Chapter 1250: Lone Shadow Becomes a Pair (7)

"The identity of Batman is the alarm bell you use to intimidate them and make them have scruples. You deliberately make yourself serious and silent, unpredictable, and uncommunicable. You turn yourself into an evil god, making all criminals walk in the dark as if walking in your country."

When Schiller said these words in a soft and psychedelic tone, it was like praying, and also like reading a book. Batman stared at him with more and more focus.

Until a certain moment, he suddenly realized, pulled himself out of that hazy connection, and looked at Schiller again, his gaze was deeper.

"Then, what about you?" Batman's tone also began to become psychedelic, as if although they were talking in the real world, they were communicating in another realm that ordinary people couldn't understand.

"Know them, understand them, gather them together, and establish a new society for them." Schiller's voice became light and light, almost becoming an ethereal breath: "Establish a set of new social rules to fill the humanity and shame they don't have."

"Make them think about their status and reputation in another society before harming ordinary people, so that they don't have to pour out their love and emotions in the process of killing ordinary people, but put these precious emotions on the connection with soulmates."

"Let all their wisdom, philosophy, and ideas not be thrown to fools who can't understand them in despair, but let them exchange the joy of soul trembling moments with peers who also have this spirituality."

In an instant, Batman heard a "buzz," and a surge of blood rushed from his heart to his brain. He understood that this wonderful feeling, which made his calm brain buzz, was called "understanding."

"You are crazy, but you chose it yourself. You are crazy, but you don't need help. You are crazy, but it doesn't matter, I am also crazy."

"Enough."

The muscles at the corners of Batman's lips twitched. He still stared at Schiller quietly, and then spat out a word: "... Joker."

Bruce in the theater narrowed his eyes. Morbid sighed softly and said: "Batman shielded his intuition and only conducted rational communication, so he only discovered that Schiller was the Joker until now."

"How did he discover it?" Morbid asked and answered himself again: "Because Schiller wanted to make him laugh. How did Schiller do it? He was comforting Batman."

Bruce frowned. Morbid smiled again and said: "Yes, this doesn't sound like comfort at all. Who would say the other party is a madman when comforting someone?"

"But many times, the comfort people need is not 'You are very sad, but I can help you', nor 'You are very sad, but this is normal', but 'You are very sad, and I am also very sad'."

"Too many people have said to Batman, 'You are crazy, but you have no choice,' and too many people have said to Batman, 'You are crazy, but I can help you,' but these are not what Batman wants."

"He is not forced to, he chose it himself. He also doesn't need help. Those misfortunes in everyone's eyes are not his scars, but his weapons. Those lonely, dark, and uncommunicable temperaments are created by himself, with the purpose of warning those criminals."

"He doesn't need a soft embrace, doesn't need anyone to pull out his fangs with warmth, doesn't need anyone to remind him 'You didn't turn on the light', he is not blind."

"But what no one in this world can refuse is, I understand everything about you, know what kind of determination you walked on what kind of road, and I also walked on the same road as you, moving forward side by side with you."

In an instant, Bruce's hand on the armrest tightened, and veins spread from his forearm to his finger gaps. After a while, he loosened his hand and said: "... And Schiller pushed me to another road."

"Yes, precisely because he walked this road himself, he didn't want you to walk on such a road."

"Doesn't he need to be side by side with someone?"

"Understanding is always short-lived. Comfort cannot become the driving force for anyone to move forward. When everyone walks their own path, they are lonely."

Bruce took a deep breath. He stared straight at the picture on the screen and said: "When I first met Schiller, many people said we were very similar, including Gordon, Harvey, and Victor."

"His age is older than mine, he is my teacher. I should have walked on such a road along his footsteps, but from the beginning, I had a premonition that in these few years, he was not gradually pulling me closer, but pushing me away, not looking for our similarities, but creating our differences."

"This is the fundamental reason why we have intense conflicts, just like a magnet suddenly reversing its magnetic poles, making the two sides that should have attracted each other repel each other."

"Whether you like it or not, the self you see would have been your future. This path is not wrong, it's just that Batman and Schiller didn't reach the end. Since you have the opportunity to walk another path, why not add a little chance for final success with one more possibility?"

After Morbid's words fell, Bruce let out a long breath and gradually calmed down. He lowered his head slightly and said: "They are like two parallel lines, moving forward in one direction, we are like two intersecting lines, parting ways after meeting."

"Mutual understanding and frequent care on the way to climb the mountain, or looking at each other from the top of two successful mountains, are two completely different relationships, but equally romantic." Morbid's tone finally became high-pitched, as if chanting.

"You will become parallel lines with many people, walking side by side with them, and you will also become intersecting lines with many people, shining together in different fields. If everyone is an isolated island, then society and civilization are the mountains formed by countless parallel and intersecting islands."

