Chapter 845: Vandal Savage in Peril (Middle)

"You're short on money???!"

A startled cry echoed from the office of Gotham University, its thick layer of disbelief audible clearly even kilometers away.

Schiller stared wide-eyed at Bruce sitting across from him: "Say that again—what did you say you're short on???!"

"!"

Bruce spread his hands on the desk and said: "I'm short on money."

Schiller took a deep breath and said: "Bruce, do you think because you've handed in all your summaries and papers, I can't touch you anymore? You've got time to come here and mock me? Why not go back and explain to your butler why you didn't graduate as an outstanding student…"

"I'm serious." Bruce's expression was utterly serious. "Wayne Enterprises' liquidity is running dry. I need money—urgently."

"Then just invent something… oh, wait—your inventions don't sell well anyway. Go to the bank for a loan… never mind, you're too rigid to borrow. Just print it… forging cash isn't hard, but it'll cause inflation… alright, then how do you plan to make money?" Schiller asked, turning to Bruce.

Regardless, Batman was a good man—though sometimes obsessively fixated, appearing almost psychotic, his moral Dixian was certainly higher than most others'. It was still hard to imagine him swindling or launching ambushes.

Especially since direct bank robbery or counterfeiting would inevitably harm ordinary people—Bruce's refusal was understandable. But if he wanted to acquire large sums quickly through legitimate means, without touching those extremes, it was problematic.

At that moment, Bruce uttered a name: "Vandal Savage."

Schiller raised an eyebrow and said: "You're eyeing his fortune? Well, he should be rich enough…"

In DC Comics' design, Savage was extremely wealthy—reportedly hoarding untold riches over fifty thousand years. Though this premise was wildly unreasonable, at least Captain Cold and Mirror Master claimed he was currently in a phase of being rich and gullible.

Schiller smiled, sat down, and looked at Bruce: "So you mean you want to get some money from Savage—how exactly do you plan to do it?"

"I came here specifically to ask you how you'd do it." Bruce met Schiller's eyes. "I think you're better at this."

Schiller blinked, showing a look of mild surprise. He hadn't expected Batman to have changed so much—he'd finally learned the essence of deception and ambush: you don't have to do it yourself, or even know how to do it, but you must know who can.

"Alright, I suppose finding him, subduing him, even killing him isn't hard—but draining him dry? That's trickier." Schiller said.

"If Captain Cold is right, Savage has served as many kings throughout human history—he likely possesses a stubborn, unyielding nature. You could capture and imprison him, force him to reveal his wealth's source, but he might rather die than tell you."

"The only way to truly drain his wealth is to make him willingly hand it over." Schiller paused after saying this, and Bruce understood—perhaps his professor had switched personalities again.

Indeed, Schiller smiled warmly. Unlike his usual cold sneer, this smile was genuinely tender and comforting—except for the faintly chilling undertone, it had no flaws.

"If we want people to voluntarily empty their pockets, we must first understand what they desire most. What does Savage desire most?"

"World domination." Bruce answered.

"Correct—but that's merely a broad goal. To achieve it, he'll take countless actions: bribing the people of Central City, for instance—yet all paths ultimately lead to the same outcome."

"He bribed Central City's people, came to Gotham, and now he's here himself—this proves he has designs on Gotham, or believes Gotham plays a crucial role in his grand ambition of world domination."

"Before conquering the world, he wants to conquer Gotham first. I can only say—he's a man with a taste for challenge."

"I think he sees Gotham as chaotic, perfect for exploiting disorder. If he can unify this chaotic city, it could serve as a foothold for dominating the East Coast." Bruce understood Savage's thinking better.

After all, only someone who'd lived fifty thousand years without yet conquering the world would find such a strategy unremarkable.

"He has great ambitions for Gotham, and so far, he's met little resistance—so he believes his old methods still work. To make him change course and follow our path, we must first give him some resistance."

