[{"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-16":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},2322584,4544,"Chapter 16","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-16",16,"\u003Cp>“You’re saying that after days of stakeout, the biggest problem you found was… he might steal electricity?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nick Fury stood in the SHIELD office, holding a report and asking Coulson.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Coulson knew this report looked exactly like something written in a hurry after a hangover the day before—its conclusions were barely a bottle of whiskey away from nonsense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nick Fury held the report, took a deep breath, opened his mouth, then paused for a moment, clearly at a loss for words.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He said: “I’ve never agreed with SHIELD’s agent rating system, Coulson. I think you’re the strongest argument against it, aren’t you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uh…” Coulson awkwardly rubbed his hands. “We didn’t observe nothing—we found a possible tunnel beneath his clinic…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I really should’ve had Nurse Jane give you a breathalyzer, Coulson,” Nick Fury said. “You wrote here that ‘the target was frequently observed suddenly appearing elsewhere about a hundred meters from the clinic,’ and your conclusion is… there’s a tunnel under the clinic?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I know he might have teleportation ability,” Coulson said, crossing his arms and frowning. “But from every case we’ve encountered, teleportation always involves a landing moment. We placed hundreds of micro-cameras around, and not one caught anything abnormal.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nick Fury said: “Then add a few hundred more. He’s important to us right now, and he’s the kind of opponent hardest to handle—don’t let your guard down…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, in Professor Schiller’s apartment at Gotham University, he had just woken up and found himself hugging something fluffy. He looked down—it was Pikachu!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, what’s wrong? What time is it even?” Pikachu’s eyes were too sleepy to open. Schiller rubbed his own eyes—how did this rat end up here??\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pikachu, still half-asleep, glanced around, startled awake instantly, and shouted: “Where is this?! How did you bring me here?! Are you a human trafficker???”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller, folding his blanket, said: “Why don’t you explain first why you’re on my bed?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You dare ask me?!” Pikachu yelled. “Three-story building, and you only turned on the heat in your room! If I couldn’t pick locks, I’d be frozen solid by now!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, really?” Schiller felt no guilt. “Freeze-dried rat isn’t exactly a good idea.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So why are you here? Where is this?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“As you can see, I can time-travel,” Schiller said. “So I woke up here. This place is dangerous—if you wander off, you’ll be stewed within three minutes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Pfft.” Pikachu let out a dismissive snort. “You can time-travel? I can water-skip too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller wasn’t lying. Pikachu knowing didn’t matter—after all, it was just a rat. To these superheroes, its credibility was lower than a tape recorder. If it went blabbing to Batman, Batman would stew it first thing. Batman doesn’t kill people—but he doesn’t spare rats.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most Earth heroes trust non-human creatures hardly at all. Though Pikachu spoke like a human, even with a strange Canadian accent, this obviously genetically modified yellow rat was unlikely to convince any normal person—so Schiller wasn’t worried at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While Schiller made his bed, Pikachu scrambled around the room, sniffing everything, wrinkling its tiny nose and muttering: “Looks like you really do have some skills—this isn’t the original world at all.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the morning, Schiller went to class, carrying Pikachu in his bag—not because he wanted to bring it, but because if he didn’t, Pikachu would sneak out and get stewed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pikachu kept poking its head out of Schiller’s bag, and Schiller pushed it back down several times. In the afternoon, he placed the bag on the psychologist’s desk, pressing Pikachu’s forehead: “Listen—even if I don’t care if others see a weird yellow creature in my bag, you’ve got to understand what I told you about superheroes. Every single one of them treats ‘meddling’ as their life creed. Everyone will want to study you, this yellow rat—especially…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Schiller spoke, the psychologist’s door suddenly opened. Bruce said: “Professor, I…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stepped in and saw his professor pressing a strange yellow creature’s forehead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pikachu jumped in shock and instantly scrambled into Schiller’s arms. Schiller pursed his lips, glanced at Pikachu, then at Bruce, and said: “If I told you this was a new albino mole species… would you believe me?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re going to make up another lie, aren’t you?” Bruce crossed his arms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pikachu bared its teeth at him. Schiller clapped a hand over its mouth. “What do you want, Mr. Wayne?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce stepped forward. “Actually, I’m sorry… I’d like to invite you to Wayne Manor for a visit…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An invitation to Wayne Manor?