"You have already passed the loneliest stage of your life, the stage of constantly peeping at yourself and finding social positioning, and started to gather towards the mountain peak."

"And what Schiller did was to let you not have to become a mountain alone, using darkness and fear to make others look up to the high mountains and dare not approach."

"This is what he once did, and it is also what Batman is doing, but you have turned around and are bordering the mountains."

In Morbid's low murmur, Bruce turned his head to look at the crowd sitting on the other side of the theater. The light and shadow of the screen flowed over their outlines, and the undulating lines were like one mountain after another.

Everyone among them was once

Perhaps now, this cannot yet be called a magnificent mountain, but another island that arrived a little late is still cheering and rushing into the embrace of the mountain range. Verbal communication is like the blending wind, and extended hands are like mixed sand and gravel.

Since that is the case, two lonely and dark mountains, forming a pair of shadows under the moonlight, are nothing more than a piece of scenery on the skyline.

The understanding and resonance between them are like the low sound of a horn coming from the wind. No matter how wonderful the stories recorded within it are, they still cannot eliminate this young Bat's impulse to look back at the mountain range behind him, and the heart of a child who wants to see the brilliant lights and the bustling world.

Bruce's shoulders slowly relaxed. That deep sense of immersion disappeared. He finally pulled himself out of the screen to look at the partner who was sitting in the theater with him.

The moment Bruce turned his head, Clark instantly sensed it.

His gaze crossed the outlines of the crowd and the shadows of the seats, meeting Bruce's eyes. The highest mountain in this range was always so tall, sharp, and as firm as a rock.

Clark saw Bruce reveal a very faint smile, so faint that Clark thought it was an illusion caused by light and shadow cast on his face. But this did not prevent Clark from showing him an even bigger smile; the small-town boy never cared about illusions or lies, and he was never stingy with giving anyone a smile.

The Pathological one also laughed, no longer so low and full of hypnotic implications, but with a sense of genuine amusement and teasing.

"The only solution to getting rid of patriarchy is to not seek any love from your father other than familial affection. Do not seek friendship and understanding from your father; seeking these will only lead you to authoritarianism."

"Boys should play with boys, shouldn't they?"

Bruce turned his head to look at him, but not with vigilance; his gaze seemed somewhat reluctant to part, but he still spoke: "I'm going to sit over there."

"Go ahead."

Bruce used his hands to support himself on the armrests and stood up. Just as he was about to leave his seat with a fluid stride, the Pathological one's voice sounded again: "Your seat is always yours, just like that hole in the high tower... you are welcome back at any time."

Seeing Bruce's stiffened movements again, the Pathological one laughed low and said, "Sorry, I didn't mean it..."

"... Sorry, I didn't mean it." Schiller looked down at the tie splashed with red wine. He stood up and looked at Batman opposite him, saying, "I'm afraid I'll have to spend some time tidying up my image, and tidying up the room as well. If you have any other questions you'd like to consult on, feel free to call my phone."

Batman also stood up. He did not continue to stare at Schiller but looked away, watching Schiller's extended hand. Batman hesitated for a moment, but still gently flicked the switch on the inside of his finger.

The two hands shook together, and neither side fell. Schiller stood by the atrium on the second floor, watching Batman leave, the expression on his face very calm.

Schiller began to organize the items in the room. Although this house was a bit messy, it was clean—or rather, it was clean for a house that had been vacant for several years; it only needed a little cleaning to be habitable.

Schiller put all the messy collectibles together and then began to pick them out one by one. The audience in the theater looked at that pile of strange and curious things and began to express their opinions one after another.

"No, this one is too ugly. Was this statue dug out of a pharaoh's tomb? Why is it still covered in mud? I don't think Schiller would want it."

"Oh, my god, he put it on the left. This means he wants to keep it. Constantine, you guessed wrong."

"What? He doesn't want this one? I actually quite like orange, but it seems Professor Schiller doesn't really like bright colors."

"I like that cat sculpture. I think it would look good on the bookshelf."

Clark patted the seat next to him and said to Bruce, who had just walked over, "Come here quickly. What do you think is up with the previous owner of this house? How could there be so many collectibles of different styles?"

"These weren't left by the previous owner of the house," Bruce said as he sat down. "They were stuffed in by Batman overnight. They are the Wayne family's collection."

Everyone turned to look at him, as if waiting for him to reveal the secret. Bruce shook his head gently and said, "He did it so that the next time he comes, he can observe which collectibles Schiller kept and which ones he put away."

"A person's aesthetic taste can largely reflect their personality. People with the same aesthetic taste often have more in common."

"Batman wants to know exactly how similar Schiller is to him."