Chapter 1171 Teacher and Student (Part 1) (Patreon)

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On a somewhat gloomy morning, the stone path was covered in muddy traces after the rain, with one pair of feet after another hurriedly rushing towards their destination.

From their leather shoes and pant legs, it was clear that those walking on the road were not students of Gotham University, but rather professors and faculty members.

The mornings in Gotham have the best air quality, and these professors, who have already passed the age of sleeping in, often choose to wake up early and head to the faculty dining hall for breakfast.

Although most of Gotham University's teaching facilities are rather old, for a dining hall, this is considered classic.

Adhering to a European style, the dining hall has a strong sense of nostalgia - thick carpets, intricate carved edges, silver tableware, and flickering candlelight, possessing a unique charm that no other U.S. university on the East Coast can match.

A pair of leather shoes stepped onto the threshold, but no server came to lay down the carpet, and the owner of the shoes didn't seem to mind at all, stepping on the blanket until the remaining rainwater was absorbed by the carpet, then striding in.

The bell on the reception counter was rung, and a plump black woman in an apron and a floral headscarf came out. Seeing the visitor, she enthusiastically greeted with a smile, "Oh, Bruce, you're here so early today. What would you like? Shall we skip the aperitif?"

Bruce lifted the hem of his suit jacket, put his hands in his pockets, and leaned against the counter, saying, "Yes, I have some business to take care of at the school this morning, so I came here to deal with breakfast. I'll have two bread rolls, no cooked dishes, just a salad will do."

The black woman rolled her eyes, staring at Bruce with her brown irises, and said, "Don't be silly, our handsome guy. Even with two bread rolls, that little salad won't fill anyone up! The food here may not be as good as what you eat at home, but it's not so bad that you can't stomach it, is it?"

"You misunderstood, ma'am." Bruce smiled at her, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight. He continued smiling as he said, "I had a late-night snack last night, so I can't eat much now. Could you please bring me a salad? Oh, and by the way..."

Bruce's hand was still gripping the edge of the counter, but he took a step forward, looking deeper into the dining hall, and after seeing a familiar figure, he turned back and asked, "I wanted to ask, what did that professor order today?"

"You mean Professor Rodriguez?" The black woman also leaned out to take a look, then said, "The usual - a small vegetable salad, roasted potatoes with fish, a cream soup that's a little hot, and a small glass of liqueur."

"Is there broccoli in the vegetable salad?" Bruce asked.

The black woman leaned her neck back and widened her eyes, looking at Bruce with an incredibly astonished gaze and said, "Good heavens! Don't let him hear you say that nonsense! How could there be broccoli in the vegetable salad?"

"I mean, did he specifically tell you not to put broccoli in it?"

"Does that even need to be said?" The black woman shook her head and said, "The whole world knows he doesn't eat broccoli. Even when we're serving the dishes, if there's broccoli on the plate, we have to walk around him. I don't want our poor refrigerator to get shot at again."

Bruce's expression brightened visibly, and he snapped his fingers at the black woman, saying, "I'll join his table, just send the food over there."

With that, Bruce walked over to Schiller, seeing that he was wearing the familiar black suit today. Without hesitation, Bruce pulled out a chair and sat down across from him.

Schiller didn't even look up, focused on using his knife to cut the roasted potatoes on his plate, arranging each piece of uniform size.

Seeing this, Bruce's expression relaxed even more. He leaned back slightly, letting the server place the plate in front of him. He nodded to the server, then looked at Schiller and said, "Good morning, Professor."

Bruce reached out to grab the knife and fork, but accidentally knocked over the vase next to him. Schiller first glanced at the vase, then shifted his gaze to Bruce's face.

"I really don't understand what you're so happy about," Schiller shook his head, rearranging the food on his plate as he spoke.

Bruce was just about to open his mouth when Schiller cut him off, speaking rapidly, "Yes, I heard, thank you for your concern. I'm very touched."

Bruce stared into Schiller's eyes, but saw no change in his emotions, so his words sounded rather sarcastic. Sure enough, Schiller continued, "...but you're all so stupid, especially you."

Bruce lowered his head without a word, starting to play with the vegetables on his plate. In fact, he had already realized that his silence was due to his guilty conscience.

"Bruce Wayne," Schiller leaned forward, calling his name, then said:

"Is there even the slightest bit of substantive evidence that could prove I've ever eaten a person before?"

