When it got a bit later, Shiller called Harley, who practically sprinted over, and said in utter disbelief, "You're selling the house?! This mansion?"
Shiller, while recalling the names of guests to invite to the farewell party, replied, "Yes, most people here have already moved away, and the community will soon decline. I came back a little late, and the house isn't easy to sell now, so I need your help."
Harley showed a somewhat sad expression, looked up at Shiller's study, and said, "We've spent quite a few days here, haven't we? This mansion is actually pretty nice, isn't it?"
"Yes, but it has indeed become somewhat unsuitable for modern living."
"You're actually a modern person? That's really surprising to me!"
Shiller smiled and said, "Don't be shocked just yet, you'll be even more surprised later on because next I'm going to talk to you about money."
Harley immediately opened her mouth in exaggerated shock, then covered her mouth and looked at Shiller as if he was a rare creature.
"I know you might want to buy this mansion and keep it as a memento, but I don't think it's necessary. There's actually no trace of life left here, nothing that needs to be treasured."
"But what about those memories?" Harley asked, "The memories that come to mind when you see the furniture and decorations here?"
"Those are in your head, Harley, not in the house, nor on the furniture."
"That's you. You can replicate familiar rooms perfectly in your Tower of Thought, naturally retaining those memories, but what about me and Jason? We spent part of our childhood here; you can't deny that."
Shiller's brow furrowed slightly, a look of pain flitting across his features. After a long silence, he finally said, "If you two want to relive your childhood, you could visit the rooms in my Tower of Thought."
"Hooray!!!" Harley cheered, "I've wanted to go there for so long, but you always said some rooms are dangerous and wouldn't let me in."
"In fact, they are quite dangerous, and you can't go in. You only can..."
"Let's talk about it once I'm in," Harley said cheerfully. After staring at Shiller for a while, she said, "I feel like you've changed a lot, Shiller. You always used to avoid getting too involved with people. If it weren't for being at a point where this is the only solution, you wouldn't invite anyone."
"I don't really see this as an invitation, it's just that if I sell the house, then you'll probably only be able to revisit your childhood in the Tower of Thought."
"But you didn't have to sell the house." Harley walked up to the desk, stood directly opposite Shiller, leaned forward with her hands on the desk, and stared at his face, "You don't need the money that badly, nor do you need to earn it through such legitimate means. Are you trying something?"
"Don't try to psychoanalyze me, miss," Shiller said, looking up at Harley, who was towering over him, "You should be thinking about yourself. You're about to go to college, aren't you?"
"I'm not."
"Of course you are. You claimed to be older than you are to emphasize your adulthood to Gordon. According to the age on your current records, you should already be a freshman."
"Uh... that was just an accident," Harley said with an embarrassed expression. "I think there's no need to go to college so soon. I mean, those stupid boys will definitely find it boring without me. I'll stay and play with them for a few more years."
"Don't change the subject," Harley slammed her hand on the desk and looked at Shiller, "What I mean is, you really don't have to force yourself. The old way wasn't unlivable. If the strong desire to change comes from within you, the pain can naturally be overcome, but if it's to meet the expectations of others..."
Shiller averted his gaze, not looking directly at Harley. He started to detach, and it took a great effort for Harley to call him back to the conversation. Then she said, "Okay, it looks like you're determined not to face this issue head-on. So, after I help you sell the house, we'll talk."
"Are you trying to give therapy to the world's most famous psychologist?" Shiller asked her.
"So what if I am? I'm planning to study psychology at the university. I'm really sorry, but your outstanding student Bruce is going to drop down the ranking list because I will absolutely be the top of the class."
Harley straightened up, raising her face with a smile, "It's a shame I'll be going to college earlier than Jason. Otherwise, I'd love to see his wonderful expression when he comes in second."
"You look like the kind of schoolgirl who, when having a crush on someone, deliberately causes trouble for them," Shiller commented.
"You are truly the world's most famous psychologist," Harley said. "Give me the contract you had for buying the house. I need to hurry and see if I can find a sucker for you."
Shiller handed Harley the house documents, but he knew they would meet again soon. Harley was bound to come to his Thought Palace tonight, recklessly enter some dangerous room, scream as she was chased, and then he'd have to rescue her.
The guest list for the farewell party was nearly formed. Shiller could have continued organizing, but he was somewhat unable to resist the urge to go see the new house. The contract was signed, the money was paid, the house was now his, and although a lot of stuff hadn't been moved yet, maybe he could spend the night there.
But if he was going, since he'd have to drive anyway, why not take some necessities. Shiller pushed open his bedroom door, momentarily unsure where to start.
He needed to take his bedding for the night, lesson plans for tomorrow, a pile of books for preparing the lesson plans, cleaning supplies, and he even planned to take a set of electrician's tools Merkel had used before to check the issue with the unstable TV current.
His car's trunk was rather small at the moment and may not fit all these items. It would be too much trouble to move everything down there and then find out it wouldn't fit.
Calling a moving company now seemed like making too much of a fuss. After a moment's thought, Shiller went downstairs, picked up the Yellow Pages, and started flipping through them. After a long search, he finally dialed a number.
