Chapter 1275: Lone Shadow Becomes Two (15)_1

The atmosphere in the banquet hall abruptly intensified, as the tension from being focused on one person seemed to dissipate. All eyes drew back, resting back onto their own secrets and concerns, revealing an aura of underlying anxiety and darkness.

"Oh, I see now!"

Shiller suddenly raised his voice a notch, visibly making the nearby individuals holding cups tighten their grip, as if startled by an alarm clock in a dream.

"I understand, the somewhat chaotic security situation in Gotham makes the Federal Bureau of Investigation less of a confidence booster. The FBI, too, does not particularly favor this city."

"However, I believe this is unjustified, as the FBI should treat every city in every state equally, and not neglect a particular place just because maintaining law and order there proves difficult."

"Of course, I also understand that you, the victims, out of your noble morality and sympathy, are not keen on burdening national security institutions. But it's okay, I maintain good relationships with some of my colleagues in Congress, the Defense Department, and the FBI, so I can definitely help in resolving your troubles…"

"Mr. Shiller." Bruce interrupted Shiller; his somewhat deep voice at this moment sounded pleasing to everyone's ears, as it put an end to Shiller's demonic murmurings.

"Indeed, this matter is serious." Bruce's words stunned the crowd, coupled with the two elderly men standing at the back of the stairs who were so anxious that they almost stamped their feet; they wished they could immediately rush up to him and cover Bruce's mouth.

"The FBI is a pain, wherever they go." Constantine made a dismissive comment, "Nobody likes dealing with them. If the FBI doesn't pay attention to this place, that would be the best, as then we can all live peacefully. But if they insist on coming here, it would be troublesome even if they found nothing."

"Don't think I don't know, those big families in Gotham more or less all have dirty money." Hal rolled his eyes and said, "Seashore City is the same. Any families of some power and status are entangled with smuggling businessmen. Do you know how much effort they put in to keep the FBI from noticing this place? If Shiller wants to invite wolves into the house, wouldn't they be anxious?"

"More importantly, the professor's performance has filled people with the belief that his influence in the Defense Department is indeed substantial." said Diana.

"Gotham may indeed seem like a lawless place, but after all, it's still under federation territory. It's not feasible for it to be fully autonomous. If the FBI can't handle Gotham, could they not oversee several ports that are in direct logistical contact with Gotham? If they pull even a slight snafu in those logistics, nobody would have it easy."

"It looks like this was Batman's plan in inviting Shiller to the party. He foresaw that March would set a trap for him. And wait and see, the drama begins." Greed's voice echoed with laughter.

"Especially the tragic experience Mr. March encountered..." Bruce suddenly shifted tones, looking at March, who was standing next to him. "This gentleman, with his sincere heart, wanted to participate in the construction of Gotham, but was subjected to this profound injustice. This is indeed a blatant grievance, and I believe he'd certainly need the FBI to come here and seek justice for him."

Shiller also turned his gaze to March's face. Before March could utter a word, Shiller interrupted, "My God, Sir, why didn't you mention this when we spoke yesterday? You really shouldn't have hidden such a critical situation from your psychologist as it could lead to a misjudgment of your psychological state."

"Of course, your condition cannot be regarded as a psychological disorder; it's only a common sense of anxiety that everyone here might exhibit to varying degrees."

"However, if this anxiety is stemming from the physical harm you've suffered, apart from diagnosing anxiety, I must also deduce it as a case of 'post-traumatic stress disorder'. My professional integrity compels me to do so."

"No, I'm not..."

March has already sensed the shift in the crowd's gaze. No doubt, having a touch of madness is rife in Gotham, or else one wouldn't be able to survive here.

However, developing a mental illness or even a post-traumatic stress disorder from being wounded by an assassin, so much so that you'd have to see a psychologist, is regarded as the lowest and most disdained form of mental illness. It indicates a lack of thought and personality.

March's teeth were clenched. He really wanted to say that he hadn't seen a psychologist, and had not permitted Shiller to disclose his condition, but as these words circulated in his mouth, he swallowed them back down.

Shiller was a psychiatrist, and if he visited Shiller, it wasn't for treatment, then what could it possibly be for? To arrogantly exhibit the thrill of an assassination before someone else? To expose himself right on the spot?

"Hahahaha!" Harley was already half-bent over laughing, as she jocularly said in between fits of laughter, "This fool has gotten himself caught up! To put Batman in an awkward position, he claimed he had suffered severe injuries from an assassin. Shiller ingeniously suggested it was due to fear of pain and death that he approached a psychologist. And now, he has no proper explanation, hahahaha!"

