[{"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-70":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},2322638,4544,"Chapter 70","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-70",70,"\u003Cp>“Hello? Could you put me through to the Godfather, please?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Good afternoon, Godfather. I’d like to discuss a business deal with you…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the office of Arkham Psychiatric Hospital, Schiller put down the phone, tugged at the cord, blew dust off the receiver, poured himself a drink, picked up the old telephone, spun the dial, and said: “Hello? Brand? You made it to Hawaii? … No, no need to worry, enjoy your vacation, I’ve got this under control.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A moment later, Bruce walked in and placed a stack of files on Schiller’s desk. Schiller said: “Off duty? Want a drink?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Thanks, I don’t drink.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You look a bit worn out.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I haven’t slept in nearly fifty hours.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course, your new giant Bat-signal has been lit constantly lately—everyone in Gotham knows there’s a Batman now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But…” Bruce sighed, hesitated, then said: “Alright, give me one, thanks.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s got Batman turning to alcohol?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce said: “I think I shouldn’t have done this. Bats don’t turn on lights—and they shouldn’t.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before Schiller could ask, Bruce continued: “I installed six Bat-beacons across Gotham. In the past few days, they lit up twenty-five times—nineteen of them were pranks.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So I added security measures. Then I got twelve emergency calls—all gang wars, demanding I back them up.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I banned gangs from using them, so they started sabotaging them. Of course, I designed a security protocol—it worked well. But then poor people and beggars pressed the buttons, and the next day, they were killed by gangs.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce covered his face, took a deep breath, swallowed a sip of whiskey, and forced the liquor down: “Those who can’t be saved aren’t allowed to be saved at all. If this is Gotham, then fine—I was too naive.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I knew it… no bat would ever turn on a light.” Bruce finally said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I suggest you take a few days off. When you face a problem, sacrifice rest to solve it, then face a new problem and do the same—it’s a vicious cycle. You need to stop. It serves no purpose.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce said wearily: “Alright, I’ll go sleep. I’ll be back tomorrow—copy medical records, answer phones, do rounds, whatever.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next day, Bruce arrived on time, as promised. Schiller was already in the office, sipping a steaming cup of coffee. Bruce brewed himself an Americano and picked up a paper to read.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A moment later, a nurse knocked and entered: “Doctor, patient Andre on the second floor, room five, won’t stop yelling—he keeps demanding higher morphine doses, or he’ll file a complaint.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller didn’t look up, said calmly: “Give him triple the market price. If he complains again, charge him five times.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce nearly choked on his coffee.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“On the third floor, Bird wants painkillers—he was up all night.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Tell him the pharmacist fell off the railing yesterday—head first. No stock left.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The one in room six…” Schiller flipped through the files: “…Hall or Gorr? He’s got connections. Have him send someone in—we take seven, he takes three.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After the nurse left, before Bruce could speak, the phone rang again. Schiller picked it up while still reading the file.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello? Whiskey supply cut off? … Yes, the last bottle’s here. Who said they had a bar? Let me check… Fourth floor, room one. Have him run a line from the bar. Tell him not to bring diluted crap—or I’ll give him a permanent treatment recommendation.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller hung up, picked up the receiver again, and spoke into the phone:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Tell them—killers aren’t allowed in. Entry requires a main gate pass—ten thousand dollars each. Hospital entrance: fifty thousand. Above the third floor, add thirty thousand for wear and tear. Buy the full package and get a free security patrol map…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello? The neuro-monitor on the fifth floor, room two, was broken yesterday? Whose guy is that? Old Band from the East District? Donate a new machine, have him take his man away, and come by later for a recovery recommendation.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After hanging up, Bruce said: “Professor…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before he could finish, the phone rang again. Schiller answered: “Hello? … No deal? Tell him the twin brothers down south are offering five hundred thousand—and it’s not a buyout. If he refuses, he won’t get a single cent from my alcohol business here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello? No, Arkham’s security is now under the Falcone family’s control. If he wants to force his way in, let him come. The Godfather sends his regards.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Schiller hung up. Bruce seized the moment: “Isn’t there something wrong with—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello? How many tomorrow? … No, no good. That little vulture’s got no juice—nothing like his father. Send him to prison. I don’t take trash… He took over his father’s empire? Fine, reserve room seven on the second floor for him… What? Medical certificate? That’s extra.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“…Push the other three to next month. Have the judge find an excuse—diarrhea, something. Fifth floor is full… And a cop? Corrupt? Got caught? … We take psychotics, not the intellectually disabled. If he wants in, go back to his old employer.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who else? No, he’s out. Already arrested? Then have the police return the evidence. Find that guy Brock—he’ll understand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Schiller finished, he looked up. Bruce was staring at him—his gaze complex: a mix of shock at “how could you?” and quiet contempt for “of course you would.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t look at me. The hospital’s running fine, isn’t it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce opened his mouth to confront Schiller—but suddenly had no idea where to begin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I made a deal with Falcone. He has his Black Gloves provoke profitable gangs, then his police chief arrests them. I issue them psychiatric diagnoses to get them admitted. After that? It depends on whether their bosses or enemies pay more.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce stared at Schiller. Schiller spread his hands: “What? Surprised? Or do you really think I’m some good guy like Harvey? What gave you that illusion?”\u003C\u002Fp>",975,"2026-06-20T16:39:12.484Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","172e901b368a61f6a35050081726c37bde46e06551a577bd152ce4519cb8818c","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-71","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-69",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-cover.jpg"]