[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel":3,"chapter-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-10":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","My Life as a Mental Mentor in Marvel",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2322578,4544,"Chapter 10","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-10",10,"\u003Cp>Gordon unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, twisted his neck, relaxed his shoulders, then turned to look out the window at Gotham’s dark, rainy night—still cold and damp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His colleagues greeted each other and left the precinct; one said to Gordon, “Hey, buddy, you shouldn’t have taken that messy case in the first place—dozens of missing persons? You’re probably gonna be poring over files till dawn again tonight.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gordon smiled helplessly and said, “You said it—dozens of missing persons. I’ve got to give it my best.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After his colleagues had all left, Gordon brewed himself a strong cup of coffee—he planned to stay up all night.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The missing persons case in Mossen District was highly unusual: in past disappearances, even when hidden well, some victims’ bodies were eventually found—but of the 46 people missing from Mossen Street, not a single body had turned up anywhere in Gotham. That was abnormal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gotham had never been a city governed by law; its gangs were countless, and no seasoned gang member would bother cleaning up corpses—too much effort for no reward. They’d just toss bodies off rooftops. They knew it wouldn’t fool the police, but in Gotham, the police were nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Among the dozens missing from Mossen Street were people of every occupation, with no clear pattern—except that all were long-term residents of Mossen Street.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the time, Gordon was still young, just a low-ranking officer far from becoming chief. This case, no one wanted to touch—it was a hot potato—but ultimately, the morally upright Gordon took it on. He knew it was likely a thankless job, but he still intended to give it his all, to seek justice for the victims.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he stayed up late organizing files, nearly falling asleep, he suddenly felt movement behind him. He turned—and a massive shadow loomed over him. Gordon instantly reached for his waist—but his gun wasn’t there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man before him wore a tight black suit, had two pointed ears on his head, and draped a black cape over his shoulders. He was tall, nearly blotting out all overhead lights. Gordon said cautiously, “Who are you? Why are you in the police station?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You can think of me as a vigilante. I’m investigating the Mossen Street disappearances. I noticed you went there today—and yesterday too. You must be the detective in charge. I’d like access to the missing persons files.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gordon was about to refuse when the man added, “Of course, I have some leads I can exchange—or we could solve this case together.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Vigilante? Gordon thought. That’s absurd. No such person could exist in Gotham—or it wouldn’t be called the City of Crime.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gordon’s first encounter with Batman was unpleasant. They stood face-to-face in the precinct for a long time. Clearly, the newcomer Batman hadn’t yet mastered the art of leaving without finishing his sentence—he dragged out the conversation endlessly until finally, he grew impatient.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Batman realized he was terribly unlucky. Gotham had countless negligent cops—but he’d Pianpian  run into the most diligent one. Gordon was willing to die to protect those files. Batman didn’t want to hurt him, so he had no better option.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After clearing out the Gutter Gang, Batman was deeply shaken by the beggar incident. Though he ultimately saved the beggar, he reflected on his actions—beginning to abandon grandiose ideals and instead start with the simplest steps.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was the starting point of his superhero path: Mossen Street. Beyond the Gutter Gang, the district was far from peaceful. The missing persons count had reached a dangerously high number—there were only a few hundred permanent residents, yet over forty had vanished. Batman resolved to make this case the launch of his career.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And he certainly had suspects.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A university professor, awake at midnight, sneaking into a Gotham gang neighborhood—appearing without reason, disappearing without reason. Who else could be more suspicious?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Batman had considered confronting Jonathan Crane directly—but he knew he’d lose any verbal duel with the professor. He’d lost twice already. He decided he needed solid evidence before bringing him to justice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That day, Batman returned to Mossen Street. Unable to obtain the missing persons files from Gordon, he broke into the home of one of the missing, hoping to find other clues.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he climbed out the window, he saw Jonathan again—beneath a streetlamp down the road, holding a black umbrella, staring at the opposite wall. Batman spotted him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He noticed Jonathan was watching the spot where the beggar used to sit—but the beggar was gone. Batman had taken him to Gotham’s best hospital and paid for all his treatment. The beggar had lost both legs, but at least he was alive.