Chapter 4923

Jonathan Crane is currently serving time in Blackgate Prison, but not because he contaminated Gotham's water supply with corrosives and sabotaged Brainiac's machinery room; rather, his sentence from the last incident hasn't been completed yet. Add this one on, and he's practically worn a hole in the prison floor.

But he's not just sitting idle in prison. Blackgate has a dedicated chemical laboratory prepared specifically for him. It's less like incarceration and more like closed-door experimentation.

Considering he's also a professor in the Chemistry Department at Gotham University, his imprisonment is actually quite enviable. Being in jail means he can openly ignore his students—no grading assignments, no reviewing papers, no supervising labs; it's practically bliss.

As for his students, well, chemistry itself is a matter of fate and fortune—especially in Gotham. Graduation isn't about academic performance; merely surviving counts as victory.

Of course, after Brainiac's screening, few lacking talent still insist on pushing forward. So even if Jonathan doesn't guide them much, their grades remain decent. If they truly struggle, they can always come serve a sentence and brush up a bit.

When Shiler arrived at Blackgate Prison, the guard symbolically barred his way. Since this is a high-security prison for serious offenders, routine visitation is normally prohibited mainly due to fears visitors might come to harm. But if it's Shiler showing up, there's no need to stop him. Even if a massive brawl erupted inside, he wouldn't be the one to die.

Jonathan's chemical laboratory is of high specification, occupying the entire second level underground. Shiler took the elevator down, and upon entering the lab, Jonathan nearly jumped up and hit his head on the ceiling.

"How did you get here!" he shouted, "You must have told Brainiac where I hid the fear toxin, right?"

"Not me." Shiler casually grabbed a sheet of paper from nearby and began writing something. Jonathan squinted at him, looking doubtful. After Shiler finished writing, he handed it to Jonathan.

"What class is this material from?" Shiler asked.

Jonathan took it and glanced over, revealing a puzzled expression. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then seemed uncertain. Shiler had to say: "Where's your lesson plan? Hand it over so I can look."

"My lesson plans are all left at Gotham University," Jonathan said, "Besides, mine are usually just outlines. What do you need that stuff for?"

"Do you still remember the content of this class?"

Jonathan looked at the paper again, stroking his chin as he recalled: "It should be one lesson from 'Analysis and Preparation of Twelve Common Industrial Bleaching and Dyeing Chemical Reagents,' but I don't remember exactly which lesson was covered."

Then he added: "This is the foundational part of applied chemistry—not to teach students how to prepare these substances, but to let them know the basic industrial preparation process. After this lesson, there should still be two lab sessions on preparing small samples..."

"Can you explain it once more?" Shiler asked.

"What?" Jonathan glared at him, saying, "Even though I'm still a professor at Gotham University, I'm not about to come to prison to teach and be inspected, am I?"

"Not an academic inspection," Shiler said, "Mainly, it's to teach me."

"Cough cough cough..." Jonathan nearly choked himself. He burst into a fit of coughing, leaned back from the lab bench a few steps, as if he'd inhaled fear toxin himself. "Teach you?! Are you crazy?!?"

Shiler stared at him silently. Jonathan glared and said: "You're a theoretician who's spent a lifetime writing papers—why would you want to learn chemistry? Applied chemistry, no less?!?"

"It's a long story," Shiler explained in simple terms, but Jonathan clearly didn't understand. He hadn't left this place in ages and had no idea what was happening outside.

Still, seeing Shiler's persistent gaze, Jonathan reluctantly clicked his tongue and said: "Actually, it's not impossible—this part is very simple, roughly undergraduate chemistry curriculum. I'll write down the procedure and chemical formulas for you; just memorize them..."

"The key is the experiment," Shiler said, "If it were only theory, you wouldn't need to write it. I'll check the lesson plan and memorize it myself."

"You want hands-on lab work?!?!" Jonathan nearly jumped up again, "No way—labs can't be taught. I can't teach you; go find someone else."

"You used corrosives to wreck the Brainiac facility nearest my home, and I still haven't settled the score with you..." Shiler began threatening directly.

Jonathan's eyes darted left and right as he said: "That was just a coincidence—turns out that facility happened to be near your place..."

"Fine," Jonathan paused, one hand on his hip, the other braced on the lab bench, "I never imagined there'd be a day you'd come begging me for help—indeed, I am Gotham's greatest psychology master. Hahahahaha——!"

Jonathan was, of course, delighted. He and Shiler have been sparring for days, and Jonathan usually loses. Corroding the machinery with corrosives was one of the few times he nearly succeeded. Never mind why Shiler wants to learn lab work from him—at least this time he gained the upper hand.

