Chapter 1375: Call of the Stars (Part 1)_1

Rocket Raccoon followed Shiller into the principal's office at the Arkham Sanatorium, gazing curiously around as if assessing the delicacy of the space.

The room was quite large, with a light-coloured birch floor-to-ceiling window in the visitor area visible as soon as you enter, and a soft, light coffee-coloured sofa near the window brought a touch of modernism. However, the black desk on the other side, and the bookshelves behind it, lent a hint of British retro charm.

It was somewhat odd, somewhat chaotic, Rocket Raccoon thought, but undoubtedly tasteful and comfortable.

However, the desk seemed rather out of place - not due to the style, but because of the clutter. Various pens and notebooks were piled up as if they had just been dug out from a dusted warehouse.

As soon as Rocket Raccoon jumped onto the table, he tripped over two pens. He gritted his teeth, sighed, and said to Shiller, "This is quite a mess. As a doctor, can't you keep your office tidy at least?"

"It was tidy, at least before your arrival," Shiller glanced at the raccoon, and then at the animal hair that had just fallen on the reflective desk. Rocket Raccoon followed his gaze and scratched his ear, saying, "You're right, I've been a bit anxious lately and been shedding. Do you have any good pet shampoo?"

"You have a knack for using self-deprecating jokes to lighten the mood." Shiller picked up two of the pens and threw them haphazardly into a drawer, then arranged the books piled on the side of the desk, saying, "It's not a good habit. You think your dignity doesn't show in these aspects, that you don't care., But in the long run, you will become more and more insensitive to comments that hurt yourself."

"And then what?" Rocket Raccoon spread his claws and shrugged, plopping down onto the desk. "As you can see, I'm just a shedding raccoon."

"You're too pessimistic. Perhaps this has something to do with your years of wandering in the interstellar. All the lives you've encountered have been so vastly different from yourself, you couldn't find your peers. You've grown accustomed to being kicked around in the crowd."

Shiller pulled out another ballpoint pen and started doodling on a medical record, saying, "Your current attitude shows that you still have some energy left, but when that is depleted, you will become highly aggressive, unable to tolerate any banter, develop an explosive temper, and behave violently."

"And then, certain words associated with yourself will become taboo to you. Words like animal or raccoon will drive you crazy at the mere mention. This is a typical stress response from an intelligent lifeform after experiencing psychological abuse."

Rocket Raccoon opened his mouth, but Shiller spoke before he did, "This isn't your fault. You were created out of nothing, without any social education and no peers to imitate. You've been trying to fit into society but can't., this has frustrated you to the point of self-doubt."

"Because I saved your life and was friendly towards you, you still hold hope, even as you lower your dignity to joke and please me, hoping that I would not kick you away like others do. I indeed wouldn't do so, but your way of behaving is not the correct approach."

Rocket Raccoon sat on the desk, propping up his cheeks with his claws, his whiskers trembling as he looked at Shiller intently.

"Behavioural science is more like mathematics. Unlike the empathy required in psychological analysis of emotions, behavioural science needs understanding. The behaviour of intelligent life is like mathematics – the cause, expressions, and consequences only have one answer – when it's wrong, it's wrong, there's no grey area."

Rocket Raccoon suddenly felt at a loss but didn't know why he was embarrassed.

"Since you can remember, no one has ever spoken to you as rationally as I have, without any surprise about you being a talking raccoon, curiosity about your strange origins, or condescension towards animals. I would even discuss professional knowledge that less intelligent people might not understand."

"You don't know how to handle this kind of situation. If you were a human, I would judge that you aren't good at socialising. However, you're not a humanoid creature, you don't have your own society, so it's normal that you don't have social skills."

Rocket Raccoon clenched his fists, licked his lips, lowered his head and said, "What are you trying to say?"

"What I mean is, most of your current pain comes from trying to fit into other races' societies, but you always stand out. So you first resent their indifference, then loathe your species and identity, and then begin to deny your self-worth and purpose for existence. This is the typical 'outsider' syndrome."

"The correct way to handle this is to find your own peers first. Learn behavioral cues from your kind, establish your own society, and then practice your social skills in that context."

"Peers?" Rocket Raccoon tasted the word, looked at Shiller, and asked hopefully, "Are you referring to yourself?"

"I am not your kind and never will be." Shiller shook his head. He saw the disappointment in Rocket Raccoon's eyes and was not moved. He said, "During treatment, patients often focus too much on their psychologist, hoping that the psychologist will understand and care for them, and regard the psychologist as their kind."

"But in reality, psychologists are not the same kind as anyone. We simply identify the problem, analyze it, and provide solutions. It's not because I like the patients, but because that's my duty."

"If you misinterpret my actions to mean special affection, thinking you could find recognition here, then you're bound to be disappointed."

