In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group

Chapter-8 | He's not Batman yet...

On a morning when Gotham City was still full of smog, Schiller stretched his waist and sat up from the bed. He had just settled down in Marvel, and after a few days of leisure, he discovered another appearance near his psychological clinic. Agent of SHIELD.

Those people are like sticky candy that can't be thrown away! Not just ordinary people, even Stark, the richest man in the world, is still annoyed by them but can't do anything about it.

[ShaneFreak: Is Wakanda's King wealthiest or Tony ?]

But Schiller is different. When Gotham was annoyed by the young Batman, he could pat his ass and leave, and go to Marvel to hide. Now that he is being targeted by agents in Marvel, he can choose to leave again. Go to Gotham and hide!

The agents of SHIELD had absolutely no idea how Schiller disappeared. He left no trace, neither train tickets nor plane tickets, nor was he seen at any intersections. This made Nick Fury even more determined that Schiller was by no means an ordinary person.

When Schiller returned to the DC world, Jonathan, the scarecrow of the future, did not find its fear gas stolen. This is because Schiller was not greedy. He only took a small sample from the 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 low-level gangsters. He doesn't need any high-tech equipment to spray these poison gases. All he needs is a spray bottle, spraying the concentrated fear gases onto the noses of ordinary people. After all, those gangsters can't have the same reaction ability as Batman.

When studying this poisonous gas, although Schiller did not have any systematic chemical knowledge, he knew how to make proper use of it. As well as spraying it as a weapon at others, Schiller discovered that the original fear poison was not pure. Apart from inducing fear, it can also induce some other negative emotions. This is really good news for a psychiatrist. After all, if the patient is still unwilling to confess his inner emotions, then treatment cannot continue.

Schiller discovered that he could spray fear gas diluted hundreds of times on his body as perfume. It may be caused by the system in some way. This poison gas has no effect on him, but it can make people close to him feel as though they are infected with a small amount of negative emotions.

Yes, Schiller intends to use this trick against the inexperienced Bruce, aka Young Batman.

The current Batman is not the master of the future. Bruce is still too young. He has just traveled the world and learned all the skills. Bruce is eager to start his revenge plan. He puts on the original version of the Bat suit and wants to take on gangsters. In his eyes, spending hundreds of millions to build equipment is really simple. However, he didn't realize that it wasn't these foreign objects that really made him Batman but his heart for justice.

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

It was another ordinary morning. For Bruce, meeting Schiller on a rainy night was just last night. When Schiller called out his real name, Bruce was not surprised. He knew that this person was out of the ordinary.

Maybe it was supernatural power, maybe it was magic. As he traveled the world, he saw many such people. He also knew that this world was far from being as simple as ordinary people imagined, and there are many incredible forces watching over it.

Bruce knocked on the door of the psychologist again, but what replied was a steady but muddled voice saying, "Please come in".

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

Batman hates mystery and nihilism, and so does Schiller. Schiller's attitude might mean that instead of continuing to hide and shirk, he will tell Bruce what's going on.

Bruce sat opposite Schiller again. Bruce said, "Professor, it seems that you are in a pleasant mood today."

"Mr. Wayne, it seems that you are not in a pleasant mood today." Schiller said, "I thought you would come and pour me a cup of coffee as you did on the first day."

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

Bruce was silent for a while, but got up and started to make Schiller a cup of coffee.

Schiller was just intrigued that it would be interesting to drink coffee made by Batman himself. Bruce assumed it was a test, or a mental interference technique, using words to make the other person do what he wanted. Well, thinking about it this way, it may indeed be more in line with Schiller's character, a mad doctor obsessed with psychology and psychiatry.

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

"Why were you there last night?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"If you want to hide it, you should have made yourself a mask last night, instead of choosing to deny it now after I see your face."

Putting his coffee cup down, he made a crisp sound on the table and said: "I won't deny you saw me last night. I'm asking why you have so much wealth and don't donate it? Rather than doing some charity, wearing ridiculous tights, when it's raining, go to the streets of Gotham City and compete with some gangsters."

Facing this question, 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 rescue, but revenge."

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

"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 in this world. It's just that some people don't realize that the strong desires in their hearts can be reflected. People always think that they hide their hearts well, but in reality, this is not the case."

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

"And then use them to get revenge on criminals?" Schiller asked. "Obviously you're taking it all too easily, Bruce. Maybe your motive is revenge, but if you use it as your motivation, then it will be just like last night."

Schiller, making a falling gesture, explained:

"When I returned home last night, I added a cape to my bat armor, and I plan to design a belt…"

"You know those things are not the point, you can put an iron fist with thousands of kilograms on your hand, you can put a motor on your boots that can make you leap to the moon, you can even design yourself a pair of wings to fly to any planet in the solar system, you can do it, Bruce, I believe you can do it."

"But these are not enough, far from enough."

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

Schiller sighed. Obviously, Batman, who has not met the Joker, can't imagine how an unarmed criminal, an ordinary person who only knows a little acrobatics and fighting skills can defeat a proficient person. There have been hundreds of superheroes from all over the world who have learned a wide variety of fighting skills.

Schiller felt that no matter how he instructed the current Bruce and the future Batman, he could only be regarded as an associate professor in Batman's life. What really taught Batman everything was actually his nemesis, the Joker.

