Chapter 2963: Green Trees Cast Deep Shadows, Summer Days Are Long (8)

"What's wrong?" Brand poured a glass of wine for Shiler and asked, "You don't look like you're in a very good mood."

"Mrs. Cobblepot's situation isn't looking good." Shiler was clearly distracted, saying as he thought about something, "Of course, given her mental state and physical condition, it's already quite remarkable that she's held on until now. What I'm worried about is that if this continues, Cobblepot might end up having problems himself."

Brand sat down next to Shiler, shoulder to shoulder, and said, "He has been unable to make up his mind to have the biopsy done because once the examination is performed, it won't be possible to hide it from his mother, which might cause further stimulation to her mental state."

"What are the odds?"

"Based on my experience, there's over a ninety percent chance."

"Then it must be lung cancer."

"To be honest, I did suggest he find a way to test her without alarming his mother."

"Is there such equipment?"

"Even if Wayne Hospital doesn't have it, Batman certainly does. But he told me that even if he knew the result, he wouldn't be able to handle it, and it would be impossible for him not to show it in front of his mother. The outcome would be the same."

"Cobblepot is too dependent on his mother." Shiler took a sip of wine and felt a bit better. He continued, "For so many years, she has been the only outlet for his emotional release. This is very unhealthy, but since his mother truly needs meticulous care, no one can blame him for being filial."

"People always have to reach that stage where they realize that in the end, they are walking this path alone." Brand sighed with emotion. "If there were a spouse or children, perhaps emotions could be transferred. If not, one must simply learn to endure the loneliness."

The two were silent for a while. Shiler took the initiative to stand up and said, "I'm going to go check on my room."

Brand nodded and stood up, leading him to a guest room in the reception wing of Arkham Asylum. Because it was a comprehensive rehabilitation hospital, there were many hotel-style rooms.

Brand chose a corner room for Shiler. There were two large floor-to-ceiling windows in the corner of the living room where one could overlook the sea. The air conditioning in the room was strong, making it very cool, and it was equipped with a computer and projector for work.

As soon as he saw the computer, Shiler remembered that he still had papers to grade. He put aside the idea of going to the activity building to look around and decided to finish his work first.

Before that, he called Helena to tell them to take it easy and not to wreck his house. As a result, he heard James Gordon's voice in the background; it seemed this group had managed to get themselves into the police station after a fight.

Shiler really didn't want to deal with it anymore. Facing the students' assignments was better than facing the teenagers themselves. Papers could be bad, but there was a limit to how bad they could be; teenagers, however, had no such limit.

Shiler looked at the papers from noon until the afternoon, until Brand came to knock on his door again. When he opened the door, he saw Brand holding a bottle of wine. Brand said, "There's a small gathering in the activity building tonight. Are you going?"

Shiler looked at the emails he had almost finished sending, nodded, and took the bottle from Brand. He raised an eyebrow in surprise and said, "Did you strike it rich?"

"Not at all, someone gave it to me."

Shiler walked to the wine cabinet and found a spot for this fine bottle. He looked at the label and felt it looked familiar, but his brain hadn't fully cleared out the garbage papers from his students, so he didn't think much of it.

They went to the restaurant at dinner time. Shiler ordered a table full of cold dishes. Brand found it amusing and said, "It seems you really are suffering from the heat. What's the temperature in the city right now?"

"43 degrees. Can you believe it?" Shiler sliced into a piece of salmon. "And yet, there are people who can play football for half a day in this kind of weather."

"Young people are just that full of vitality." Brand shook his head.

They chatted while they ate, and dinner ended quickly. After leaving the restaurant and heading toward the activity building, Brand took Shiler into the club hall without needing to register his identity.

Shiler chatted with those he was familiar with and those he wasn't. Although these weren't the colleagues and friends he usually saw at the Cat Getan University faculty club, it was essentially the same.

Everyone sat scattered at tables, chatting while drinking. Some were reading, some were reading newspapers, and some were playing cards. After all these years, the forms of entertainment for this social stratum in Cat Getan hadn't changed much.

However, with the development of technology, a projector was playing a movie on one of the walls in the hall, and a few people were sitting there watching it.

Shiler was just a bit curious about what movie was playing. He walked over to take a look, and good heavens, wasn't that Selina?

It looked like a romance movie about exploring an ancient tomb in Mexico. Selina played a character similar to Lara Croft, which was very suitable for her because she was not only beautiful but also very capable in a fight, essentially making the most of her advantages as a cat burglar.

The male lead was lacking; not only was he not as handsome as Bruce, but his action scenes were also quite stiff. The plot was so ridiculous that Shiler couldn't help but complain—monsters crawled out from underground, yet the male lead ran away first, and Selina's character was still madly in love with him. If this were the real Selina, she would have slapped him against the wall and left him there.

Shiler sat there watching for a while, but he really couldn't stand the melodramatic plot anymore. Everyone else was watching with great interest. Looking around, everyone was wearing hospital gowns.

Just as Shiler was sizing up the audience in the front row, he suddenly saw a familiar figure.

"Who is that? What's his name?"

Brand looked in the direction Shiler was pointing, and after a brief recollection, said, "Him? I think his condition is post-traumatic stress disorder and severe obsessive-compulsive disorder."

"Edward Nygma?"