But Jonathan Crane celebrated too soon.

He has a point: Shiler is a theoretician who's spent a lifetime in academia. Unlike greed, arrogance is pure theory. He doesn't even possess medical qualifications—only a counseling certificate, let alone prescribing rights. Most of the time, he's either writing papers or writing books.

Even the most experienced person in applied psychology personality traits has never set foot in a lab. Psychology and lab-based sciences like physics or engineering are entirely different. Ordinary people hear "chemistry lab" or "physics lab" and think it normal, but hear "psychology lab" and inevitably imagine some kind of evil human experimentation.

And indeed, that's often the case. Psychology experiments frequently involve human subjects, and whenever humans are involved, the real challenge is actually navigating ethics. To satisfy ethical requirements, human-contact experimental procedures must be shortened and simplified as much as possible. After all, aside from illegal human experimentation organizations, you can't keep people under long-term observation; the goal is to gather maximum information in minimal time—nothing like standard science lab procedures.

This also means Shiler has zero lab safety awareness. This is crucial. Any subject requiring lab entry typically drills safety protocols from the start, so by the time one actually enters the lab, certain rules are ingrained in the bone.

Even non-professionals, if they've received some education, internalize certain safety rules as common sense—like wafting when handling chemicals, or sterilizing before entering med-related labs.

One could say: if Shiler had even a hint of safety consciousness, Crazy Wine would never have been born. When Jonathan Crane learned of its existence, he was utterly shocked. He racked his brain trying to fathom how Shiler dared to mix those substances together—and even dare to use them. It made even the supervillain Scarecrow seem conservative.

Greed often frequents Stark's labs and even earned the nickname "Destroyer of Lab Safety Protocols." But Stark's lab is ultimately a mechanical engineering facility. Moreover, its production and assembly labs are separate. The lab where Stark and Greed often meet is his assembly lab, which poses little danger—indeed, even power sources aren't stored there. So even if Shiler ignores safety rules, there'd be no serious consequences.

But it's well known that a chemist's academic standing depends not on talent, but on lifespan. Renowned mathematicians and physicists can usually gather for a group photo; chemists differ. Those with solo portraits are basically globally renowned masters. So many chemists' lives end exactly when their careers begin, leaving no chance to leave behind a photograph.

Jonathan knew many newcomers make mistakes, and he'd planned to mock Shiler properly. But when he saw Shiler could even put gloves on backward, he realized the situation was far worse than he imagined.

Lab gloves aren't just graded—they have inside and outside. Reversing left and right, then wearing them inside out, is absolutely unacceptable. Seeing Shiler grab a pair, glance at it, and start to put them on, Jonathan shouted: "Wait, you've got them backwards."

Shiler glanced at the wall, thinking Jonathan meant he'd grabbed the wrong hand, so he reached for the orange one nearby. Jonathan hurriedly said: "No, these two can't pair—you need to wear the blue ones!"

Jonathan helped him take off the gloves, then sorted left from right. After Shiler put them on, Jonathan went to fetch the arm straps—required for glove sealing. When he returned, he found Shiler had already gone to inspect the chemical reagents on his rack.

"Shiler!!!" Jonathan roared, "Don't touch those!!"

Shiler glanced at him, then returned the test tube to the rack. Jonathan fumed and rushed over: "Your gloves aren't even on properly—go back to the prep room!!"

Shiler lowered his eyes to his hands—weren't the gloves on correctly? Jonathan saw the meaning in that glance, sighed, and firmly marched Shiler back into the preparation room.

If he were still making fear toxin, it wouldn't actually be that dangerous—but lately he's been working with corrosives, and the whole lab is filled with hazardous materials. Many are volatile substances where a whiff could kill everyone. If the gloves aren't secured, they'll both die together.

"I really want to know," Jonathan grumbled while tying Shiler's gloves, "If you can't even wear gloves properly, why are you wearing a hazmat suit?"

"You don't want to know," Shiler said, "And there's nothing to know anyway."

After securing the gloves, Shiler started to walk out, but Jonathan lunged to stop him: "Gas mask, respirator filter, goggles! Good lord, are you trying to die in here so Brainiac can slap me with a few hundred years?!"

"Wait, he hasn't sentenced you to a few hundred years yet?" Shiler asked, surprised, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, hold on," Jonathan said, as if just realizing something, "Can you turn into gray mist? Hurry up and do it—I don't think you can walk out of this lab in human form."

"He's not here," Shiler said, "Just like this—I think it's about enough."

"You think it's about enough?!" Jonathan jumped up and down, "Even God thinks you've lived long enough. Come here now—do a seal test..."