Batman closed his eyes, and he felt as though he was falling, plummeting into the vast ocean of knowledge within his mind.
Just as Shiller had a towering Thought Palace, Batman had one too.
The knowledge he had accumulated was sorted and stored in a massive library within his mind, and as he leapt from the top of this library, he was surrounded by the essence of all human knowledge.
Snippets of history flashed before his eyes, the Enlightenment, Paris Commune, October Revolution... a myriad of figures standing amidst the crowd to speak, spinning his head dizzy.
In looking throughout history, in every drastic change that has occurred, ideological guidance was a common denominator. The pioneers who penned spirited words and pointed at the hills and rivers, it was always their grand ideals that truly resonated.
Batman realized during his time living among those at the bottom, saving Gotham was not about feeding everyone with his wealth; he too, one day, must face death.
He couldn't be a king, handing down his kingdom to the next generation, because the inherent laws of dynasties indicated a vicious cycle to Batman. Perhaps the pioneer is ambitious, but the next generation, and the generation after that, across subsequent generations, dragonslayers eventually become dragons.
If he were to save Gotham spiritually and mentally, to awaken the people from their numbness, there would need to be grand ideals as bright as the sun and sufficiently robust guiding thoughts.
Could he create such a mindset?
Batman didn't know. His intelligent brain allowed him to answer virtually any technical issue in an instant. However, when it came to philosophy, sociology, and psychology, he always felt an insurmountable barrier.
If he had to be specific, he understood all the theories, memorized every concept, but when it came to considering other people, other classes, other groups' feelings, Batman could only assess from an indifferent and rigid outsider perspective.
Ever since he began consciously learning, he had hardly ever truly placed himself in other people's shoes, always separated from others' emotions by a thick wall.
Batman didn't know if this was normal, but he was vaguely and fleetingly uncertain whether Shiller was right, that he was ill.
Batman had always thought it was just a piece of ordinary debris from Shiller's blunt, egalitarian speech. At least, in Batman's sense, his interactions with Shiller were divided into three sections: doubt, thesis, and Shiller's insults.
And, since Shiller was also one of the Jokers, Batman didn't know if Shiller was using his insults as a means to vent his grudges.
He had never considered whether Shiller, as a fully licensed psychiatrist, was genuinely diagnosing him.
Thinking of this, Batman suddenly had an urgent desire to see Shiller, but just as he was about to act, two Miniature Demons ran towards the fire screaming: "Bad news! Merkel! There.....there is a group of strange demons surrounding us!!"
As Batman recovered his senses, Merkel's voice echoed in his ear: "It seems the bunch that collapsed the Central Mine followed us here. Well, we've almost finished preparing anyway. Get ready to move."
To Batman's surprise, the two Miniature Demons didn't ask any questions but nodded their heads and ran off. Batman hesitated for a moment but even so, asked: "Did you send them to pass the order? Are you sure they won't.....?"
Batman didn't finish his sentence before Merkel got his point. He cut in: "I know what you're worried about. These little guys' language logic is confused, their minds unclear, but it's okay. I've trained them specifically."
"'Let's roll' has different implications for different groups. I tell them that when I say this phrase, each group should go ahead and do the assigned work I've already arranged."
"They don't need to know what 'let's roll' means, they just need to remember the sound of the phrase, and do the corresponding action when they hear it."
Merkel shrugged his shoulders, got up, and as Batman was about to speak, Merkel said: "Sounds like training dogs, right? But oftentimes that's how agents are instructed too, responding to specific phrases, asking too many questions does no one any good."
Batman asked, "Didn't you say before that the agent training you conduct is not the type that requires blind obedience?"
Merkel laughed and replied, "Ideals are grand, but on the road to achieving them, we must consider the actual situation. Sometimes, work needs efficiency, and there's no harm in performing conditioned reflex training."
Watching Merkel heading towards the mine, Batman noticed something surprising: this man, much younger than Alfred, shared a similar trait with him. No matter what problem arose, they seemed to always find a logically consistent answer.
Could their study truly provide answers to all questions in this world? But if that were the case, why hadn't Alfred ever actively taught him?