"Hello? Jack? I've got some stuff to... no, there's no Shredder, but actually, the Shredder could... fine, then go back to sleep. Do you know Waylon's number?"
Shiller jotted down a string of numbers, took a deep breath before dialling, he hadn't actually had a proper conversation with Killer Croc. Killer Croc Waylon was a friend of a friend, which essentially meant he was a stranger.
"Hello, I am Shiller."
Shiller could tell the person on the other end had probably jumped out of bed at the mention of his name, but that wasn't surprising; his name could indeed be quite startling, especially coming from the friends of Killer Croc, like Bruce and Jack.
"It's like this, I'm moving, but not right now, I just need to take some essentials to my new house now, then I'm officially moving tomorrow. Do you have tonight and tomorrow available..."
"No, I'm not asking for your help, I just want to hire..."
Killer Croc on the other end babbled a heap of things, Shiller listened silently for a while and then said, "Thanks for your kindness, Mr. Jones, I know you're out of work right now, so I'll pay you a wage."
"No, nobody introduced you to me, I do need to move, it's probably a coincidence, God bless you."
After hanging up the phone, Shiller thought for a long time. At first, Killer Croc had said that a friend of a friend is also his friend and it was no big deal to help out, but Shiller knew from Zatanna that Killer Croc had lost his job and was looking for a new one.
Labor in Gotham wasn't as expensive as in most American cities and it's even cheaper now, even if he paid the going rate of a moving company's hourly wage it wouldn't be much, so Shiller decided to still hire him.
But Killer Croc misinterpreted it as if Bruce or Jack had recommended him to Shiller, as if the two of them were doing a favor for Shiller.
Shiller sighed; ordinary people are always like this, their every interaction is complex, filled with intense emotions, constantly interpreting other's kindness, learning to accept it, and then seeing it as a burden they want to repay.
To ordinary people, this seems like a natural instinct to learn, but Shiller knew it wasn't, it wasn't one of the human race's basic instincts, but rather a form of social discipline, warm in its connotations because it benefits individuals and the community—hence it's called "favors" rather than a colder term.
Killer Croc arrived soon after, with a crocodile head that looked somewhat terrifying in the night. Shiller was actually a bit curious whether Killer Croc, like crocodiles, was a cold-blooded animal.
But it didn't seem to be the case now, as Killer Croc performed the task of moving stuff quite efficiently, not at all affected by the cool of the night. The van he drove was a small box van, surprisingly sporting a large photo of himself on it.
"I was actually thinking of starting a moving company," Killer Croc said in a muffled voice: "I was just a bit short of the start-up capital. But the last job site I worked on is done, and there haven't been any new ones lately, so I've been doing odd jobs, some moving work."
Shiller stared at the photo of Killer Croc on the van, the Croc in the picture was baring his teeth and roaring. No matter how one looked at it, the photo was very much in Gotham style, simply put, a bit terrifying.
Moreover, a square-shaped photo on a square van, slightly skewed, with no text whatsoever, it was confusing and unclear what the purpose was.
"That's not good advertising," Shiller shook his head and said.
"Yes, it was just a quick snapshot Bruce took for me." Killer Croc pulled out his phone, the small device looking like a toy in his large claws, as he carefully pressed the keys to show Shiller his photo gallery.
Inside were plenty of his pictures with Jack, Bruce, and Gordon, mostly at smoky food stalls and, of course, at the police station.
"What were you doing at the police station?" Shiller asked curiously, pointing at one of the photos.
"Of course, it's to help James," Killer Croc said with a grin, "Some really tough criminals to interrogate, they start screaming and wetting themselves as soon as I show up, this trick always works. If that doesn't work, then Jack steps in, he's got quite a reputation, and if he can't handle it, then it's Bruce's turn, who dares to talk back to Bruce Wayne?"
For the first time, Shiller saw a bright smile on the Croc's face, as if he didn't care that he was actually the least intimidating of the three.
But maybe that didn't matter; after all, he wasn't making a living off being intimidating. With that in mind, Shiller thought again about the advertisement on the van, it had plenty of intimidating power but lacked promotional power, it was good at giving a scare but fell short in making it clear what the van's owner does.
"Could I trouble you to come over tomorrow morning? I think I can make another trip before I go to work," Shiller suggested.
"No problem at all."
They soon arrived at the destination, Killer Croc didn't enter the house. Shiller moved stuff inside and arranged everything himself, bidding farewell from inside the window.
Shiller promptly turned on his computer to finish the lesson plan he had started, which was completed quickly, then he opened the drawing software.
Raven appeared silently behind him, tilting her head curiously at the glowing computer screen.
Shiller noticed her presence, glanced back and saw Raven pointing at the pattern on the screen asking, "What's this?"
Shiller turned to look at his computer screen, on it was a circular pattern, in the middle was a half-drawn cartoon crocodile.
"This is a crocodile."
"I know it's a crocodile, what I mean is why are you up in the middle of the night not sleeping, drawing crocodiles?"
"Umm... probably as a way to repay a favor?"