Chapter 1118: Schiller Is Not Working Today (Part 2)

Schiller's hand on the sofa armrest flipped over. He hesitated and opened his mouth, looked at Victor, and asked very tactfully: "Is the first lesson of your graduate students writing a thesis?"

"Oh, of course not." Victor replied in a light tone: "When I first met them, I originally just wanted to let them familiarize themselves with the campus environment and take them to visit the laboratory, and say some precautions. You know, this is what the first lesson should be."

"But my students said that they had already memorized these things by heart, and they could just start the project directly." Victor shook his head helplessly: "Working with a group of geniuses is like this. Being a teacher for a group of geniuses is even more stressful."

"Before starting the formal project, I assigned them a simulation project to see their level, so we had our previous first group meeting."

"Captain Cold performed very well, which was not beyond my expectations. I had an estimate of his level. Pamela's performance surprised me a bit. After all, she transferred to this major, but the results were actually not bad."

"What shocked me the most was Bruce. He also transferred to this major, but he did better than anyone else. Not only did he complete the project very well, but he also made innovations. His thesis was also written very well. Although it was just a simulation project and a virtual experiment, the data and inferences were very rigorous."

Schiller frowned at Victor and said: "Are you sure you are talking about Bruce Wayne??"

Victor looked at Schiller quite puzzled and said: "To be honest, every time you were troubled by Bruce's thesis in the office, it lowered my expectations for him. But I didn't expect that he could give me such a surprise!"

Victor concluded: "It is possible that your requirements are too high."

Schiller looked at Victor with an incredulous gaze and said: "But if you have read his masterpiece of psychology thesis, you will know how absurd what you just said is..."

"Then maybe he chose the wrong major." Victor shrugged: "When I was in college, I almost wanted to take the medical school entrance exam, but when I was memorizing books, I felt very painful, so I firmly chose the path of cryogenics."

"Maybe Bruce is like this too." Victor nodded and said: "I can understand him. If a person doesn't like a subject, writing a thesis is indeed a very painful thing."

Schiller tilted his head, pursed his lips, and asked: "Format? Punctuation?"

"No problem at all." Victor replied: "Even if I judge his format with the most critical eyes, I can't pick out any faults. He is the most rigorous student I have ever brought among all the first-year graduate students."

"I think you need to have a psychological check." Schiller looked at Victor and said seriously: "I suspect you have some kind of hallucination."

"Don't be like this, Schiller." Victor looked into Schiller's eyes and said: "As teachers, we must recognize the progress of students, feel happy for it, and give encouragement."

"The most worth discussing question is whether he is making progress, or if he is looking at people and serving dishes." Schiller curled his lips and said.

"No, the most worth discussing question should be, will the student's behavior pattern change because of the teacher's attitude?" Victor broke some more finger biscuits and then said:

"If the student knows that he will never get positive feedback from a certain teacher, perhaps he will lack some motivation to forge ahead."

Schiller sighed and said: "So, it's still my problem?"

"No, I think strictness is a good thing, but I know that I am not a serious enough person." Victor poured himself a glass of wine, soaked the finger biscuit in it, took a bite, and then said: "Every teacher has his own unique teaching style, and every student also has his own favorite learning style."

"Letting the teacher adapt to the student is not disciplined enough, but letting the student adapt to the teacher cannot achieve teaching according to aptitude." Victor took a sip of wine and then said: "This is why teaching and educating people is the most difficult thing in the world."

After Victor left, Schiller sat in place, frowning deeply.

After a long while, he patted the armrest of the chair with both hands and said: "Alright, this at least means that the treatment is effective, and I can also temporarily get rid of this trouble."

Schiller stood up from the chair. He just wanted to walk back to the desk when Mrs. Miller rushed in again, holding a small piece of paper, looking at Schiller and saying: "Professor! Your prescription separator is written wrong again! Do you want me to help you post it on the wall of the lobby downstairs?"

"No need!" Schiller stood in place and rubbed his brow. Mrs. Miller revealed a fake smile and said: "But I must praise you. This time, the drug names were all written correctly. Let me post it up. This is a rare progress."

"Don't say that, Mrs. Miller. I just returned to the doctor's work recently, and there must be an adaptation process." Schiller shrugged lightly and said: "Recently, I don't have any classes, so I can adapt well."

Mrs. Miller hummed and went out. Schiller walked back to the chair behind the desk and sat down. He unbuttoned his suit, looked up at the ceiling, and suddenly, as if remembering something, stood up and walked to the phone to dial.

"Hello, help me check, has a patient named Jonathan Crane been admitted recently?"

"Yes, is that so? Okay, which room is he in?... Okay, I know. Tell Brand not to check the room, I will go there for him."