And now, the clown should still be living a very ordinary life in a circus.

Although the current Bruce is still very arrogant, he asked Schiller to study psychology, because he had learned various skills all over the world. Humility, studiousness, and arrogance do not necessarily have to be at odds.

Schiller said: "The same sentence, of course you can study psychology, you can have everything in the textbook, you can come to my class, go back to endorse, write homework, write papers, then final exams. I am a professor, I will not stop any student from studying."

"You know that's not what I want to learn…"

"Then what do you think?"

"Your kind of… special ability." Bruce gestured, and he said, "I have seen many such people all over the world, and they have special abilities that ordinary people don't have…"

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

Bruce pondered for a while, he pursed his lips, and obviously did not believe it, but Schiller had nothing else to explain to him - the young Batman was obviously too immature, he was too straightforward, too impulsive, and always expected a result.

And he seemed too impatient. His impatience became even more intense after the failure of his superhero career. Obviously, he felt that if he could learn skills similar to mind reading from Schiller, he would be able to deal with criminals more easily. Instead of being pushed downstairs by several gang members and falling to the ground in a daze.

He hadn't figured out at all what caused his failure.

Bruce reached out to Schiller again without success. Schiller just told him, or even threatened him, that he had better study hard, finish all the courses, and get a stellar grade on the final exam.

And Bruce obviously didn't hear a word.

In the evening, Schiller ventured out again. He returned 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 filled.

Schiller was not proficient in any chemical knowledge. He has no way to improve or modify this special gas. He can only put them into different containers, or perform some simple dilution.

He can scare Batman with these fear gases, but there's one more thing he can do.

Soon Schiller reappeared in the Mawson neighborhood. He knew that Batman would come back again. Bruce was such a person. Wherever he fell, he had to get back up again.

The entire Mawson neighborhood is not particularly large, with only six alleys. The building where Bruce fell down happened to be the first alley in the Mawson neighborhood, where there was a nightclub, which was controlled by the Gutter Gang.

The Gutter Gang is just a local gang in Gotham, because there's a Gotham gutter on the edge of Mawson's block. Because the gutter gang is known for throwing dead victims into the gutter, the water in the ditch also became more and more foul. Therefore, other gangsters started using it as a reference to the Gutter Gang, which made them 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 who smoked upstairs in a nightclub. Batman used his fighting skills to solve most of them, but he lacked actual combat experience. A handful of lime was sprinkled in the eyes, and then he stumbled downstairs.

The initial Batman had no assistants, and his equipment was immature. It is not surprising that he would capsize in the gutter, but the Gutter Gang did not have such good luck the second time. Schiller leaned against the wall at the end of the Mawson block for a while, and heard frightened cries coming from the nightclub. Soon the night was quiet, and a local gangster who no one would care about disappeared into Gotham just like that.

Batman walked out. Obviously, his condition was much better than last time. He lowered his head and seemed to be thinking about how to modify his bat equipment.

Suddenly, he remembered something, so he walked forward, turned a corner, to find the same beggar.

Indeed, he found the beggar in the same place again. She was still tightly wrapped in the quilt, shivering in the cold and humid air of Gotham night. The umbrella that Schiller had given him was nowhere to be found.

Batman handed him the money and said to him in a low voice: "There are no gangs in this block anymore. You are safe."

The beggar raised his head tremblingly, but Batman didn't see a trace of gratitude in his eyes. He could not believe that. The beggar stared at him with only hatred.

"Aren't you happy?" Batman asked.

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

"Because of the existence of the Shuigou Gang, there will be a steady stream of guests in that nightclub every day. Some guests take food in their hands. When they have only a few bites left to eat, they throw it away on the side of the road, so beggars can pick them up and continue eating."

"But now without the Gutter Gang, the nightclub can't go on. If there are no guests, it means there is no food."

"But a few hundred dollars is enough for him…"

"Yeah, you have the most advanced medical system in Gotham. You have a personal doctor, and you have a family health counselor. You haven't tried a few colds and fevers, and you don't even know that being frozen to the point where you can't stand up will be a disaster. What kind of feeling is that?"

"In your imagination, he can go to the nearest supermarket with a few hundred dollars, buy enough daily necessities, maybe find a hotel for a few nights, and then cure his disease…" Schiller dragged a long tone, then:

"But unfortunately, he couldn't even make the first step."

Batman crouched down. He tore off the quilt beside the beggar's feet and found that her entire lower limbs had been frozen blue and purple. It had been raining for several days in Gotham City, and her legs were soaked in the water and were already swollen.

Batman is well-versed in the theory of surgery. Even in the most prestigious hospital in Gotham, such a lower limb cannot be saved.

As he stared at the many dollar bills that the beggar did not hold, but simply let fall to the ground, he felt an acute sense of absurdity. He felt shame that suffocated him.

He suddenly felt that many negative emotions were irresistibly engulfing his heart. This made him want to roar. Batman felt that he had never messed up so badly. He stood up, staggered, and walked backward. After a few steps, he fell to the ground.

Obviously, a tragic story with an unexpected ending, and the negativity induced by a little bit of fear gas was enough to silence Bruce for a few days.

[ShaneFreak: Damn, I felt that!]