Shiller's hand on the couch's armrest flipped, he hesitated and opened his mouth, looking at Victor, he asked delicately, "Do your research students start with paper writing in the first class?"
"Oh, certainly not." Victor answered cheerily, "When I first met them, I just wanted them to familiarize with the campus environment, show them around the lab, and point out certain things, you know, this is what the first class should be."
"However, my students claimed that they already knew all this like the back of their hands, and they could directly start the subject." Victor said with some helplessness: "Working with a group of geniuses is like this, and being a teacher to a group of geniuses, the pressure is even greater."
"Before starting the formal study, I assigned them a simulation subject to see their level. So, we had our first team meeting."
"Captain Cold performed very well, which was not surprising, I had estimated his level; Pamela's performance surprised me a bit, after all, she transferred to this major, but the results were not bad."
"What surprised me the most was Bruce. He also transferred majors, but he did better than anyone else. He not only completed the subject excellently, but also innovated; His paper was well written, though they were only simulation subject and virtual experiments, but the data and inference were very rigorous."
Shiller frowned at Victor and said, "Are you sure you're talking about Bruce Wayne?"
Victor looked at Shiller with quite a puzzle: "Honestly, every time you were in the office worrying about Bruce's paper, it lowered my expectations of him, but I didn't expect that he would give me such a surprise!"
Victor concluded: "Maybe your demands are too high."
Shiller looked at Victor with disbelief, and said, "If you've ever seen his grand opus in psychological studies, you'll know how ridiculous your words are."
"Then maybe he just chose the wrong major." Victor shrugged: "When I was in university, I almost wanted to apply to medical school, but when I memorized texts, I felt very painful, so I firmly chose cryogenics."
"Maybe, Bruce is the same." Victor nodded: "I can understand him, if a person doesn't like a subject, writing a paper is indeed a very painful thing."
Shiller tilted his head, pursed his lips, and asked, "What about the format? punctuation?"
"Absolutely no problem." Victor answered: "Even if I'm very picky, I can't find any faults in his format. He's among the most precise phrasers of the first-year research students I have taught."
"I think you really need a psychological examination now." Shiller looked at Victor, and spoke seriously: "I suspect you're having some kind of illusion."
"Don't be like that, Shiller," Victor looked into Shiller's eyes: "As teachers, we have to recognize the progress of students, feel happy about it and encourage them."
"The most worthy question of discussion is whether he is progressing or cheating." Shiller slightly curled his lips and said.
"No, the most worthy question of discussion should be, will the behaviour patterns of students change due to the attitudes of teachers?" Victor grabbed a few more finger biscuits, and then said,
"If the students know for themselves that they can never get positive feedback from a certain teacher, they might also lose some of their motivation."
Shiller sighed and said: "So it's my problem?"
"No, I think being strict is a good thing, but I know I'm not a very serious person." Victor poured himself a glass of wine, soaked a few finger biscuits in it, took a bite, and then said, "Every teacher has their own unique teaching methods, and every student has their own preferred learning style."
"If the teacher adapts to the students, it will lack discipline. But if the student has to adapt to the teacher, it won't naturally suit him." Victor took a sip of wine and then said: "This is why teaching is the hardest thing in the world."
After Victor left, Shiller sat in the same place with a deep frown.
After a while, he patted both hands on the armrests and said, "Well, at least it means that the treatment is effective and I can get rid of this trouble for a while."
Shiller stood up from the chair. He was about to walk back to the desk, when Mrs. Miller rushed in again with a slip of paper in her hand, she looked at Shiller and said: "Professor! You made a mistake in your prescription separators again! want me to put it on the wall in the lobby down there for you?"
"No need!" Shiller stood still rubbing the center of his eyebrows, Mrs. Miller smiled falsely saying: "But I must praise you because, this time, you got all the names of the medicines right, it would be nice to post it as a proof of rare progress."
"Don't say it like that, Mrs. Miller, I just returned to doctoring recently, and I need some time to adapt." Shiller shrugged gently and said, "I don't have any classes for a while, so I can adapt properly."
Mrs. Miller hummed, leaving the room. Shiller walked back to sit in his chair behind the desk, he unbuttoned his suit, looked up at the ceiling, and suddenly, as if remembering something, he stood up and started to call,
"Hello, could you please check if a patient named Jonathan Crane has been admitted recently?"
"Yes, he has. Okay, which room is he in? ...Okay, I got it, tell Brand he doesn't have to check the ward, I'll replace him."