Rocket Raccoon lowered his head, his ears twitching as he said in a slightly disdainful tone, "How heartless, Doctor."

"But you haven't heard my advice yet."

"Wasn't that your advice just now? The nonsense you were talking about finding same kind and establishing a society?"

"Of course not, but don't dismiss it either. I know these may seem stale and mundane, like truisms, but if you could be a bit more patient to hear the prelude, I might be more inclined to like you, from a personal perspective." Shiller reached out and patted Rocket Raccoon's head.

"So what's your suggestion?" The voice of Rocket Raccoon sounded utterly hopeless as he shook his head vigorously and flicked his ears, "From the sounds of it, it doesn't seem like a good tune. I don't think I would like it."

"You should find animals who are as wise as you to be your partners; they are the ones who can truly understand you."

"That's easier said than done." Rocket Raccoon complained, grumbling with resentment, "Wise animals, do you humans count? Oh, right, you're far too wise. Compared to all the nonsense, the prelude just now seems much more melodious."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Rocket Raccoon looked a bit cautious as he watched Shiller rise, shouting at his retreating figure, "It's our personal time, you were just acting professional, why can't you do that now?"

As Shiller opened the door, he gestured for Rocket Raccoon to be quiet. But there was no one outside the door when he opened it.

Rocket Raccoon looked surprised, watching Shiller bend down to pick something up from the ground. When Shiller turned around, all Rocket Raccoon saw was a yellow flash of a tail.

"Long time no see, Pikachu. What, those Spider-Mans have dazzled you so much you forgot about your old friend?"

Shiller sat down with Pikachu in his arms. Pikachu flicked his tail and shrugged his nose, deliberately using a strange voice, "Well, don't even mention it. Dozens of Spider-Mans have broken my four game consoles within a month. I've never seen so much flashy game deaths in my life!"

"I guess, my little clinic has been destroyed and rebuilt several times, hasn't it?" Shiller said, rubbing Pikachu's cheeks with both hands. "After Peter messed up with the game, he liked to clench the controller, with pieces flying everywhere. I have no idea how many Spider-Mans who unaware of their own strength are there."

"Exactly! But I assure you, it looks pretty decent now. When will you go back and cook? I fancy some scrambled eggs."

"Are you missing me or the scrambled eggs?" Shiller rolled his eyes.

"Should I take that as you're jealous of the scrambled eggs?"

The two bantered back and forth, while Rocket Raccoon standing on the table was completely dumbfounded, looking at Pikachu's rich facial expressions, exaggerated body movements, and that rhythmic voice like a rap.

"Oh, my God, is that a raccoon?" Pikachu noticed Rocket Raccoon standing on the table only then. He looked him up and down, "This guy looks so bad, I thought he had just been stuffed a few hours ago."

"What did you say?!" Rocket Raccoon raised his tone. "Look at your brightly colored fur and those cumbersome long ears. I dare say if you squat in the children's toy area of the supermarket, you'll be snapped up in less than two minutes by those screaming little monsters!"

Pikachu jumped straight from Shiller's arms onto the table, walked in front of Rocket Raccoon with tiny steps, spun in a circle like a lightning bolt, and whipped his large lightning-shaped tail on Rocket Raccoon's nose.

"Ouch!!! Damn it, you're done!!!!"

"Come and see who's done!"

"Bang! Bang, bang!"

"Zzzzzzz—!"

Looking at the two little figures bouncing around his office, knocking many decorative items off the table, Shiller didn't get angry. Instead, he sat behind his desk as if waiting for something.

Suddenly, there was another knock at the door. Shiller raised his voice and said, "Come in", Gwen Spiderman pushed the door and walked in, and was immediately stunned by the scene inside as soon as she entered.

But in her arms, there was another little figure in red and blue, Spider-Pig, a well-known superhero in the animal kingdom who was bitten by a spider. As soon as he saw someone fighting in the room, he shouted, "Stop it all!"

Seeing that Rocket Raccoon and Pikachu showed no sign of stopping, Spider-Pig snorted, fired spider silk to the top of the table, kicked Rocket Raccoon, who was about to pounce, off with a flying leg, and then punched Pikachu in the face, sending him straight to the floor-to-ceiling window.

When Rocket Raccoon and Pikachu got up from the ground, they shook their heads in confusion. The three small animals looked at each other in surprise, all froze.

"Alright, gentlemen." Shiller came out from behind the desk, picked up a pen knocked to the floor due to the ruckus caused by Pikachu and Rocket Raccoon.

He squatted down and looked at the three little fellows, saying, "Although I don't have OCD, if I allow someone to disrespectfully destroy things in my house, it's because he is valuable. Do you think you are valuable?"

The three little animals swallowed at the same time. Then, they nodded as hard as they could as if they were about to snap their necks.

Looking down at them, Shiller revealed a satisfied smile and said, "Now, let's talk about what you can help me with."