Chapter 2962: Lush Green Shade, Long Summer Days (Seven)

A disaster occurred at Wayne Manor.

The cause was that everyone had eaten their fill, and the teenagers of the New Warrior team planned to spar with Robin's teenagers— in 40-degree weather, they intended to go to the back garden to fight.

Although it was already night, because the daytime temperature had been too high, the temperature had not dropped at all; opening the door released a wave of heat, but these crazy teenagers didn't care at all and insisted on settling the score at this time.

Originally, Shiler had no objection; they could fight among themselves while he simply drove home, but Helen insisted on dragging him to be the referee, and he also worried these teenagers would tear Wayne Manor apart, leaving the poor butler homeless, so he had no choice but to stay.

Fortunately, these two groups still had some restraint, barely managing to put friendship first and competition second, and they continued until the Guardians of the Galaxy gang showed up.

Star-Lord and his group had originally come to find Shiler to ask about the cooling plan, but these people always gravitated toward wherever there was excitement; merely joining the fun wasn't enough—they needed to experience it firsthand to feel satisfied. Seeing the two groups of teenagers fighting intensely, they also joined in.

Don't think Star-Lord and his group can't fight— Gamora and Nebula, the two sisters, were killers trained by Thanos, so their martial arts are naturally not weak; Rocket Raccoon fought his way out of a half-world asylum, gaining rich practical experience; Drax has nothing but muscle in his brain, and gladiatorial combat is one of his favorite pastimes.

When these people gathered, it was like dry tinder meeting fire— Wayne Manor's back garden instantly became an interstellar gladiatorial arena, with crackling sounds filling the air as they fought noisily.

When Robin's group and the New Warrior team members fought, it was actually fine; they occasionally spoke with reasonable, evidence-based technical exchange, but once the Guardians of the Galaxy gang arrived, it turned into a sky full of trash talk, and Shiler, listening from the side for just a few minutes, felt his head buzzing.

These people were really too noisy.

The weather was already hot, and there was no air conditioning in the back garden; at night, there was no wind, so the temperature remained near 40 degrees, and because of the pond, it was somewhat humid; Shiler felt like he was sitting in a steamer listening to mosquitoes argue, and he really couldn't stand it anymore.

Shiler shook off Helen's entanglement and drove home alone, but not long after, the New Warrior team members returned and began sitting in the living room to thoroughly review everything, arguing from opening strategies to every move and style of the fight.

Shiler didn't go to sleep that early, but he still had papers to grade; originally, grading papers was already unpleasant enough, and now he had to listen to nonsense as background music— this place was truly unbearable.

Finally, morning arrived; Shiler prepared to take a nap when a rumbling sound came from outside— Williams' engineering crew had entered the site.

Shiler had still miscalculated; although the site where Williams wanted to build the resort was indeed some distance from his house, and if they only hammered there, there would indeed be no noise, the problem was that building houses required trucks to haul materials, and trucks passing by would generate noise.

The weather was already hot, and dozens of large trucks continuously kicked up dust and emitted exhaust; as soon as Shiler stepped outside, the gasoline smell in the air outside his door was almost thick enough to draw into threads.

He hadn't even said anything yet when Helen and the others rushed out again to argue with Williams, and sure enough, they ended up fighting.

It's not that Shiler didn't want to break it up, but today's temperature was even more outrageous— the thermometer read 43 degrees, and the ground temperature was the kind where cracking an egg could fry it; this weather was already unsuitable for humans to go outside.

Shiler chose to leave.

He directly asked Gotham University for leave, saying he had heatstroke, quickly grabbed his luggage, and drove to Arkham Asylum.

Don't misunderstand— he wasn't coming to be readmitted, but merely to visit his old friend Brand.

After relocation, Arkham Asylum is located on a small island to the north of Gotham, with temperatures slightly cooler than in the south; the island itself hasn't undergone much development, so the urban heat island effect is not severe, and temperatures can barely be maintained around 35 degrees, making it truly a rare holiday retreat.

Thanks to the Scarecrow and Pig-Face Professor seeking distant opportunities in Metropolis, Shiler got the chance to vacation here; otherwise, those two would constantly pester him about academic research, and even if this place were cool, he wouldn't come.

The annoying people left, so for Shiler, this place naturally became a utopia; he eagerly parked his car in front of the main gate of Arkham Sanatorium.

Brand came out, Shiler lifted his luggage and shook hands with him.

"Long time no see, Professor." Brand said: "How is Gotham University's new campus? The new chancellor is also not bad, right?"

Shiler shook his head and sighed: "Don't mention it."

The two entered Arkham Asylum together; because it had been renovated earlier, the facilities here are ample, the hall is spacious and bright, the wards are neat and orderly, and there are laboratories, activity centers, arts buildings, and a large garden— completely unlike the legendary terrifying prison, more like a fully equipped modern treatment center.

The patients here are finally not holidaying gang bosses; aside from genuine mental patients, there are also some wealthy individuals with mental issues receiving treatment here.

