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They slowly made their way up the winding mountain road, until the Primary Universe Batman, who had already taken over Wayne Manor, could bear it no longer and sent a car to pick them all up.
Seeing Alfred, even a Lego version, Tim couldn't help but show his affection. He followed the old butler into the kitchen, planning to see if the oven was big enough to fit some sweet cookies in addition to the main course of bread.
Unfortunately, no matter which universe's Alfred, he held absolute control over snacks and sweets. Tim walked back, looking disappointed, clearly not having achieved his goal of exchanging extra sweet treats for acting spoiled.
The remaining three studied intelligence in the living room. Primary Universe Batman took over everything in Wayne Manor very smoothly. Alfred was indifferent to this. Primary Universe Batman believed this was the most pressing issue to address, so he turned to Shiller.
He pondered before asking, "I lied. If there's one person in this world who can definitely spot that I'm an impostor, it wouldn't be Joker; it would be Alfred. He knows me best."
"But he didn't make it difficult for you," Shiller said. "He even condoned it, perhaps even helped you to some extent."
"Yes, because in my life I would never guess that the password for the main control system of the Wayne Manor computer would be 'I need more sweet cookies.'
Shiller started to laugh, then said, "You should have sent a car earlier, then you could have heard the conversation between Tim and me through the surveillance system."
Primary Universe Batman frowned. No matter which Shiller it was, he always had a knack for pinpointing what made him uncomfortable. Missing out on important intelligence he hadn't heard was like a fishbone stuck in his throat.
But he still handled the situation well, letting out a light "Oh" and saying, "I regret missing out on your insights, Doctor, but now we have plenty of time, if you could pick out the essentials to discuss..."
"I would be happy to oblige, but I fear cherry-picking might not be feasible, for this is a very complete logic."
"I won't pay by the hour."
"Then we'll keep it short and sweet."
Deadpool coughed as he choked on soda. Once he recovered, he rolled his eyes and looked at Shiller, saying, "Spider Man sure wasn't wrong with his astonishing comment about you."
"Alright, no joking," Shiller sat down in a chair, nodded to Alfred, who brought him tea, and then said, "Batman doesn't want to be Batman, even though he acts like he really wants to, like he couldn't live without the job, but actually, he doesn't want it."
This logic seemed contradictory at first, similar to the idea that the more water there is, the less water there is. Primary Universe Batman understood that in psychology, such situations are common. It's essentially because the human race can't fully comprehend their own feelings. Even thoughts in the moment might not truly reflect their intentions, leading to actions often regretted later.
"Let's suppose that a person's destiny is to follow a laid track that cannot be altered, whether it crosses oceans or grasslands, the track always leads forward,"
"The person sitting in the car cannot decide where the track goes, so he just follows the car as it moves along the set track, convincing himself that the view outside the window isn't so bad."
"So what if one day the windows shut? Do you think he could accept that? Of course, he couldn't. Sitting in the car unable to steer, with nothing to do but peer at the scenery, that view becomes his only solace."
"So if the windows shut, he would feel fear, sorrow, even the desire to waste time and give up on himself."
"But because he has always sustained his life by looking at the scenery, when he no longer has that view, he thinks all his discomfort is because the windows shut, never realizing the essence of his discomfort is that he's stuck in the car and the track can't be changed."
Before Batman could open his mouth to say something, Shiller, as if anticipating his words, interrupted and said, "He's different from you. The track that leads to Lion Mountain Blood Sea was laid by you. For you, riding the car is about facing challenges and climbing to new heights."
"The hellish view outside might cause you pain, but you have arms and could choose to close the window and look away. Yet you do nothing, and this is your choice, great hero."
Batman found himself speechless. He felt he should have opted to pay by the hour, so perhaps the other might have included some mitigating terms, rather than sound so mocking.
"In a world without death and injury, there shouldn't be a set track," Shiller said. "Nor should there be a person cultivated to just sit in the car and watch the scenery. Unfortunately, due to some irresistible forces..."
Just as Deadpool was about to say something grandiose about this, Shiller stuffed his mouth with bread and gave him a warning look. Deadpool glanced at the slightly puzzled Primary Universe Batman next to him, finally took a bite of the bread, and stayed silent.
"In such circumstances we arrived, kicking him off the car. This might cause him brief pain since he can't move forward and finds himself in a wasteland without a track, a car, or windows. This makes him feel out of place."
"But it's not that he dislikes this wilderness; he has never experienced the beauty of being in it. But soon he will find that this is what he deserves, what truly suits him."
"You're not him, how can you be so sure?" Primary Universe Batman questioned.
"Ah, I know what you're going to say—'How can one know a fish's joy if one is not a fish?' But let's be clear, I'm not a philosopher; I'm a psychologist."
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"From my professional expertise, a person who sits in a car all day looking at the scenery outside and doing nothing is much more likely to have psychological issues than someone who gets off and runs around—that's not my job to empathize with, my job is only to heal illnesses."