After hanging up the phone, Schiller walked to the front of the glass screen wall and straightened his clothes. When he arrived at the room where Scarecrow Jonathan was, Jonathan was holding his coat with a look of disgust, dusting off the dust on it.

"Sorry, the hospital is still being renovated, so the dust is a bit heavy." Schiller pushed the door and said: "You can call a nurse to sprinkle some water."

Jonathan stood in place, looked Schiller up and down, and then said: "I guess... you should have defeated Batman again, and want to find some sense of existence here, right? Do you have nothing else to do?"

"I am a doctor, I am here to check the room. Judging from your wording, your condition has not improved at all. Do you need to increase the dosage?" Schiller raised an eyebrow coldly.

But Jonathan ignored him completely and said: "Don't play that doctor-patient role-playing game. You and I both know that we are the same kind of people. Do you think taking medicine can cure your illness? If not, it can't cure me either."

Jonathan shook his coat vigorously again and said: "We are all cold-blooded natural murderers. Oh, I said it wrong, you are the coldest among us... You should be glad that Batman doesn't read newspapers."

Schiller didn't care about his cold attitude at all. He smiled, walked to the chair by the window and sat down, put one leg on the other, put his hands on his knees, 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, his tone cold.

"At the beginning, we were all teaching at Cat Getan University and had all seen Batman. I chose to leave, and you chose to stay. It's not because your level is higher than mine, it's just because you are crazier than me."

"You and Batman are equally crazy." Jonathan put the folded clothes into the cabinet, sat on the edge of the bed, turned his back to Schiller, and began to organize the shoe cabinet. He continued: "Now it seems that you have defeated Batman again. Congratulations, you have successfully become the craziest lunatic in all of Cat Getan, and possibly the craziest in the world."

The content of what Jonathan said sounded like a compliment, but the tone revealed a thick sarcasm. But Schiller put one hand on the desk, leaned forward, approached Jonathan, and said: "Are you also angry because you don't understand the newspaper?"

Jonathan stood up, turned to face Schiller, spread his hands, and the muscles on his face twitched constantly. He said: "You lunatics! You abandoned me! And you still ask me if I feel angry?!!"

Schiller revealed a smile at him and then said: "We didn't abandon you. A doctor will never abandon his patient. But, the academic results have not been published. You can't expect the academic world to know your news through telepathy, right?"

"But this is not fair at all!" Jonathan shouted: "Why does only Cat Getan have a Batman? This makes all the serial killers here harder to achieve results than others!"

"But Batman didn't stop you from leaving." Schiller still looked at Jonathan with a smile and said: "I will give you a discharge certificate now. You can go to Metropolis or Star City. No one will stop you."

After speaking, his gaze gradually turned cold, looking at Jonathan, and said: "You are like a bad student who blames the difficulty of the questions when he can't answer them."

Jonathan snorted, but didn't answer, but put his hands on his knees and sat on the edge of the bed, sulking.

But Schiller walked over, stood by his side, patted him on the shoulder, and said: "Don't be angry. Otherwise, you can also learn from Jack and establish your own club."

"He is even crazier!" Jonathan shook his head and said: "I will go to be a law-abiding good citizen tomorrow! Let you lose a kind of person from this world forever!... No! I will go now!"

When Jonathan spoke, he kept shaking his head in one direction. He seemed completely unable to control this kind of movement.

His symptoms were somewhat similar to Schiller's, but different. But there was no doubt that what he said was the truth. They were all natural mental patients and could not be cured.

"Alright, stop making trouble."

Schiller lifted the hem of his suit, put his hand into his pocket, and then said: "Don't you just want to know the new code? I can tell you secretly, but you must not tell others, otherwise, we will both be kicked out of the academic world."

Jonathan widened his eyes immediately. He looked at Schiller with his eyes slanted to one side, but seemed not to want to look at him. Schiller kept his hands in his pockets, bent down, and whispered a sentence in Jonathan's ear.

Jonathan immediately revealed a joyful expression, and even his eyes slowly had a luster. He looked up at Schiller. Schiller put a finger on his lips and made a shushing expression.

When Schiller walked into the stairwell, he heard Jonathan open the door and shout to the nurse on duty: "Help me order a newspaper! Send it as fast as possible tomorrow morning! I can give double the tip, oh, no, it's triple, let that group of little bastards be fast!"

Schiller's footsteps paused. In the darkness, he shouted loudly:

"You have to say 'hello' and 'please'!"

"…Alright, hello! Please help me order a newspaper!"

In the darkness, a ray of light flashed across Schiller's lenses, and then, he slowly revealed a smile, walked quickly downstairs, and left. ===== CHAPTER 1119 =====