In some old record players, a lively jazz tune is playing. In front of a display case, Shiller is polishing a crystal sculpture with a piece of suede.
Despite merely being cleanliness work, his demeanor is nonetheless intensely focused, occasionally extending his arm to distance the sculpture, appraising it with considerable seriousness. Paired with the melodious tune, it feels like he is waltzing with an invisible dance partner.
"Shiller seems utterly relaxed," Hal commented with a frown. "He's even more relaxed than when vacationing in Seashore City. Can it be that gloomy Gotham weather outshines the blazing Sun of Seashore City?"
"You can't expect everyone to thrive in sunlight," Bruce addressed stoically. "A day of constant sunshine and a day of ceaseless rain are essentially the same."
"Give me a break," Clark disagreed emphatically. "Humans are creatures of the sun; it gives us energy."
"That's just you," Bruce turned to look at him.
"I can't quite figure him out—Gotham's Batman is no easy handle. If I cross paths with him, I'd definitely avoid him," Constantine coughed lightly. "Yet, it seems that Shiller is quite content. Haven't you noticed? He is enjoying all of this."
"There does seem to be some difference," Clark rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "When he left Gotham, his mental state was in shambles. Bruce improved a lot after staying at my place for a while, but Professor Shearer appears increasingly weary."
"Despite only a few days' time, I still feel that Shiller is faring much better than when we were in our universe," Clark shrugged, speaking the truth, "He's spirited."
"Perhaps it's some sort of chemical reaction among mental patients," Lucifer's voice chimed in.
"Have you all ever considered that what conventional wisdom deems a relaxed and leisurely life might not be normal for Shiller?" Morbid's voice echoed slowly. "That's not how he lives. Perhaps this is."
"He comprehends your kind intention, aware that you can derive joy from that relaxing life and wanting to share the joy with him. Therefore, he never disclosed to you that he doesn't actually enjoy that lifestyle," Greed shook his head gently.
"By chance, you managed to do something right," Morbid chuckled with a deep rumble. "Sounds unbelievable, right? He relishes this life where he pits his wits against Batman. Since it's not torturing him, there's no need for change."
"Question is, isn't Batman in pain?" Clark raised his pitch. "Isn't he tired enough? Conducting business by day, patrolling by night, constantly engaged in battles of wits with all sorts of lunatics, and now there's one more madman. For heaven's sake, who will save him?"
"Do you truly believe that Batman is in pain?" Morbid gave a light chuckle, but before Clark could answer, they saw Shiller had already appeared on the screen, opening the door.
Standing outside the door was Batman.
Though they had already met several times that day, it didn't seem to bring about any feeling of weariness. Following the completion of the first phase of his patrol, Batman timely returned to Shiller's residence.
Shiller wasted no moment in opening the door for him, gesturing him to enter, and setting a bottle of pre-prepared wine on the table.
They settled down by the window on the first floor again. The light from the street lamps reflected off the Gotham River, casting a dim orange glow onto everything in front of the window.
"I can hardly imagine that one day, I'd be having such a conversation with the world's greatest detective," Shiller took a sip of sparkling wine. The dense bubbles exploded on his taste buds giving a stimulating and invigorating flavor, regardless of his preference for traditional fortified wines.
Batman didn't pick up his glass, he merely watched the wine in his cup silently. "I didn't expect that I'd be discussing something other than homicide cases with someone."
"While fully aware that I'm possibly the Joker?"
"No." Batman resolutely denied. "You're not the Joker. You're nothing like him. You're not endless chaos and insanity, you're still in control."
"Sounds like an insult," Shiller retorted without mincing words. "I admit it, but I have to say, a deliberate and limited madness can perhaps be stronger than sheer disorder and chaos, just like Batman often triumphs over the Joker."
"'Often triumphs'," Batman savored these few words, then shook his head lightly. "If it were someone else, I would certainly underline this; Batman always wins. But I know it can't frighten you, because you know more about me than I've imagined."
"How many times have you lost?" Shiller asked.
"More times and more badly than you could imagine."
Batman's voice always blended marvelously into the music. His deep voice would typically be more compatible with a major symphony, but coupled with lively jazz, it didn't seem strikingly odd. It actually seemed as if he was harmonizing with the jazz.
Shiller lightly chuckled then said, "You might think I'd ask you for an example. But I can imagine what you've done. You focus too much on certain rational matters, or care too much about victory or defeat, never accepting defeat. This results in the people you care about suffering a great deal."
