the outstretched hands are like mixed gravel.
冺
In this case, two lonely and dark mountains, facing each other under the moonlight, are just a landscape on the skyline.
The understanding and resonance between them is like the low sound of a horn blowing in the wind. No matter how wonderful the story recorded there is, it still cannot eliminate this young bat's urge to look back at the mountains behind him, and to see the brilliant lights.
The childish heart of thousands of lights.
Bruce's shoulders slowly relaxed, and the deep sense of empathy disappeared. He finally pulled himself away from the screen and went to see his companions who were also sitting in the theater with him.
The moment Bruce turned his head, Clark instantly noticed.
His gaze spanned the outlines of the crowd, the shadows of the seats, and met Bruce's eyes. This highest mountain among the mountains was always so tall, sharp, and as solid as a rock.
Clark saw Bruce showing a very weak smile. It was so weak that Clark thought it was an illusion caused by the light and shadow cast on his face, but this did not prevent Clark from showing him a bigger smile. Small-town boys never cared about illusions.
And lie, don't hesitate to give anyone a smile.
Illness also laughed, no longer so low and hypnotic, but with real fun and ridicule.
"The only way to get rid of father's power is not to look for any love other than family affection from your father. Don't look for friendship and understanding from your father. Looking for these will only make you powerful."
"Boys should play with boys, right?"
Bruce turned to look at him, but not with vigilance. His eyes seemed to be a little reluctant to leave, but he still said: "I'm sitting over there."
"Go ahead."
Bruce stood up with his hands on the armrests. Just when he was about to leave his seat with smooth steps, the sick voice sounded again: "Your seat will always be yours, just like the hole in the tower...
Welcome back anytime.”
Seeing Bruce's stiff movements again, he laughed sickly and lowly and said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it." Schiller looked down at the tie that was stained with red wine. He stood up and looked at Batman opposite him and said, "I'm afraid I have to take some time to tidy up my tie.
Image, and tidy up the room by the way. If you have any other questions, please feel free to call me."
Batman also stood up. He no longer stared at Schiller, but turned his eyes away and looked at Schiller's outstretched hand. Batman hesitated, but still gently flicked the switch on the inside of his finger.
The two hands were held together, and neither one fell down. Schiller stood beside the patio on the second floor, watching Batman leave, with a calm expression on his face.
Schiller began to sort out the items in the room. Although the house was a bit messy, it was very clean, or in other words, it was very clean for a house that had been vacant for several years and only needed a little cleaning before it could be moved in.
Schiller put all the messy collections together, and then began to select one by one. The audience in the theater looked at the pile of strange and weird things and began to express their opinions.
"No, this one is too ugly. Was this statue dug out of the Pharaoh's tomb? Why is it still covered in mud? I don't think Schiller would want it."
"Oh, my God, he put it on the left, which means he wants to keep it. Constantine, you guessed wrong."
"What? Don't you want this? I quite like orange, but it seems that Professor Schiller doesn't like bright colors very much."
"I like the cat sculpture. I think it would look good on the bookshelf."
Clark patted the seat next to him and said to Bruce, who had just walked over: "Come here, what do you think of the previous owner of this house? How come there are so many collections of different styles?"
"This was not left by the previous owner of the house." Bruce said as he sat down: "Batman stuffed it in overnight. It is a collection of the Wayne family."
Everyone turned to look at him, as if waiting for him to reveal the secret. Bruce shook his head slightly and said, "He is here to observe what collections Schiller left behind and which ones he put away when he comes again next time."
"A person's aesthetic taste can reflect a person's personality to a large extent. People with the same aesthetic taste often have more in common."
"Batman wants to know how similar Schiller is to him."