"It seems so." Brand took out his phone, performed a search, and said, "That's right, Edward Nygma. He was admitted four years ago. His condition was very severe upon admission, manifesting as uncontrollable writing of riddles and guessing riddles. After a period of treatment, he improved, but he has never been able to stop taking his medication."

"After undergoing several rounds of electroconvulsive therapy over a year ago, he got even better. Now, apart from being fond of riddle books, he's essentially like a normal person. His attending physician's judgment is that, barring any accidents, he will be discharged in the second half of the year."

Shiler felt a sense of emotion. He had been wondering where the Riddler of this universe had gone and had even asked Gordon to keep an eye out for him. It turned out he had been admitted to the asylum all along and was now almost cured.

However, Shiler was pessimistic about whether Edward could truly recover. The Riddler was one of the few true psychiatric patients in Cat Getan. Most others, like the Joker and Scarecrow, were generally antisocial personalities and didn't count as mentally ill, but Edward was a genuine psychiatric patient.

In the original comic book plot, he showed very obvious obsessive tendencies. He had once said himself that he didn't want to leave riddles, but he had no choice; he could only continue to commit crimes, leave riddles, lead people to guess them, and then be sent back to the asylum.

"How was he sent here?" Shiler asked.

"He came here himself." Brand seemed to finally recall some things. He said, "One day he collapsed at the entrance of the asylum. The nurse found him covered in wounds and, fearing he would get an infection from the rain, brought him back to the ward, only to discover he had severe mental problems."

"That was during the preparations for the music festival. We were worried he would cause trouble if we let him out, and the asylum's business was doing quite well, so we didn't mind having one more patient and simply admitted him."

"Are you sure the blood on him was his own?"

"You suspect he killed someone? Actually, we suspected that too, but we aren't police, and we couldn't get it out of him."

"You know you could have gone to Gordon, right?"

"There was no need." Brand emphasized his tone. "He was only 20 years old four years ago, just a child. Like Cobblepot back then, why be so harsh on him?"

"I'm just worried that his condition might be related to his experiences. Who caused the wounds on his body?"

"I don't know, but it looked like he had been beaten. Combined with the manifestations of his post-traumatic stress disorder, he might have had severe childhood trauma. Perhaps school bullying."

"You are always researching 'perhaps'."

"Because I am a pathologist." Brand said, "Fortunately, he is recovering quite well. Barring any accidents, I will have him discharged in September."

"I'll go over and take a look." Shiler put down his wine glass and said.

He walked over and sat down next to Edward. The latter seemed startled by him. He turned his head, but instead of making eye contact with Shiler, he rolled his eyes upward and peered at Shiler sideways.

"Hello, Mr. Nygma. I am Shiler, a psychology professor at Cat Getan University. Dr. Brand is a friend of mine."

Shiler took out a business card and handed it to Edward, while sizing up his face. He did indeed look like most versions of the Riddler, though younger, and his complexion wasn't as pale. From the surface, one couldn't tell he was a psychiatric patient.

However, when he reached out his hand, Shiler could clearly see he had some motor impairment. The movement of turning his wrist was quite stiff, and when he took the business card back to put it in his pocket, his shoulder seemed locked, as if he didn't know how to exert force smoothly and naturally.

"Have you undergone electroconvulsive therapy?" Shiler asked.

Edward nodded silently.

"How do you feel? Are you a bit more relaxed?"

Edward actually thought about it carefully, then nodded while shrinking his neck. He didn't show any signs of fear, because modern electroconvulsive therapy requires full anesthesia, meaning you know nothing once you lie on the operating table. It is mainly used to stimulate the nerves and aid recovery.

His performance was somewhat beyond Shiler's expectations, because this type of psychiatric patient should be more manic during communication, even talking incessantly—which to a normal person would be gibberish, but a psychologist could infer their current state through their linguistic logic.

Edward appeared a bit shy and very silent. This is actually a good omen, because facing a stranger, one should indeed be like this. Shiler exerted some pressure, and if he were still able to become manic, that would be the abnormal part.

Learning to avoid is an important part of the recovery of similar psychiatric patients. This helps them establish correct social thinking and reduces their aggression. It seems that although Brand was clueless in his speech, he was quite skilled at treating illnesses.

"How have you been feeling lately?" Shiler reduced the pressure he was exerting and asked in a slower tone.

"Quite good, it's always been pretty good, Edward says."

"Which ward do you live in? Perhaps I can come visit you later."

"7013." Edward said, "Can I leave riddles on the door?"

"If you want to, of course you can." Shiler had just said this when he remembered that 7014, next to 7013, was where Mrs. Cobblepot lived.

"Do you know Mrs. Cobblepot?"

Edward seemed to finally break free from that state of avoidance. He nodded vigorously and said, "She is very kind, but she is very ill. Cobblepot brings me riddle books, and he reads them and answers my riddles..."

Shiler noticed that the muscles at the corners of Edward's mouth and neck were still twitching. This should be a side effect of the medication, but his basic linguistic logic was clear. When mentioning riddles, there was no abnormal mania. He was indeed different from other Riddlers.

"I know you like riddles very much. So, do you prefer a life with riddles or without riddles now?" Shiler asked again.

This time, Edward thought for a long time, and then said a very long paragraph.