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because the beggar had leaned against that wall for years, it bore a dark stain. Rain had pooled where he used to sit, reflecting the dim yellow glow of the streetlamp. Jonathan stood across the street, staring at that puddle, lost in thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young Batman finally lost his patience. He leapt down and appeared before Jonathan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Good evening, Batman. I remember you called yourself that last time—I’ll keep calling you that.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Batman’s eyes, hidden behind his mask, locked onto him. “Stop circling the issue. You know why I’m here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re here to be a savior. I know—you saved a poor beggar.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Did you commit the Mossen Street disappearances?” Batman asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jonathan shook his head. Batman said, “You’re the only outsider here—and you have no motive for being here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jonathan said, “Clearly, you’ve already reached your conclusion. Why ask me? You always turn what you’ve already decided into a question to ask others.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you get the answer you want, you’re satisfied. But if you don’t, you become furious.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If I say I’m not the killer, you’ll be furious—but your anger won’t come from justice. It’ll come because I didn’t give you the answer you wanted.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You think you’re infallible, don’t you?” Jonathan asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I said—stop circling the issue. You’re the only one with suspicion...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before Jonathan could speak, a batarang flew past his neck. He’d underestimated his opponent—whether this Batman or the future one, though they didn’t kill, they routinely beat criminals senseless, even breaking legs before sending them to the hospital.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But clearly, this young Batman had skipped one step.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jonathan fell silent. Another batarang whizzed past his neck. This time, Jonathan didn’t dodge using spider-sense—he simply stared at Batman.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The batarang cut his neck, drawing blood. Suddenly, rapid footsteps echoed from the alley’s end—a voice shouted, “Stop!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Batman turned. Under the streetlamp, Gordon stood, pistol aimed at both of them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Detective Gordon. Hello,” Jonathan said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gordon, still holding his gun, walked slowly forward. “Put down your weapons. Don’t move.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jonathan spread his hands, showing he had no weapon. Batman tucked the batarang he’d been holding back into his belt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Gordon drew closer, he saw Jonathan’s neck was bleeding—blood streamed down his shoulder, soaking his shirt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jonathan said, “Batman, you made a mistake. You said I’m the only suspect—but this detective clearly doesn’t think so.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The only two people here without motive? Me—and you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m here to investigate the disappearances,” Batman said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So am I,” Jonathan replied. “But clearly, you’re no nobler than I am—we’re both not police. Only Detective Gordon has the authority to do this.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ll find the evidence,” Batman said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you need evidence too, what’s the difference between you and the police?” Jonathan suddenly asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Batman was speechless. He’d assumed Jonathan would demand evidence. He knew that although Jonathan appeared where he shouldn’t, that alone couldn’t prove guilt. He’d resolved to find traces proving Jonathan was the killer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Jonathan’s question struck the core. Batman thought: he’d always considered police useless because they demanded evidence—even if a murder happened right before their eyes, if they didn’t see the killer, they wouldn’t arrest the prime suspect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s how his parents died. No police gave a proper explanation. No one was punished. His parents were dead—and no one paid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought: if I need evidence too, why not just become a Gotham police officer?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if I don’t need evidence, and arrest anyone I want—what’s the difference between me and a criminal?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Batman regretted approaching Jonathan. Every conversation with him shook him—this psychological and ideological instability was the most terrifying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After every encounter with Jonathan, Batman had to retreat and reflect for at least two or three days—work through Jonathan’s question, find his own answer, rebuild his conviction—before he could go out again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It felt just like college: the professor posed a question, the student thought, wrote a paper, and the next meeting brought not just a grading—but a new question, one after another, with no end.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Jonathan, too, was silently complaining: this Jonathan Crane really was relentless. After Jonathan stole most of the fear toxin, it hadn’t slowed his research—he’d only grown more unhinged, kidnapping more test subjects. Now Jonathan had to stay up late cleaning up this mess.\u003C\u002Fp>",1480,"2026-06-20T16:39:12.484Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","70247c4d8ff0ac430cad0572509a9c13fa4f18923588f89777ab8844f342bda0","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-11","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-9",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-cover.jpg"]