"He's simply too busy with mundane affairs to sit down and talk to me right now. But that's okay. As I said, he will be more interested in our conversation, so he will surely listen carefully to the monitoring device."
"I will handle Batman first. Come over and help me fix the microphone. You can leave then."
Jason hesitated on the spot. After a few seconds, he walked towards Shiller and said as he went, "You know attacking me is pointless, right? You can't win."
"As a doctor, I wouldn't normally choose to attack anyone," Schiller said, seeming somewhat helpless. "I can assure you that Batman has not approached me, and you don't need to worry about him attacking you from afar."
Jason's pace speeded up slightly. They were not too far apart. It only took four or five steps to reach each other, but the closer he got to Schiller, the more oppressive Jason felt.
This was a difficult feeling to put into words. It seemed as though he was walking towards a ferocious beast, yet at a glance it seemed as if it was just an illusion.
The Paisley pattern on his tie was too complex, it made one dizzy just looking at it. Jason had to look away, but the stripes on the suit were not any better. They twisted and distorted in his field of vision, making him feel top-heavy.
Taking another step, those damn cashew patterns and alternating stripes became even more glaring. But the distance between the two was fixed, and to avoid looking at such things, Jason would have to turn his head at an unnatural angle. He absolutely did not want to show Schiller that he was backing away.
So he looked up to see Schiller's face, and it was his gray eyes that were the most striking.
As Jason stared into Shiller's eyes and took a step forward, some images briefly flickered in front of him.
A pair of long and strong hands held a shining needle, slowly approaching the field of vision. Getting closer and closer, closer and closer.
The most terrifying thing was not the pain of the needle piercing the eyeball, but the excruciatingly long process of approaching. Pain already inflicted could be endured by clenching your teeth. The pain not yet inflicted, however, could not.
Nothing could withstand this kind of fear. The fear humans felt when they saw torture devices was greater than the actual pain they would feel.
Jason felt suffocated. As he took another step forward, another image flashed by. Torn arm muscles, broken bones, entangled together, becoming nauseating.
The other fear that torture brought was that after irreversible mutilation, people still had to live with their scarred and ugly bodies, carrying these humiliating painful memories towards the end of their not-so-long lives.
The fear such associations bring to humans is much stronger than the pain they suffer at the time it is inflicted.
Jason felt a somewhat unbearable pain from the J-shaped scar on his face, and suddenly some stares and glances became vivid in his memory.
What did Nightwing think of him when he took off his mask, shocked, sympathetic, or disgusted and mocking? And the Robin who replaced him, he must have been the happiest, wasn't he?
How could Batman accept a man who had been imprisoned by the Joker as his assistant? He doubted everything in the world, so how could he not doubt that he had once revealed his secret to the Joker?
What did he betray to survive?
Everyone would think this way, heroes are those who are dead, and those who survive are traitors.
Instinctively taking another step forward, Jason saw a pair of shiny leather shoes and two legs wearing straight suit trousers.
He felt himself fall to the ground on all fours. As the other person retreated a step, he moved forward, like a dog wagging its tail for food.
Yes, this is the final step of such torture that destroys the will. It makes them realize what they have given up and who they have become in order to survive.
Let them understand that from then on, they would live just to exist, not as a person.
Jason was consumed by the intense fear, and Shiller's voice sounded like it was coming from a faraway place.
"Are you okay? Jason, perhaps calling Batman directly would be a better choice..."
Schiller turned to put the device in his hand on the table next to him, and suddenly Jason lunged over like a madman to grab the recorder and the microphone from Schiller's hand.
Schiller instinctively raised his arm and took a step back. Jason roared at him, "Give it to me! Give it to me!"
Schiller's arm was grabbed by Jason, and then Jason took all the wires and the microphone from the recorder with his other hand and slammed them hard onto the ground.
With a "pap" sound, all the devices turned into fragments.
Schiller lowered his arm, stood somewhat helplessly on the spot, and pointed at Jason, saying: "You do know there is more than one recording device here, right? This is pointless and very rude. I hope you can stop your violent behavior right now, Jason."
Jason turned his head and rushed towards the door, saying in a hoarse voice, suppressing some sort of intense emotion, "Drive! We're going to that house!"
Schiller stood in place and watched Jason leave, his face expressionless. And after Jason disappeared from the doorway, Schiller slowly pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket.
The bottom of the handkerchief was slightly moist. Shiller spread out the soft handkerchief in his hand and drew out a syringe from his pants pocket.
More liquid dripped onto the handkerchief that had just dried a bit, and Schiller murmured to himself: "No, Gray Mist, this is not wine, you can't drink it. It's just Fear Toxin Concentrate."
Jason, who had rushed out of the Batcave, had never revered Gotham's cool morning breeze so much. He took a deep breath and thought back to his behavior just now.
At the last moment, he was not wild and crazy, but suddenly awake. Jason's rationality had told him that he was only a pawn, while Batman was crucial.
