[{"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-809":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},2323377,4544,"Chapter 809: Outdated Strategies Harm Deeply (Part 2)","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-809",809,"\u003Cp>Until Alberto spoke, Savage realized his personality was completely different from—and opposite to—the description in the files.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>According to the data he obtained from the Batcave, Yin Wensi was an introverted personality, his inner traits closer to that of an artist: he preferred emotional, deep thinking over rapid-fire thought, was poor at on-the-spot reactions, and favored expressing his thoughts through mediums.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such a person would struggle to survive in the underworld, but fortunately, his good birth granted him privileged living conditions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet this would also become his death sentence; combined with his earlier desperate attempts to prove himself, Savage could judge that his relationship with the Don was at a delicate turning point.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If someone approached him now and offered help, even if he knew the person was untrustworthy, he likely wouldn’t reject that power—after all, under such circumstances, any power would bolster his sense of security.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An heir who is not favored knows his own position; the king and father who holds life and death over him might at any moment make a decision that leaves him with nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one can endure such pressure; he must be frantically searching for a lifeline, so Savage had no qualms about taking the initiative—he wasn’t groveling, he was offering aid in the snow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when he saw Alberto, he knew the situation differed from his expectations; the moment he laid eyes on Alberto, he realized this man was no artist-type personality—he was a born competitor, a predator.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alberto pointed to the chair across from him and said, “Sit down, Mr. Savage. If you must talk, we can set aside unnecessary formalities and discuss what you truly care about…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Savage sat, his posture relaxed, though inwardly he had no such confidence; the man’s demeanor was not what he wanted—it meant he couldn’t gain absolute advantage—but he still intended to try. The underworld resources of Gotham were too tempting to pass up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello, Mr. Falcone, I’m Vandal Savage, from an era you cannot possibly imagine…” Savage set his tone, forced to deploy his third—and even fourth—step rhetoric upfront to spark curiosity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh?” Alberto looked at Savage with interest. “Ancient era? How ancient?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I danced with Neanderthals, witnessed meteorites fall, countless prehistoric creatures from history books sprinted past me—time’s current carried me here…” As he spoke, Savage’s voice carried an ancient, resonant cadence, evoking fragments of history seen in museums.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If I had time today, I’d gladly hear your stories of the past,” Alberto glanced at his watch. “But I have other matters. Let’s begin with the modern era.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sighed. “These refrigerated shipments arrived just yesterday. You show up the very next day. We verified—you belong to no Gotham gang. And that saved your life…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alberto’s tone grew colder as he stared into Savage’s eyes. “If you were a member of any gang controlled by the Twelve Families, you’d already be dead.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I am older than God. The faiths you preach are nothing but a gambler’s con…” Savage rose, unyielding.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A gunshot rang out. Savage snatched the chair with one hand, smashing the thug behind him. He ducked low, evading a swinging fist. Three more shots cracked—sparks flew, glass and wood splintered. A flash of light—and Savage vanished.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alberto’s expression never changed. He stroked his watch face. “It’s been a long time since anyone dared raise a hand here. I don’t care if he can teleport—if I don’t see him before tonight, this matter goes to the Don.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned and left. In the room, Cobblepot and the other lieutenants wore cold expressions. One stepped forward and asked Cobblepot, “What happened, Oswald? Why is the young master so angry?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cobblepot shook his head. “Lately, he’s been doing internships, spending too much time in the hospital, working late every night. Last night, that fool broke into Falcone’s key storage area and disturbed his rest…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other gang bosses all shook their heads, but they reached a consensus: this new Don was walking the same path as his father—and perhaps he’d do it better.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After returning to his hotel, Savage still wore a grim expression. He realized his intelligence might be flawed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But what puzzled him was this: if the file was a decoy, a trap, why was it written with such detail?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The detail wasn’t about volume—it was about logical cohesion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In this file, the method to deal with Falcone was to exploit his son—his only weakness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It elaborated thoroughly on the reasons, methods, and possible outcomes. Every thread was laid out with crystal clarity. If this were a trap, then the opponent was truly a master of deception.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Savage wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t blindly trust the file after one setback. He planned to set it aside and consult a few trusted people—but as he flipped through a few pages, he spotted a familiar name: “Shiler Rodriguez.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His dispatched Mirror Master and Captain Cold had both mentioned this name. Savage knew him: a professor at Gotham University, specializing in psychology. Mirror Master and Captain Cold’s intel described him as terrifying.