Chapter 182 Arkham Daily Life (Part 2)

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As summer approached in Gotham, the few green plants began to thrive, and Arkham Psychiatric Hospital remained a peaceful place.

"Jack, I warn you! If you sneak into my office in the middle of the night again and paint the walls with nonsense, I will cancel your outdoor time for the week. Got it?!" Schiller scolded while Jack crouched in the corner, pretending to be deaf.

"I know Batman's back to school and is busy with homework, so he's not out there fighting criminals much. That doesn't mean you have to do these annoying pranks all the time!" Schiller continued.

Jack grumbled, "A bat doing homework? What's going on? Do I have to praise him for being a good boy who goes to bed on time?"

Schiller crouched down and said, "Okay, Jack, I admit you're a genius and naturally gifted, but that doesn't mean everyone is like that. Batman needs to attend classes, do homework, take exams, get a college degree, and manage his company while participating in the development of Gotham City..."

"Boring! Boring! Boring!" Jack yelled, "You'll kill him! You'll kill Batman! I'm going to save him!"

Schiller tried to reason with him, but Jack covered his ears and sang nonsense songs, acting like he didn't hear a thing. They were like two foxes in a mirror, neither trying to convince the other, just playing a game in their boring time.

But it all came to an end one night when Brand called Schiller from home.

"Come over quickly. That crazy guy with a smiley face painted on his face kidnapped someone and wants to negotiate with Officer Schiller," Brand said.

Schiller lay in his soft and warm bed at home, took a deep breath, and said into the phone, "No need. It's hopeless. Tear up the ticket."

He hung up the phone and went back to sleep. But within two minutes, the phone rang again, and Schiller answered, "Listen, Brand, if anyone ever says to you, 'Do you want to play a game?' 'Do you want to guess a riddle?' 'Do you want to truly live?' or anything similar, don't ask anything, don't say anything, just punch them and walk away."

Brand sighed, "Listen to me. Do you know who he kidnapped?"

"It's definitely not you; otherwise, you would be screaming," Schiller replied.

"He kidnapped the most expensive and advanced brainwave instrument worth nearly 200,000 dollars that was just delivered last week. He's holding a hammer less than 10 centimeters away from it now..."

"Sh*t, I'm on my way!" Schiller said.

Two minutes later, Schiller stood outside the instrument room, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Jack sat in the room, trying to put the brainwave detection helmet on but struggling to do so, his hair getting in the way.

Seeing Schiller, he grabbed a hammer and shouted, "Listen, cop! I have a hostage..."

Schiller pulled out a medical case and started writing on it while saying, "You're done, Jack..."

Jack muttered something and shook his head while sitting at the table. "There's nothing more boring than playing the most boring game with the most boring person in the world," he said.

With a sharp tear, Schiller tore off a piece of paper from the medical case and said to Brand, "He's cured. We'll do the discharge procedures tomorrow morning!"

Brand glanced at the paper and gasped.

The next morning, Jack confidently went to say goodbye to Copperpot and Evans, mocking Copperpot's plan for an ice restaurant and singing light opera for two hours in Evans' ear. Just as they were about to beat him up, he proudly presented the diagnosis book that allowed him to be discharged.

Then, with the gaze of the two intending to kill him, he ran out of the Arkham Hospital's gate, waving and whistling at the two figures in the windows under the sun.

However, before he even left the street in front of the hospital, more than a dozen luxury cars surrounded him and a group of gang bosses in suits warmly welcomed him.

Jack looked around and realized the situation was not good. He immediately wanted to escape, but was still taken and dragged into one of the cars.

In front of the window of the office of the chief physician at Arkham Mental Hospital, Brand watched the scene and said, "You actually gave him a bill that waives all medical expenses. Now, all the gang bosses in Gotham will be relentlessly seeking him out for information."

Brand looked up and down at Schiller and said, "Everyone knows that the chief physician at Arkham Mental Hospital is a vampire who picks at every bit of flesh. You deliberately showed him mercy, so they must think he's related to you or something. He'll be treated like a VIP by those gang bosses..."

