In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group Chapter 69: Black Sun and Bat Light (Part 2)
"The Days of Being a Spiritual Mentor in Meiman"
"Hello? Help me transfer to Godfather, thank you."
"Good afternoon, godfather. I want to talk to you about a business..."
In the office of Arkham Psychiatric Hospital, Schiller put down the phone. He tugged on the phone line, blew the ashes off the receiver, poured himself a glass of wine, picked up the old-fashioned phone, and dialed in circles. Then say, "Hello, Brand? You're in Hawaii? ... No, don't worry, enjoy your vacation, I'll take care of it."
After a while, Bruce came in and put a stack of documents in front of Schiller. Schiller said, "I'm off work, would you like a drink?"
"Thank you, I won't drink."
"You seem a little haggard."
"After all, I haven't slept for almost fifty hours."
"Of course, the giant bat spotlight you made recently has been on all the time, and the whole Gotham knows that there is a Batman."
"But..." Bruce sighed, he hesitated and said, "Have a drink, thank you."
"What can make Batman drink away his sorrow?"
Bruce said: "I don't think I should do it. Bats don't light lights at all, and they shouldn't light lights."
Before Schiller asked, Bruce said: "I set up 6 bat beacons throughout Gotham. In the past few days, they lit up 25 times in total, 19 of which were pranks."
"So, I designed insurance for them. After that, I received 12 calls for help, all of which were gang fires, asking me to support them."
"I didn't allow the gangsters to use them, they just went out of their way to destroy them, of course, I designed the security program, it worked well, there were poor people and beggars to press them, and then the next day, they were killed by the gangsters."
Bruce covered his face, he took a deep breath, then took a sip of the wine, he swallowed the wine with difficulty, and said: "No one is saved, and no one is allowed to be saved. If this is Gotham, I want to say, well, I thought it was too simple."
"I knew... no bat would light a lamp," Bruce said finally.
"I suggest you take a break for a few days. When you encounter a problem, you sacrifice the rest time to solve it. Then you encounter a new problem and continue like this. This is a vicious circle. You have to stop. It is not beneficial."
Bruce said a little tiredly: "Okay, I'll go back to sleep and come to work tomorrow, copying medical records, answering calls, rounds, whatever."
The next day, Bruce did go to work on time as he said. Schiller was already sitting in the office, drinking a cup of steaming coffee. Bruce also made himself a cup of Americano and started with a paper. look.
After a while, a female nurse knocked on us and came in and said: "Doctor, Andre in Room 5 on the second floor has been making noises, and he has been asking the nurse to increase the dose of morphine analgesic, otherwise he will die." Complain to us."
Schiller didn't raise his head, and said flatly: "Give it to him, three times the market price, and five times the noise."
Bruce nearly choked on his coffee.
"Bird on the third floor wanted us to prescribe him headache medicine, and there was a lot of trouble last night."
"Tell him that the seller of pills fell off the guardrail yesterday and hit his head on the ground, and he is out of stock now."
"The one in Ward 6..." Schiller flipped through the files and said, "...Hall belongs to Gore, does he have some connections? Let him send someone in, and we'll be seven and three."
After the nurse left, before Bruce could speak, the phone rang again, and Schiller picked up the phone while looking at the file.
"Hello? The supply of whiskey is cut off?... Yes, the last bottle is here. Who said that he had a bar in his hand that day? Let me see... No. 1 on the fourth floor, let him lead a line from the bar Come here and tell him not to fool him with watered-down goods, or I will give him a diagnosis sheet for permanent treatment recommendations..."
Schiller hung up the phone, then picked up the handset to dial, and said to the other end of the phone:
"Tell them that killers are not allowed to enter. To enter, you must have a gate pass, one hundred thousand dollars, one for the inpatient department gate, one for fifty thousand, plus thirty thousand for wear and tear on the third floor, buy a full package and get a security patrol Figure..."
"Hello? Yesterday the equipment department said that the brain wave machine was broken. Whose is No. 2 on the fifth floor? Old Bender in the East District? Donate a machine and ask him to take him away. Come over later to get rehabilitation advice."
After hanging up the phone, Bruce said: "Professor..."
Before he finished speaking, the phone rang again, and Schiller picked it up and said, "Hello?... Didn't agree? Tell him that the twin brothers in the south are asking for $500,000, and it's not a buyout. If he doesn't Agree, then he doesn't want to get a penny from the wine business here."
"Hello? No, the Falcone family is responsible for the security of the Arkham Asylum. If he wants to break in, let him come. The godfather says hello to him."
As soon as Schiller hung up the phone, Bruce saw the timing and said, "Is there something wrong with this..."
"Hello? How many people are there tomorrow?... No, no, that little vulture can't squeeze out any oil and water, it's far worse than his father, let him go to prison, I don't accept junk here... He took his father's Got the property? Well, the No. 7 ward on the second floor is left for him... what? Medical certificate? That's another price..."
"...Put the remaining three until next month, let the judge find a reason, diarrhea or something, there is no place on the fifth floor... There is still a policeman? Black policeman? Found?... We accept the mentally ill, not mentally handicapped, if you want to come in, you can go to his old employer..."