In the end, the Arkham Asylums of the two universes converged despite different paths.

As soon as Shiler stepped inside, another figure approached— it was Cobpot, and Shiler walked forward to shake hands with him.

"I knew you would come, Professor; the city is really too hot."

"Yes, I had no choice but to take leave to come here for relief from the heat; how is your mother's health? Is she still taking medication?"

"No, she is no longer using psychiatric medication, but her lungs have developed problems; currently, no thoracotomy biopsy has been performed, but we all suspect what it is."

Cobpot appeared somewhat sorrowful, but he is no longer the little boy who trembled in the corner of the house hiding because of his mother's illness; he has not only become an adult, but in a certain sense, he is also one of the top figures in this city.

Shiler let out a light sigh; Brand had him hand over his luggage to the orderly, who would arrange the room, while Shiler followed Cobpot to see his mother.

Upon seeing this elderly person again, Shiler couldn't help but feel moved; she looked much older.

Actually, during Cobpot's mother's medication period, Shiler had been conducting follow-up examinations on her, so the two cannot be said to have not seen each other for many years; yet, for some unknown reason, since their last meeting less than a year ago, this woman seems to have aged ten years.

Her mental condition has indeed improved greatly; upon seeing Shiler enter, she smiled and nodded at him, clearly recognizing him; Shiler walked over and shook her hand, and Cobpot's wife, holding his hand, said: "Thank you, doctor; I haven't had nightmares for a very long time."

"Your recovery is quite good." This is not Shiler being polite, but Cobpot has indeed taken very good care of his mother; even though it is a hereditary mental illness, there has been no relapse for a long time, and now Cobpot's wife can truly be called a healthy person.

"Yes, I myself feel much better." Cobpot's wife said: "I am gradually able to recall things from my youth; we used to gather by the fireplace to dance and sing, and I always remember his father— back then he was a fine young man..."

Shiler's hand paused, but he showed nothing, merely smiling and saying: "The past is always nostalgic; the doctor said you need rest, so I won't disturb you."

Cobpot's wife stood there seeing them off in the clean, bright ward; Shiler had just stepped out of the ward when he sighed, looking at Cobpot and saying: "Have you given your mother an Alzheimer's screening?"

Cobpot looked somewhat surprised, but still shook his head and asked: "Could my mother have Alzheimer's?"

"Excessive reminiscence of the past and forgetting the present is one manifestation of Alzheimer's; I cannot determine whether her nostalgia for the past is normal or pathological; you had better get checked."

Cobpot's face finally showed a weary expression; Shiler merely patted his shoulder and said: "Mental illness and physical illness sometimes interact; your mother's schizophrenia has long prevented her from caring for herself, leading to insufficient physical activity, which has also affected certain brain regions."

"Her original living environment was poor— overly cold and damp— and it may also have been affected by rainwater, causing her lung function to be impaired; labored breathing may also be one of the triggers for her mental illness flare-ups."

"I advise you to still get a thoracotomy biopsy; your mother's age is still acceptable, she can tolerate surgery, and perhaps you can gain 3 to 5 years of life, during which you can think of other solutions."

Cobpot lifted his eyes to look at Shiler.

After a brief pause, Shiler said: "I suggest you ask Lex Luthor; Luthor Corp has been conducting medical experiments in this area, and I believe he may have some backup plans on hand."

Shiler said this quite tactfully, but Cobpot clearly understood; the so-called backup plans are naturally not that legal— perfect lung transplants or artificial lungs in the hands of the genius scientist Luthor are certainly possible to achieve.

"I can leave you a Constantine phone number; perhaps magical means will help." Shiler added.

This is more straightforward— Gothamites' souls are relatively valuable; if Cobpot's wife made a deal with a demon, she could of course also extend her lifespan.

"The worst case would be to go see Victor." Shiler said: "Their preservation technology has made great progress; now it hardly produces side effects."

This is naturally also obvious— Nora was originally frozen due to neurodegenerative disease and is now doing well; if Cobpot wishes, he could freeze his mother until humanity finds a cure for lung cancer.

"Or there is another possibility, though it would be somewhat troublesome." Shiler said: "I know of another universe where there is a country called Wakanda; they have already solved cancer, but it requires using their local herbs and metal radiation; if that fails, one can only try going through a portal."

"Thank you, Professor." Cobpot said: "If it's just lung cancer, I would try, but Alzheimer's..."

Shiler also couldn't say anything more; in the superhero universe, cancer is actually easier to treat than many mental illnesses; Cobpot's wife's difficulty lies in her hereditary schizophrenia, and the pain of chemotherapy and radiotherapy, the process of accepting medical experiments, and even the discomfort of going through a portal could all possibly trigger her illness.

If compounded by severe Alzheimer's affecting self-care ability, then even if her body were cured, she would gradually forget everything, end up bedridden, and wither like dry wood.

Birth, aging, sickness, and death— human nature; many times people choose acceptance not because they have such endurance, but because they have no choice; even in such a universe, this kind of thing keeps happening, and aside from choosing acceptance, there is no other way.