After hanging up the phone, Shiller walked to the front of the glass partition, straightened his own clothes, and when he arrived at the room where Scarecrow Jonathan was, Jonathan was carrying his coat with a disgusted expression, dusting off the dust on it.
"Sorry, the hospital is still being renovated, so there's a lot of dust." Shiller pushed open the door and said, "You can ask the nurse to sprinkle some water."
Jonathan stood in place, looked Shiller up and down, and then said, "I guess... you must have defeated Batman again, wanting to find some sense of existence by coming here? Don't you have anything else to do?"
"I am a doctor. I'm here to make rounds. Judging from your words, your condition has not improved at all. Do you need to increase your medication?" Shiller coldly raised an eyebrow.
But Jonathan ignored him completely, instead saying, "Stop playing this doctor-patient charade. We both know that we are cut from the same cloth. Do you think medication can cure your illness? If it can't cure you, it won't cure me either."
Jonathan once again dusted off his coat and said, "We are all cold-blooded natural-born killers. Oh, I apologize, you are the coldest among us... you should feel fortunate that Batman doesn't read the newspaper."
But Shiller didn't mind his cold attitude, smiled, sat down beside the window, crossed his leg, put his hand on his knee, and then said, "How do you know he doesn't read newspapers?"
"He does read newspapers, but he doesn't understand them." Jonathan carefully folded his coat on the hospital bed and said in a cold tone.
"In the past, we both taught at Gotham University and have all met Batman. I chose to leave, but you chose to stay. Not because you're more skillful than me, but because you're crazier."
"You and Batman are equally insane." Jonathan put away his folded clothes in the wardrobe, sat on the bed with his back to Shiller, and started to tidy up the shoe cabinet. He continued, "Now you seem to have defeated Batman again. Congratulations, you've successfully become the craziest lunatic in the whole Gotham, possibly even in the whole world."
The content of Jonathan words sounded like compliments, but the tone was thick with sarcasm. However Shiller merely leaned forward, propping himself up on the table, and asked Jonathan, "Are you also angry because you can't understand the newspaper?"
Jonathan stood up, turned to Shiller with his hands spread out, and his facial muscles twitching, he said, "You bunch of lunatics! You abandoned me! And now you are asking if I feel angry?!"
Shiller gave him a smile and said, "We didn't abandon you. A doctor never abandons his patients. But, if your research results are not published, you can't expect the academic circle to be aware of your news through mind-sensing, can you?"
"But it's just not fair!" Jonathan exclaimed loudly, "Why does only Gotham have Batman? This makes it even harder for all the serial killers here to achieve results!"
"But Batman didn't stop you from leaving." Shiller continued to look at Jonathan with a smile and said, "I can give you a discharge certificate now, you can go to Metropolis or Star City, no one will stop you."
After that, his gaze turned cold, looking at Jonathan and said, "You seem like a bad student who blames the questions when unable to answer."
Jonathan grunted but didn't answer. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed sulking, his hands on his knees.
But Shiller walked over and stood next to him, gently patting his shoulder and said, "Don't be angry, or you could also start your own club like Jack."
"He's even crazier!" Jonathan shook his head and said, "I will become a law-abiding citizen tomorrow! Making sure you lunatics lose one of your kind in this world forever!... No! I will do it now!"
As Jonathan spoke, he kept shaking his head in one direction, as if he couldn't control this action.
His symptoms have some similarities but also differences with Shiller's, but it's indisputable that what he said was true. They were both born mentally ill, and incurable.
"Okay, enough with the tantrums."
Shiller tucked his hand into his trouser pocket, then said, "What you really want is to know the new password, right? I can tell you secretly, but you absolutely mustn't tell anyone else. Otherwise, we will both get kicked out of the academic community."
Jonathan slowly widened his eyes, he glanced at Shiller, as if he didn't want to meet his eyes. Shiller maintained the posture with his hands in his pockets, leaned over, and whispered a few words in Jonathan's ear.
Jonathan immediately showed a joyful expression, even his eyes slowly began to shine. He looked up at Shiller, and Shiller put a finger to his lips, making a quiet gesture.
When Shiller entered the stairwell, he heard Jonathan opening his door and shouting at the nurse on duty, "Order me a newspaper! Deliver it as quickly as possible tomorrow morning! I can give double the tip, oh, no, triple. Make those little bastards move quickly!"
Shiller paused in his steps, and in the darkness, he called out loud,
"Don't forget to say 'hello' and 'please'!"
"...Okay, hello! Please order me a newspaper!"
In the darkness, a flash of light reflected off Shiller's glasses. Then, he slowly revealed a smile, and without stopping, he quickly walked down the stairs and left.