"What can he say? He can't possibly claim, 'Oh I killed a person, and I wanted to show off to someone else.' Though ironically, if he did say so, maybe the crowd here would start looking up to him a bit, hahahaha!"

Just as Harley said, the glances people were giving March had started to change. The bottom line in Gotham was, you can't show weakness.

In the dark forest where the weak are prey to the strong, you can seek medical help for your madness, anxiety, confusion and incomprehension, but you absolutely cannot seek it out of fear.

Slowly, March noticed that the contemptuous glances were subtly morphing into a different emotion, that was greed. What would happen when a flock of starving wolves find out that within them lurks a sheep disguised in a wolf's skin?

Mr. March felt that the bright lights could no longer provide him a sense of security as pairs of eyes, bright as torches, lit up in the dark night, greedily staring at the lamb that had exposed its own weakness.

"Cough." The gradually strange atmosphere was interrupted by Bruce's soft cough. He stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder with Shiller, then turned to look at him. Shiller also turned to him.

March was completely excluded from the two of them, clearly another signal. In this conversation, March had lost all of his initiative, only one step away from being kicked out.

"As a friend of Mr. March, I sympathize with his experience. He was hurt within Wayne Enterprises, and that is my fault." Bruce lowered his head, appearing remorseful.

"Honestly, I was a bit surprised. When he was upset, he didn't come to me first, but found you."

"I was actually quite surprised myself." Shiller nodded lightly and said, "I just got to Gotham, and I already have my first patient. Gotham isn't as unwelcoming as people believe."

"They're mocking March as a traitor," Bruce explained from within the theater. "When something goes wrong, he doesn't discuss it with his own people first, but looks for a stranger. A stranger that just arrived and is not known by anyone. He even revealed what was happening within Gotham. He's a thorough traitor."

"Sometimes, I don't understand you Gothamites, always treating each other as enemies, fighting to the end, but you hate it when outsiders interfere with your infighting. In some aspects, you're inseparable, even closer than allies," Clark expressed his feelings.

"Hit the nail on the head," Constantine commented, "You can't say you've seen true madness until you've been to Gotham."

On-screen, with Bruce and Shiller going back and forth, one playing good cop, the other playing bad, they didn't mention March by name, yet every word was about him. They painted March as a coward, a traitor who turned to others for help at the slightest scare.

In the end, March couldn't stand being in the center of the room. He gritted his teeth and found a clumsy excuse to leave.

After he left, the disdain for him deepened as under such circumstances, he shouldn't have found any reason to leave. He could have just spilled some wine on his clothes and excused himself.

Just like Diana had commented, there was a sense of discomfort about March's actions that didn't align with his words, and the onlookers all plainly felt this at that moment.

"A beautiful combination." Morbid finally spoke, "But it's not over. Batman needs to deal with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He can't resist, but he can't accept either. It must all be reasonable and proper."

"Regarding the Federal Bureau of Investigation, I think we can reconsider." Bruce swirled the wine in his glass, didn't lower his voice and sounded confident. "Of course, I believe in their capabilities, but don't you think it's redundant to send agents here?"

"Oh? Do go on."

"You're a professor at the Intern Special Agent Training Academy, and have worked there for many years. This means that the current elite agents of the Federal Bureau of Investigation are all your students. Since the teacher is already here, why add more to it?"

A round of applause came from the back of the theater. Greed bowed his head, smiling and clapping. Everyone admitted that the response was reasonable and proper.

It put Shiller in a high position, making it hard for him to refuse arrogantly. It also offered a logical trick, shaping the teacher's ability as the sum of the students' abilities, stressing that the teacher must be greater than the students, eliminating the need for the student-agents to come here.

After all, according to this logic, if a teacher who has taught so many agents is here, and if the teacher can't handle it, what use would the students be?

"Professor Shiller, as I said before, people's attention to mental health is a sign of social progress. I think everyone should pay attention to it, especially myself."

Bruce suddenly changed the subject, but Shiller understood his implication. He stepped forward, looked into Bruce's eyes and said, "Yes, Mr. Wayne, may I have the honor of receiving your business card? So when you have doubts related to psychology, you can remember our conversation today."

Without a word, Bruce turned and took a business card from his special waiter, and handed it over to Shiller. Shiller accepted it quietly and put it into his suit pocket.

Shiller once again tapped his wine glass lightly against Bruce's, took a sip of wine, and this time, Bruce also picked up his wine glass to drink.

As they raised their glasses, the wine flowed to one side of the glass. Through the blurry glass and the clear, shimmering wine under the light, they both looked at each other.

And at the same time, they both saw in each other's eyes the joy of the victory from a perfect cooperation with a close friend, as well as the calm killing intent beneath the undercurrents of several clashes with a mortal enemy.