Three days later, Gordon knocked on the door of Schiller's office. After he pushed the door open, he found Schiller writing at his desk. Gordon walked over and knocked on the desk, saying, "Professor, can you please get that lunatic out of here quickly?"

"He's hijacked the TV station five times in three days. He..."

Schiller had just finished speaking when the news anchor on the TV screamed and hastily ran away. The Joker's face appeared on the screen again, looking even crazier and more haggard. He said, "Someone please save me! Save this poor mentally ill patient!"

"That kind-hearted psychiatrist, are you there? Look at me, I'm crazy. I should be hospitalized for treatment..."

Then he started rummaging through his clothes and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper to show it to the camera. He said, "See this? It's the receipt for my health insurance premiums. I pay so much every year!"

"But now, now... sob, sob, I have a serious mental illness, but the only mental hospital in the city refuses to admit me, sob..." He began to fake cry in front of the camera.

Suddenly, he became manic and said, "Schiller Rodriguez! You're the most annoying person in the world! You let those gangsters swarm around me like flies! You know damn well that I think those people are the most boring in the world..."

"This life is hopeless!" The Joker fiercely opened his arms and said, "The world has turned black... despair! Despair! It's all despair!"

He hugged the camera of the TV and said, "Can you imagine? They come to me every day asking for money-making opportunities! It's torture!"

"Their mediocre and monotonous thinking tortures and abuses me!" The Joker gritted his teeth and said, "I burned their money and safes, and they applauded me. This is no joke!"

"They..." The Joker's voice suddenly sounded deeply helpless, "They scare me like ordinary people..."

His voice began to sound teary, "Luxury cars, fine wine, women, and money! Damn money! I'm surrounded by a bunch of lunatics!"

"I ran away, but they always find me..." The Joker cried really sadly, "Everyone is talking about these things. I can't believe this world has gone crazy..."

"Come and take me away! Take me back to the mental hospital! I'd rather argue with that stupid penguin or that tasteless opera singer than hear these disgusting topics again!!"

The Joker began to vomit in front of the camera. He seemed really sick, but before he finished vomiting, a gang bodyguard-like person rushed up and handed him a glass of water.

The Joker showed a "you all saw it" expression, then suddenly jumped up and pointed to the glass of water, shouting crazily, "See! This is how they torture me! Every day is like this... sob... Prepare me food, red wine, and money, bury me with these things..."

He gritted his teeth and shouted at the TV, "Schiller Rodriguez! You damn unscrupulous doctor! Can't you see that a mental patient is standing right in front of you?!"

"Just let me leave! Anywhere is fine! Quickly take me to a mental hospital, do you hear me?!!"

Schiller didn't even lift his head, and Gordon had a face like he had eaten a fly. He said, "I've said it before, even if everyone in Gotham is a little crazy, he's crazy to an extreme. Who begs to be admitted to a mental hospital..."

Just as he said this, he slapped his forehead and said, "Oh, I forgot, now all the gang leaders in Gotham want to come here."

"Okay, Professor Schiller, listen, I don't really care if you turn this place into a private prison for gangs, especially when it has some benefits for public security, but it doesn't mean you can let such a madman run around in the city."

He pleaded with Schiller, "After all, this is a psychiatric hospital, and there should be one or two real mental patients admitted, right?"

Schiller was still writing with his head down. After a while, he looked up, shook his neck, and said, "Okay, I can reluctantly leave him a bed."

"But, I don't recognize insurance companies here." After speaking, Schiller stood up from his seat and handed the note he had just written to Gordon, saying, "This is the repair cost for everything he broke before. As long as he signs this, I will let him be admitted."

Gordon took the note and glanced at the final price. He took a cold breath, but still said, "I will pass this on to him, but I don't think a professional truck driver would dare to sign such a large bill."

"You tell him, if he doesn't sign, I'll send this bill to Batman and tell him that his friend, the Joker Jack, owes me a lot of money and refuses to pay. He's a rotten person who doesn't pay his debts and is rotten to the core."

Gordon sighed and said, "Although I don't know what fun you guys have playing these role-playing games, it doesn't matter. Is Gotham short of such things?"

"Don't say this in front of that crazy guy just now. If he knows that you think his game is normal in Gotham, he will definitely prepare a huge surprise for you."

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