Whether it was the Joker, Scarecrow, Penguin Man, they hurt Batman's family, it's not because they have a grudge against Robin and them, but to threaten Batman with them.
No matter what kind of supercriminals did to the people around Batman, the target was always Batman.
It was the same when he was kidnapped by the Joker, the Joker didn't want to gain any information by torturing him. Jason dared to say he might not understand Batman as much as the Joker does.
Joker tortured him only to use this as a way to influence Batman.
So, by reverse inference, if Schiller weren't as good a person as he claimed, but managed to convincingly assume some identity in Batman's eyes, then his plan could only be to pose as a psychologist to treat himself, but instead influence Batman through the process.
Then Batman's tendency to deeply monitor everything would play right into Schiller's hands.
Jason had seen Batman make mistakes due to the Joker's verbal harassment which led to serious consequences.
So, he doesn't think that Schiller can't hurt Batman in reality just because he can't physically reach him- he understands that the words of a certain type of supervillain are mightier than their fists.
So he destroyed the communication device left by Batman and planned to get to the safe house before Schiller, removing all surveillance cameras and eavesdropping devices there.
He knew how risky this was, and what situation it would put him in.
If Jason had to describe his feelings towards this Dr. Schiller, and the difference compared with the Joker, he would say that the Joker made him disappointed because Batman didn't come to save him, while Schiller made him hope that Batman wouldn't come.
Boarding the slightly old-fashioned Jaguar, Jason saw a note left by Nightwing on the steering wheel containing the address of Batman's prepared safe house.
This safe house was on a small island on the East Coast line. They needed not only to drive, but also to take a boat.
The good news is, the location was surely an isolated wasteland; the bad news was the same.
Jason sat in the driver's seat looking at the note until Schiller approached and leaned over to look at the passenger window- as expected, he didn't readily let Jason go ahead of him.
Jason took a deep breath, unlocked the car door, and Schiller pulled the door open to get in.
Jason detected a faint scent of cologne, which reminded him of Batman's technical consultant Lucius who frequented the Batcave-- the man who was always suited up and paid great attention to his appearance.
Jason rolled down the window and started the car. To his amazement, Schiller didn't start a conversation at once. He thought it might be better that way since the car probably had surveillance devices.
Jason inherited Batman's driving style. If it wasn't that the average car couldn't move like the Batmobile, they would have been flying from rooftops already.
"Does violent behavior make you feel more secure?" Schiller asked.
Jason didn't respond to him. He entered a stage of silent resistance. But Schiller just kept talking: "I hope we can set some ground rules. I hope that in the coming days, you won't resort to violent means to destroy our living environment, and it would be best to keep your distance from me."
"Are you scared?"
"Jason, you'll soon realize that I'm not one for idle chatter." Schiller turned to look at Jason and said, "Every word I say has meaning. If you don't understand, just follow what I say."
"Batman has never tried to order me around like this."
"This is not an order, just some heartfelt advice. If you don't listen, there will be consequences, perhaps not the ones you'd hope for."
Jason snorted dismissively, not affected. The car sped along, leaving the bustling city behind, heading towards the suburbs.
Finally, after a long winding road that cut across the wilderness, they saw the dock on the horizon. Amid the gloomy daylight of Gotham, Jason found a brand new boat in a warehouse nearby.
He pushed the boat out of the warehouse, into the water. Schiller was the first one to step aboard and sit down, while Jason sat by the engine.
"Do you think those fancy, expensive clothes of yours would help you flounder in the water if I threw you overboard now?"
"Firstly, I can swim. Secondly, you'd better speed up because I get seasick." As Schiller turned to look at the nearby island, it was clear they were at sea.
He displayed no abnormalities, but he was all too aware of the discomfort in his body. Comparing his symptoms mentally, Schiller realized it seemed to be physiological, not psychosomatic.
Jason deliberately navigated the boat slowly.
At sea, the wind stirred waves on the water surface. The slower the boat, the bigger the sway. Then Schiller discovered his seasickness had nothing to do with the rocking of the boat- he appeared to be allergic to the sea.
Schiller's face turned pale, though he remained calm. He didn't glance at the deliberately procrastinating Jason, just stared out at the ocean.
"How do you feel?" Jason showed a nasty grin. Then, seemingly unafraid, he asked, "What price will you make me pay for this? Drive a needle into my eye, break my arm, or perform some body modification surgery?"
"None of the above, Jason." Schiller downcast his eyes, "I'm a doctor. I'm not that evil."
"You're ten times more evil." Jason looked at him and said: "Don't think I don't know what tricks you've been playing. I'm having hallucinations not because I'm mentally ill, but because of whatever you're doing."
"It's for your own good, Jason."
Unexpectedly, Schiller admitted to it. Finally looking at Jason again, he said, "I hope you'll remember everything you see."
"You think I'll be scared?"
"No." Schiller's tone finally got serious, "Instead of coping with fear, you should learn how to instill fear in others, shouldn't you?"