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What kind of self-surrender invitation is this?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce clearly felt awkward, because Schiller knew his true identity, so he couldn’t tell whether to act as Bruce or Batman. And this Batman wasn’t yet the cold, distant figure he’d become—he still actively cooperated with Gordon—so Bruce was in a state of deep confusion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller sensed a hint of it through telepathy. He tapped the table and said: “I can tell you’re conflicted, Bruce. Sit down.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You were doing well before. Bruce isn’t Batman—he’s just a playboy with no discipline, who loves bars and alcohol, surrounded by beautiful women. Batman is the exact opposite…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce sat down, pressing his fingers against his temple. “I don’t see the point. I don’t think I can fool anyone.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce wasn’t stupid. Gotham had only one man with his wealth—only he could afford to build Batman’s gear. He didn’t think criminals were idiots who wouldn’t realize he was Bruce Wayne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even from physique alone, it was obvious. Bruce chased women—he didn’t wrap himself up tightly every time. Figuring out some physical details wouldn’t be hard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially since Schiller had seen Bruce sneak out at night countless times, always with different women. Half the Nightingale cheerleading squad had slept with him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller suspected that many comic-book villains with genius-level intellects weren’t truly fooled either. The deduction wasn’t hard—but they still acted as if they couldn’t guess Batman’s identity, and there had to be a reason.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, it’s not really a secret—but if you want it to be one, sometimes it becomes your weapon.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you act like a secret matters deeply, others will believe it matters deeply to you. You fight to hide it—but if you reveal it at a critical moment, it proves your sincerity, even if it’s trivial.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller was referring to Batman’s later actions with the Justice League—to gain their trust, Batman removed his mask and revealed the secret everyone already knew: Batman was Bruce Wayne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet everyone still trusted Batman more, because he had always acted as if the secret mattered deeply, and he was willing to reveal it for his allies. That made him believable—even though anyone with half a brain could guess it. What mattered wasn’t the secret—it was the attitude!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce rubbed his chin and followed along: “Like if a criminal tried to blackmail me with it, I could calmly set a trap…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Enough, Mr. Wayne,” Schiller glanced at his watch. “Psychological counseling time is up. Regarding your invitation, I’ll consider it carefully once I receive the formal invitation.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce didn’t understand why Schiller needed to “consider carefully.” In America, a verbal invitation meant a casual personal visit—not formal, just dinner together.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when Schiller mentioned an “invitation,” Bruce assumed he thought the verbal offer was too informal, too dismissive. So after leaving the counseling room, he ordered Alfred to prepare a formal invitation and banquet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What Bruce didn’t know was that for Schiller, being invited by Batman to his home was like being told: “Would you like to walk straight into a trap?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He needed far too much psychological preparation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even though Schiller knew this Bruce was far from the later Batman—his two identities hadn’t even fully separated—if this were the comic-book Batman, Bruce would just show up with a bottle of whiskey and say he’d introduce him to some beautiful women.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not act so serious and awkward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Schiller’s stereotype of Batman ran deep—he even suspected this was a setup by Batman to obtain his DNA. That was exactly the kind of thing Batman would do.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Also, though Bruce hadn’t said anything, clearly Pikachu, the yellow rat, had caught his attention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller grabbed Pikachu by the tail and lifted it up. “Did you see the man who just came in? That’s Gotham’s top dog. If you want to eat well and drink well, don’t piss him off.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pikachu flailed its tiny arms in midair, struggling. “Put me down! That guy was terrifying!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller pulled Pikachu close by its tail. “How do you know that?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Detective instinct!” Pikachu shouted. “You really should consider leaving this place—it gives me the chills. Couldn’t we go back to yesterday’s place? I’d even tolerate your strawberry jam!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller sized up Pikachu, convinced it wasn’t telling the truth.\u003C\u002Fp>",1451,"2026-06-20T16:39:12.484Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","48b4d7692f62b8f3754cc69af3aa7065941c9635461cb198b500194e372d0ac5","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-17","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-15",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-cover.jpg"]