"Who else? No, he can't... Already arrested? Then let the police put the evidence back and find that surnamed Brock, he will understand..."
After Schiller finished his work, when he looked up, Bruce was staring at him, his eyes were complicated, a little bit of shock of "how could this be so", and a little bit of contempt of "it really is".
"Don't look at me, the hospital is doing fine now, isn't it?"
"But..."
Bruce opened his mouth, he wanted to question Schiller, but he didn't know where to start.
"I made a deal with Falcone. He manipulated the black gloves to **** off some oily gangsters, and then let the police chief under him arrest and interrogate them. I gave them a psychiatric diagnosis and admitted them to the hospital. , As for the future, it depends on whether their boss or enemy pays more."
Bruce stared at Schiller, and Schiller spread his hands and said, "What? It's incredible? Or do you really think I'm a good person like Harvey? What makes you have this illusion?"
Bruce was speechless.
In the next few days, Bruce watched as Schiller couldn't beat him and joined... No, he didn't join, but created a new Gotham-style industrial chain out of thin air with great creativity.
His good professor blended into Gotham at the speed of light without looking back, and he was better than blue.
But Bruce can't say anything, this perfect Gotham industry chain, only the gangsters are injured.
From the perspective of results, the gangsters were cheated of money, Arkham Mental Hospital quickly established order, and the medical staff were safe. The gangsters in the hospital were even more obedient. , this gang boss will say thank you to him the hell!
They thought Bruce was a doctor who could prescribe painkillers for them. Several gangsters saw that he was close to Schiller, and they handed him cigar covers every day, trying to make Schiller let go and let them put the thread on. Also brought in.
Once, Bruce went to follow Schiller to see a case. During the break, he heard the gang boss next door chatting.
"Colt is a bad boy, a complete bastard, he got his own absinthe, and had the other one smashed up, just to monopolize the liquor business here, he and the twins clashed... ..."
"If you want me to say, he did it very neatly. After all, it is a big business worth several million dollars."
"There are so many?"
"The red head downstairs earned 20,000 yuan a week by selling cigarettes here! Who doesn't smoke here? Who doesn't smoke cigars? He can get good goods from the pier, and some people come in specially, just to Get this smuggling line..."
"Room 2 also made a lot of money. No one knows that he got lucky and got on the line with His Excellency the Godfather. Next season, he will have another restaurant."
"The nurses will come over later, put out the cigarettes, be careful not to offend those girls, they are all black widows under the hands of Mother Heart..."
In the past few days, what he saw in this hospital made Bruce feel extremely complicated and tangled.
Bruce thought, what would he do instead? He thought for a long time, and then admitted that he really didn't think of a more efficient and aboveboard method.
One night, Schiller was in the ward and said to a woman without feet: "It's not bad, the medicine is already working, and the hyperactivity will disappear soon..."
The woman was lying on the bed, very calm, or a little numb, as if she couldn't hear Schiller, but Schiller still said to himself: "There have been a lot of cases recently, but it doesn't matter, the psychological diagnosis and treatment is almost done. It's over..."
His voice is very suitable for such a night, always with a kind of calm strength.
When Schiller turned around, he found Batman standing behind him. Batman said in a low voice, "Why did she get transferred here?"
"You cured the beggar's physical problems and helped her complete the amputation operation, but she has some congenital mental problems and was sent in before..."
Schiller glanced at Batman, the corners of his mouth were always down. Compared with the daytime, he always looked cold and sharp, making it difficult to approach.
"You seem to be surprised, why? Don't you think that I will only join forces with gangsters? What makes you have this illusion?"
Batman has been silent~IndoMTL.com~ Schiller ignored him, turned around, turned down the head of the woman's bed, and then pulled up the sheet.
Schiller didn't look at Batman, just asked himself: "Do you feel disappointed?"
"For this ungrateful city, for those who are not worth saving, and won't let you save anyone?"
"Do you think the decision of Bat Light is right?" Batman's deep voice echoed in the ward.
Schiller paused and said:
"Don't be disappointed. The black sun is also the sun. It is true that bats cannot light lamps, but in the dark night, the lamps lit by bats are also lamps."
The cold light shone on the white sheets of the hospital, and Schiller leaned over to straighten the sheets at the corner of the bed.
Outside the window, Gotham's night was still dimly lit. Schiller straightened up and turned his head to look out the window. Batman saw that Schiller was against the light, and the moonlight cast a long shadow behind him.
Batman looked up, and he saw his shadow on most of the walls and ceiling, a pitch-black bat with pointed ears.
A bat can't light a lamp, he doesn't even have a lamp that can illuminate himself, there has never been a lamp in this world for him, and there hasn't been a single firefly for many years.
But now, the bat still decides to learn how to light a lamp, for the dark night here, for this hopeless city.
Batman also looked out of the window, at the dotted and almost invisible lights in the darkness, he thought, if the sun will not rise one day in this city full of absurdities, then at least , On the eve of the end, in this cold night with dimly lit lights, there are still his lamps.
A light that is useless to be on, and is also on when it is useless.
Lamp lit by a bat.