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mysterious source’s dossier detailed Shiler’s background, identifying him as a detective and psychologist who had repeatedly solved serial murder cases. It also proposed a theory: the author believed Shiler had a shocking criminal past, and had come to Gotham to escape accountability.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After reading Shiler’s record, Savage felt a pang of awe. In his long life, he’d encountered countless mad killers—but most had only one or two crimes. Even the most notorious serial killers peaked within just a few years.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The long string of entries in Shiler’s record spoke of relentless activity over the past decade. If true, Savage agreed with the dossier’s author: Shiler couldn’t just be a detective—he must have been a killer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Savage disliked dealing with such people. They cared nothing for worldly fame or fortune; their only desire was crime. But if he could use them to stir chaos, he could regroup.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unaware he was being watched, Shiler was currently tutoring Jason in basic grammar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Look here—you must learn to use guiding phrases. It makes your logic clearer… Yes, you can omit them, but pay attention to the pauses and rhythm after omission—don’t rush…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shiler pointed to a sentence in the grammar book. “Your pace is too fast. There’s no need. Your eagerness to make the other person understand you stems from over-focusing on their reaction. Sometimes, you should focus more on your own logic…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“During conversation, pay attention to your own expression. Listening to others is good, but if your logic doesn’t hold up—if you can’t convince yourself—you won’t convince your patient…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason kept nodding, focused on the book. He asked one question: “Is this reply acceptable? Doesn’t it seem too rude? Isn’t that exclamation too aggressive?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No—it’s self-suggestion. You must elevate your state. During conversation, stay as energized as possible. Use your own positive emotion to infect the other person. Exaggerated exclamations and frequent gestures help raise your energy…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shiler and Jason exchanged words smoothly. In less than half an hour, Shiler closed the book. “That’s it for today. Are you going back to your dorm to sleep, or…?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, I’ve got to return to the Tail. I heard Big Boss wants to see us. Everyone else is clueless—I’ve got to go.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shiler leaned back in his chair, relaxed. “Thank God it’s you teaching today. If it were Bruce…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He instinctively reached for a less friendly phrase—but remembered Bruce’s current state, and stopped. Hearing Bruce’s name, Jason wrinkled his nose.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s wrong?” Shiler asked. “Why that expression?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason snorted. “Isn’t he the creep who kidnaps kids? I heard several children vanished in his hands. I misjudged him before. Next time he shows up at school—he’s got it coming.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clearly, Jason had heard the Batman scandal. He knew Batman was Bruce Wayne, so he spoke without restraint. But Shiler said, “Heard? Who from?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The newspapers,” Jason replied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who writes the newspapers?” Shiler asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head. Shi Ler said: “Newspapers are written by people; as long as they’re human, they have biases. Imagine if your gang’s archenemy went to work at a newspaper—how would he write about you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shiler said, “Newspapers are written by people. People have biases. Imagine if your Tail’s rival boss got a job at the paper—how would he write about you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason immediately scowled. “He’d spread lies. Last time he accused me of skimming pay. It was him—he didn’t even let the kids keep their meager earnings…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Jason, don’t rely on hearsay. Don’t judge people by others’ profiles. Do your own work. Profile them yourself,” Shiler smiled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason pursed his lips. “But what if the newspaper’s right? Then I’m…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was about to nod hesitantly when Shiler suddenly changed his tone 180 degrees. “You’re right about Bruce. Stay away from him. He loves kidnapping kids, forcing them into tight suits, masks, turning them into Robins…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Listen, Jason—while you’re free to wear whatever you like, overly flamboyant costumes often stem from psychological issues. We call it transvestism…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course, if he has transvestism himself, we can’t stop him. But if he wants to force everyone else into that costume, that’s pure nonsense.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If he tells you he needs an assistant, wants you to become a hero, wants you to help him fight crime—don’t believe a single word!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason stared, bewildered. But Shiler kept going.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you see a man with green hair who laughs for no reason—avoid him. Don’t believe anything he says!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait—maybe it’s not just green hair…” Shiler touched his own hair. “If you see someone who looks exactly like me—don’t believe anything he says!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[61] Jason looked utterly lost.\u003C\u002Fp>",1604,"2026-06-20T16:39:22.658Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","651fa86f85ee18569a25aa3b00271800a09f95661f5077f97beb8863e7cd2530","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-810","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-808",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-cover.jpg"]