Chapter 254: Campfire in the Snowy Night (IV)

Ever since the incident where Cat Getan was frozen over, the city's climate had begun to cool. Summer hadn't been gone long before the temperature plummeted. By this morning, the fine drizzle had turned into sleet. As Schiller arrived at Arkham Hospital for work, he placed his umbrella by the office door and sighed.

When Mrs. Miller walked in with a kettle of hot water, she glanced at the umbrella leaning by the door and said, "Dr. Rodriguez, why are you still using that broken umbrella?"

Schiller took the kettle and poured himself some water, shrugging. "It wasn't too badly damaged before, so I had someone reinforce the frame. It was still usable. Who knew that Cat Getan wouldn't just be raining, but hailing these past few days, so..."

His gaze drifted past Mrs. Miller to his umbrella. It was quite obvious that one of the ribs was snapped; even without opening it, the dent was clear.

Mrs. Miller, who had been a head nurse before retiring and being rehired by the hospital, was now the grand housekeeper of Arkham Asylum. She was a somewhat gaunt, elderly woman, but she was in high spirits.

She reached up to tighten the wool shawl around her shoulders and said, "The weather lately is getting stranger and stranger. It's hailing today; maybe it'll be snowing tomorrow. I'll have someone come by later to light the fireplace."

"Oh, Mrs. Miller, you're always exaggerating. That's still a long way off," Schiller said, taking a sip of hot water.

He then pulled out his schedule and asked, "Who is the first patient this morning? Do I have any that need the ward?"

"I don't think so," Mrs. Miller replied, shaking her head. She picked up a notebook from the side and looked at it. "This morning, you have a follow-up for Mr. Oswald Cobblepot, lasting about two hours. After that, there's Anthony and Ms. Scott from the third floor, also follow-ups, totaling two hours. So, I'll come by at 12:00 PM to collect the case files and records..."

Mrs. Miller snapped the notebook shut and said, "The afternoon is for private time. Your two friends have already made appointments. Is there anything you need help with regarding that part?"

"No, thank you. Oh, right, I have a friend coming over tonight, but he's calling my private line..."

Mrs. Miller put the notebook back on the bookshelf, looking somewhat helpless. "Dr. Schiller, you must know that generally speaking, the psychiatric hospital does not allow entry to those without an appointment. Appointments must be made by calling the hospital a day in advance. If they contact you via your private cell phone, it should be at least two days in advance..."

"Yes, I know, Mrs. Miller, but the situation with this friend is a bit special. If I don't allow him entry, he might go to a television station and hijack a camera."

"Fine, I can make an exception this once, but please remember to remind him that he must call the hospital to make an appointment next time. Otherwise, if any issues arise, the hospital cannot be held responsible. Dr. Schiller, this is for your own good as well."

"Alright, thank you."

Hot water poured into the cup with a soft 'hiss', and a thin wisp of white steam rose up. Schiller took a sip of hot water, and as he set the cup down, he looked at Cobblepot's face through the steam.

He looked much better than his previous haggard state. Although his cheeks were still sunken and his eyes hollow, one could tell his hair had been groomed and his complexion was much ruddier; his lips were no longer cracked.

Schiller flipped through his medical records and said, "Although I've told you many times, I must emphasize again: your current living environment is very detrimental to your recovery. If possible, it would be best to move to a new place."

"Setting aside the terrible lighting and air quality there, hygiene alone is a major issue."

Schiller put down the records and looked at Cobblepot. "How is your mother?"

"She's fine."

"What's wrong? You seem to have something to say?"

Schiller saw Cobblepot's hesitant expression. He placed the medical records on the desk, stacked them neatly with the other files, and set them aside.

He rested his arms on the desk and said, "The normal follow-up is over, but there are 20 minutes left. This is now free consultation time. You can say whatever you want."

"Professor Fries suggested that I... go to high school." Cobblepot's hands were on the table, but his fingers were interlaced and gripped tightly. He said, "It's absurd, right? How could I possibly go to high school?"

"Why do you think it's absurd? Why do you think you couldn't go to high school?"

"I..." Cobblepot hesitated, seemingly unsure how to express his emotions, so Schiller prompted him: "Because it's not very common in Cat Getan, right?"

"Almost everyone around you doesn't read books. Let alone high school, they might not have even finished elementary school before leaving. You're the same."

"Perhaps in your life plan, there was never a path of studying step-by-step and then going to college..."

Cobblepot nodded. He still seemed very nervous; his Adam's apple bobbed constantly. He said, "It won't work. I can't go to school. I don't have the tuition, and my mother needs someone to take care of her."

"But now, those shouldn't be problems. The money you earn is enough for your living expenses and tuition, and it's enough to have your mother hospitalized or even hire a caregiver to accompany her around the clock."

"Right, but I don't know how to choose..." Cobblepot hesitated. He wasn't trying to hide anything; it was just that his expressive ability couldn't fully describe his current state of mind, so Schiller guided him: "You don't know how to choose? What are your options?"

"I could continue working, make a lot of money, open a restaurant, and then buy a luxurious house for my mother to live in. That's what I originally planned..." Cobblepot bit his lip, speaking somewhat indistinctly.