"But that's not what causes you the most anguish. Instead, it's that after they endured unimaginable pain, they returned to your side. Even though they didn't say it, they still love you and worry about your loneliness, so they remain by your side."
"That's why I say, you're not the Joker." Batman's blue eyes, hidden in the darkness, appear even bluer than usual.
"The Joker wants me to laugh, but like all other psychologists in the world, you want your patients to cry."
"Crying isn't a solution, but venting emotions and regaining strength is, perhaps it could also be a way to regain a smile?"
"You must have experienced it, to describe it so aptly, but what makes you talk about it so casually? Is it a courage most people lack? Or is it an objective, rational, detached third-party perspective that both of you and I have experienced?"
"It's not." Shiller shook his head lightly and said, "If you can calmly look at your own wounds and those of others, it's not indifference that you need, but reconciliation with the guilt in your heart."
The tones of both Shiller and Batman were slow and low, as if hypnotizing the air, and the audience in the theatre also felt themselves being hypnotized, their thoughts fluctuating with each word they spoke.
Constantine concentrated, seemingly wanting to hear how to reconcile with guilt. To some degree, he needed this secret the most, not just in response to what Shiller had done to him, but because he had too many things and people he owed guilt towards.
"Do you know why I chose to study psychology?" Shiller started with a question.
The answer that flashed across Batman's mind made him hesitate whether to speak it out, because it might seem a bit narrow-minded, but in the end he said, "To understand others, to understand their thoughts, to guard against them."
"One of the reasons, but not the main one."
Shiller shook his head gently, took another sip of wine, and said, "Just as you deduced, I have also hurt those close to me, and directly, with serious consequences."
"It was this incident that made me firmly choose psychology. Indeed, I wanted to understand the psychology of others, but more importantly, I wanted to know what enables people to overcome their greatest fear of death. Despite knowing they may be hurt, they do not flee but wait, like a lamb to the slaughter."
"Perhaps you've never thought about how the fear of death can drive people to do things, how it can trigger such powerful instincts. As long as people are afraid, they are capable of anything."
"People always say that humans lack the sharp fangs and talons of beasts, but those deadly weapons are hidden in the human soul. If they want to resist, there is nothing they cannot tear apart, especially when faced with the brink of death."
Batman fell silent, but seemed to think of something. Shiller blinked and then continued, "Yet when I hurt them, they defied their instincts, not resisting, not running."
"Maybe they were powerless to resist?" Batman said softly.
"You underestimate the potential of human beings. Think carefully about the images that flashed past in your mind. Did the person being hurt really have no chance to resist at all? Or, to take a step back, did they not even have a chance to escape or retreat?"
At the landing of this question, Batman had already got the answer, of course not, there was absolutely a chance if they really wanted to escape.
"This defiance of their instincts is what fascinates me the most."
"So what have you found out?"
"Love and hope."
"Sounds very cliché." Shiller explained, "Like the ending of a drama that airs during prime time, what the protagonist says to their descendants. But magically, the answers given by professionals are also like this."
"The victim's love for his enemy?" Batman seemed unconvinced.
"No, hatred doesn't convert to love. If there is a similar phenomenon, it's likely the aftereffect of abuse. What I'm referring to is the hope they have for the ones they love. They believe that the people they love won't let them down and will save them."
"But such thinking only deepens guilt, because the ones they love didn't save them, and they got hurt." Batman said.
"But it's precisely this love and hope that bring them back to us, and at that time, that hope remains undiminished. The hurt they suffered didn't lead them into despair, because they still hold hope that we can become better."
To Batman, Shiller's voice sounded somewhat like the tremor of a string instrument, causing disquiet in his heart.
"And the only way we can fulfil their hope is to try to become better. But if we really can't, we don't have to force ourselves because those who can tolerate such pain without losing hope, their love for you is nobler than you think."
"Such love does not demand you to become their ideal image, only simply wishing you happiness. If you feel that you don't need to change, then don't."
"They must have seen the pain brought by your inner conflicts and guilt, they wouldn't wish that upon you, because they have forgiven you in a nobler way - by returning to your side."
"Your suspicion of their harboring vengeance is a sheer narrow-minded prejudice, it tramples on their nobility, uses small-minded thinking to measure the actions of a gentleman, and wastes their good intentions."
"Enough."