Schiller stood up, walked to the office whiteboard, drew a symbol, and said: "Psychologically, to guide someone to act according to your will, you must accomplish three things."

"First, you must create resistance—you must make him realize his old behavioral logic no longer works on you."

"Then, create an environment where he must rely on you."

"In this environment, you are his only option—but because of his behavioral patterns, even that single option rejects him. To regain security, he's forced to passively alter his logic and worldview to accommodate you. And after he pays such a heavy price to choose you, when he later wants to change, his sunk costs become his chains."

"Humans can be conditioned this way. In a closed environment with only one path, they're willing to pay the cost of changing themselves to walk it. Once on that path, they gradually let it reshape their worldview, eventually becoming its staunchest supporters—and when others try to pull them off, they feel resistance and fear."

"That's why many people, even when they know they've been scammed and clearly recognize the other party as a fraud, still believe him and keep paying—because their behavioral patterns have been conditioned."

Schiller tapped the whiteboard: "To exploit these theories in deception, you must hit several key points. First, create a closed environment—or make the target believe it is closed."

"Provide a sense of privacy, causing people to misjudge the consequences of their actions. In short: take before you give—make them believe their actions won't cost much, that any loss is negligible compared to what they already possess."

"For example, if I asked you to fetch me a glass of water, and in return, I'd answer a question you've always wanted to know—would you do it?"

Bruce looked at Schiller: "Perhaps in the past I would've done it—perhaps I even did. But now I won't. If I want to know an answer, I'll find it myself."

"Then why are you here now? You came to me voluntarily—not because I asked you to. You need something from me. All I asked was for you to fetch water—a trivial thing for you, yet it slightly offsets the cost of your time consuming mine."

Bruce opened his mouth to reply, but Schiller waved his hand: "I made it blunter, so you recognized it as manipulation—but with slight refinement, emotional appeals, and resonance, the core intent is easily hidden."

"Once you take that first step, conditioning begins. You think you lost nothing in that step—but in truth, you lost your most precious asset: autonomous judgment."

"Autonomous judgment means: when I say I want water, your first independent thought should be, 'Am I thirsty?'—because thirst drives you to drink, a judgment grounded in reality."

"But once you're trapped in thinking, 'Should I fetch water for him? What did I give? What did he give? What did I gain? What did he gain?'—your reality-based judgment weakens."

"Once you abandon facts and sink into mutual exchanges of gain and loss, everything spirals out of control."

"So…" Schiller looked at Bruce: "To make Savage willingly hand over his money, the first three steps are critical."

"You must first make him feel isolated, then give him resistance and hardship, forcing him to realize his old logic no longer works. Finally, blur his reality-based reasoning and redirect his thinking toward calculations of numerical gains and losses."

On the way out of the building, Bruce's ears kept echoing Schiller's words—he hadn't realized deception had such deep theoretical foundations.

Yet he also felt astonishment: human psychology and behavioral patterns seemed applicable to every human-related matter, granting decisive advantage.

If he hadn't learned these theories, but others had—they possessed knowledge beyond his comprehension and applied it in practice—how could he possibly restrain them?

There was only one path: if others learned, he must learn too—and learn better. Only then could he use poison to counter poison.

Thinking this, Bruce returned to Wayne Manor, pulled his thoughts back, and fixed his gaze on Savage.

Thanks to Schiller's explanation, his Silu had finally cleared. Pure violence could hardly force Savage to pay—but violence could pave the way for the next phase.

As Schiller said, he needed to give Savage some resistance, to make him realize his old method of throwing money at people no longer worked, forcing him to seek new approaches. And once he started thinking, God laughed.

If Savage sought a new solution, Bruce was certain his beloved professor would propose a breathtaking plan to help him conquer Gotham, clear the East Coast, unify North America, dominate the Americas, seize the Pacific, and reclaim global supremacy.

This plan, like Schiller himself, was excellent in every way—except it was a bit expensive.