"You seem to feel ashamed when describing this goal. Why?"

"Because Professor Fries described a completely different kind of life to me. His experience..."

"What was that?"

Cobblepot hesitated again, as if he couldn't say it. This was completely different from the state of eloquence he displayed when describing his criminal plans.

His imagination for a good life was very limited, and the language and vocabulary used to describe such a state were even more limited.

"He lived in a good family, had a large country villa, a big yard, brothers and sisters, a dog, took a car to school, sat in a classroom reading books, went from middle school to high school, and then got into a very good university with excellent grades..."

Cobblepot's vocabulary was very hollow. His adjectives for describing this life were nothing more than 'good', 'big', and 'happy'. Schiller heard this and said, "What kind of house do you consider big?"

Cobblepot circled his hands and said, "Probably about the same as those houses in the rich district in the south."

"Is that how Professor Fries described it to you? That his family had a house as big as those in the rich district in the south?"

Cobblepot shook his head. "No, he didn't say that."

"Perhaps the point you're focusing on is a bit skewed. The point of him telling you these things isn't about how good his house was, how big the yard was, or what kind of car he drove or how good his school was."

"His essence isn't to show off how happy his childhood was to you, nor is it to tell you that as long as you go to high school, you can live that kind of life..."

"Since your memory is quite good, have you noticed any difference between when he described this life to you and when you are relaying his words to me now?"

Cobblepot was silent for a moment, then said, "I don't have his rich vocabulary, nor do I have such overflowing emotions. I feel like my brain is a blank slate..."

He spoke like he was opening a floodgate, but the end of his tone still trembled, as if he were eager to spit out the final tail end of his words.

"When he described this life to me, it was very infectious, making me both envious and jealous. But now, when I have to describe it, I can't say it..."

"There might be two reasons for this problem. One is that you've never experienced that kind of life, and all your fantasies about a good life are still just empty thoughts. That's a matter of life experience. But more importantly..."

"Cobblepot, do you know why people study?" Schiller took a sip of water. Cobblepot replied, "To learn knowledge? And then get a degree?"

"That's only a part of it."

Schiller set down his cup and used the simplest, most understandable metaphor for Cobblepot. "Your brain is like a precision machine, but even the most precision machine needs to be active often so it doesn't rust."

"When your brain always turns in one direction, it creates inertia. Those gears and parts change their own structure according to the direction you turn, and then in this aspect, your brain turns faster and more smoothly. Then the parts and gears mesh better, and it turns even faster."

"This makes your talent in one area appear particularly prominent, but it also brings many problems. When these parts specialize in one direction, they are actually sacrificing balance in exchange for efficiency, which lowers one's mental stability."

"You should have discovered by now that when you think about conspiracies, crime, interpersonal relationships, and business connections, your brain is incredibly smooth. This is normal because you were born in Cat Getan and grew up here. These things are more useful than art, literature, and philosophy."

"But the process of learning is actually the process of letting your brain regain balance."

"You don't have to memorize all the books in the world about art, literature, and philosophy and apply them to your life; that's impossible."

"Just like even if you learn higher mathematical theory, it won't be of any special help to your management of the water system. It's just that managing water pipes doesn't require any profound theory."

"But this is actually helping your brain's parts and gears mesh in another direction, making it more balanced and stable."

"What we learn from studying, besides knowledge, is a way of thinking. When you face a problem, using more ways of thinking and looking at problems from more comprehensive angles can greatly improve your mental stability."

"When you have more angles to look at a thing, you can largely avoid thinking into a dead end or letting your emotions fall into extremes."

Cobblepot saw a kind of all-encompassing, calm power in Schiller's eyes, which was even stronger than what he felt in Victor.

He understood the metaphor "eyes are the windows to the soul" for the first time, because he saw an endless, vast ocean in Schiller's eyes.

He had felt this way once before, when facing the Godfather, but the Godfather carried an irresistible momentum, more like a violent storm on the sea, while Schiller was more like an endless deep sea—quiet, peaceful, but bottomless.

Cobblepot rubbed his clenched index fingers together. He felt a chill, but it wasn't because of the weather.

In his slightly limited imagination, he was like a penguin standing on ice, swaying. Above him was the wind and rain of a Cat Getan night, and beneath his feet was a bottomless sea.

【Rice ball】

Now, there were two paths before him. Was he going to be a bird that rises with the wind, or was he going to jump into the sea and become a fish swimming bravely in the sea of knowledge?

His brain, which always turned in one direction, appeared to have some friction between parts and gears for the first time, which sounded like a thunderclap in the cold night to him.

But Cobblepot didn't feel fear. After the fireplace in the room was lit, a faint warmth came over.

If the rain in Cat Getan never ceased, and he didn't have an umbrella to shield him from the wind and rain, then let him jump into this sea, swim forward in the currents and whirlpools, until he found his place to stay, froze the water there into ice, and built a house for himself.

*Gulp. * Schiller heard the sound of Cobblepot swallowing hard, but it sounded more like a small aquatic bird jumping from the ice into the sea.