"I know you're going to ask how I came to the conclusion that the latter is better than the former, or maybe someone just likes sitting in the car? I can only tell you this: human society has evolved to this point following traceable psychological rules. Most people are like this because humans are indeed suited to this; otherwise, human civilization wouldn't have survived up to now."
"If you're part of that small portion of the population who can't adapt, then it's not my responsibility to help you find your true self but to teach you how to pretend to be in the majority. That's how the job of a psychological doctor operates."
Batman truly had no retort. He noticed the difference between this Shiller and Dr. Shiller. He wasn't interested in exploring the truth of the human psyche but only pursued practicality, aiming to quickly restore people to normal so that he could take his fees with a clear conscience."
But that didn't mean Batman couldn't get back at him. He said, "Next, I'm going to introduce you to something that you'll definitely enjoy."
Shiller leaned in, only to find Batman pulling out a box from under the table. Upon opening it, inside were green bills—all made from Lego.
Shiller inhaled sharply, then let out a sigh, "If we're talking scale, this thing isn't even as long as a joint. No universe would recognize this kind of money."
"But you…" Shiller clearly had his sights set on Primary Universe Batman's wealth.
"You're not doing psychological treatment for me." Primary Universe Batman snapped the box shut and then said, "Take it or leave it."
In the end, Shiller walked away with the box. Lego money was still quite precious; even if he couldn't spend it, he could collect it.
Then Shiller came to his own conclusion. He said, "Alfred also wants Batman to take a look at the world outside the car, not just to follow the set track and fight against unnecessary crime, so that's why he didn't stop you."
"Does being kidnapped by Joker count as part of the world outside the car window?"
"I think you have too many stereotypes about Joker." Shiller said discontentedly, "The Joker in this universe is so innocent. And you, a demon skilled in mental manipulation, shamelessly deceived Joker into such behavior and still have the audacity to say he kidnaps others?"
"Forget it." Batman was very good at making deflecting words sound like commands.
And the command worked. When he said forget it, it was understood, and no one could argue. Shiller was a doctor and had to follow his patient's wishes, Tim was a junior and didn't dare provoke this Batman, and Deadpool had realized that Batman had set his sights on him, so it was best to say less, to avoid a gruesome end.
This is the main reason Batman always wins in the Justice League: when he raises a topic, people think he must have something important to say; when he drops a topic, people think there must be more to it that he doesn't wish to discuss.
That's the advantage of being reticent, Batman thought to himself. If he really talked as much as the Batman in this universe, even more than Joker, that blind eye technique wouldn't work as well.
When Alfred served tea that afternoon, they finally got back to the main topic—discussing whether Tim could eat a third mini sweet biscuit or not.
Batman took the contrary position, he said, "I hope you understand that my asking you to restrain yourself isn't about punishing you but that if you maintain such a habit in real life, you'll scream in pain one night, waking everyone in the manor and, while we don our full gear to confront the invader, you'll be lying in bed clutching your face, complaining of a toothache."
"Oh my god, I hope I never did that in that universe," Tim's interest was piqued. He said, "It's hard to imagine how hellishly awkward that scene would be."
Then he sneakily glanced at this Batman's expression, thinking that if his life was so colorful, perhaps he wasn't as cold and cruel a judge as he had imagined. At least, he wouldn't kill Tim over a toothache, right?
Of course, Shiller saw right through what Tim was thinking, scoffing internally—this Batman's life was much more colorful than you could imagine—thanks to you guys from another universe.
"I think you can have another piece," Deadpool took the affirmative side. He said, "I'm sure you realize that this is Lego World, so having another won't matter, but in the real world, you'll get a toothache, because even a three-year-old could figure that out."
"So, the way I see it, you can gorge yourself on sweets here until you puke, satisfying that long-suppressed craving of yours. Maybe then you won't feel like eating sweets so much once you're outside."
Tim's eyes lit up, he high-fived Deadpool and made a gesture, saying, "I knew you were an expert in psychology too!"
Now the vote was evenly split, and everyone turned to look at Shiller. Shiller glanced at the Lego-made cookies before him, remembering the scene where Alfred poured a lethal dose of sugar into the mix with a jar as big as a head and couldn't help but show a look of disgust.
"Ugh!" Tim stuffed a cookie in his mouth, chewed, and said, "Since you don't want it, I'll eat it!"
And Batman simply shook his head, passing his untouched coffee to him. Just then, Tim choked, snatched up the cup, and downed the entire coffee, letting out a sigh of relief.
Then, he made a move that shocked everyone—he flung himself into Batman's arms, giving him a hug, "Thanks! Love you the most, dad!"
With a whoosh, Batman appeared five meters away, tightly wrapped in his long cloak, with an expression that might be described as "the world must be insane."