"Batman, may I ask, when did you become so lacking in the requirement of substantial evidence?"

Bruce cut the large lettuce leaves on his plate into pieces with his knife and fork, shaking his head slightly before looking up at Schiller. Schiller let out a deep sigh and asked, "When do you think you started to fall into the trap?"

"At the Falcone Family banquet."

"Completely wrong." Schiller curled his lips, baring his teeth in a somewhat ferocious expression as he looked at Bruce and said, "What kind of informant would tell Gordon that someone was going to make a move at the Falcone Family banquet? When have the people of Gotham ever trusted the police so much???"

Bruce held his breath, continuously cutting the vegetables on his plate. Schiller tapped the plate with the tip of his knife and said, "If you're not hungry, just put the utensils down."

"It was you who tipped off Gordon, telling him someone would make a move at Falcone's banquet. You knew I would take this matter seriously and concentrate my attention on preventing a possible murder, so your own attention would be diverted," Bruce slowly put down his utensils, resting his hands on his body as he analyzed.

Schiller didn't continue speaking, but listened to him analyze.

"At the banquet, the moment you appeared, I realized that it wasn't you, but your other persona, and that it was more dangerous and crazy than you."

"What supported your judgment?"

"Your expression and demeanor. The direction of your facial muscles, eye contact, and attire," Bruce answered.

Schiller lowered his eyelids and sighed softly, "When have I ever brought a gift to a banquet? Or a cliché gift like red wine?"

Bruce pressed his lips together, turning his head to the side. Schiller took a bite of the fish and looked at him, saying, "Go on."

"The murder case still happened, but the killer used a television as a medium to convey his ideology, and then... and then..." Bruce's mouth was tightly pursed, the corners of his mouth turned down, looking very serious, but his tone was intermittent.

"When you said 'human flesh is not this taste', my first reaction was disbelief," Bruce emphasized.

"Why didn't you stick to your first reaction?" Schiller stared into his eyes and asked, but before Bruce could answer, Schiller said while spearing a piece of potato and putting it in his mouth, "Because you were subjected to layer upon layer of suggestion, because the seeds of fear took root and sprouted in your heart, with a gardener constantly watering it, making it grow stronger, and you completely lost your own judgment, like a lamb tied by the neck, following it to the slaughter."

Bruce pressed his forehead with his hand and said in a low voice, "Then came your discussion with Valentin, when you first expressed your own ideology, that people won't pour their emotions into things like pigs, as if you couldn't see those ordinary people."

"I acknowledge, this theory is quite shocking," Bruce said, supporting his head with one hand. "I also acknowledge that I was interested in it, it was a trap as simple as can be, but I walked right into it."

"Arousing your interest was just the first step," Schiller continued. "It's not even a trap, it's just bait, even the appetizer of the bait."

"Because of this theory, I became extremely interested in your personality," Bruce said, remaining in the same position. "I want to know why he is so abnormal, so cold, heartless and cruel."

"So I fell into the trap," Bruce picked up the fork again, starting to poke the lettuce on the plate quickly, looking very anxious. He swallowed and continued, "He told me he was 'pathological', and there was an obvious trap in that, which I didn't discover."

"He placed himself in a higher position, and from the very beginning, he used you, the one I'm most familiar with, as a reference, indicating that he is a higher existence than you, just like those telephone scammers who always like to say they have business dealings with the Wayne Group."

"Then you brought up the old topic again, leading the conversation back to the difference between humans and pigs, but this time, you went further, saying you don't like to eat pork, indicating that you have no interest in ordinary people, and this once again aroused my curiosity."

When Bruce got to this point, he could barely continue. He picked up the water glass next to him and took a few sips, paused for a long time, and then forced himself to say, "You didn't even say you wanted to kill the serial killer and eat them, but I imagined it all myself."

"And I also verified the answer I found in the details in my mind, and after finding that they all matched, I became even more convinced." Bruce pressed his forehead with his hand, closed his eyes and sighed, "It's the most clichéd brainwashing method, the classic Ponzi scheme."

"Then came the first physical confrontation," Schiller spoke up. "This is the part I understand the least. Why couldn't you beat him?!"

"He moved too fast, I couldn't react in time," Bruce shook his head, but Schiller looked into his eyes and said, "Because he led you into a mental space, making you think that all your conflicts were happening in the mind, he made your mind highly excited, leaving no room for alertness."

"The constant flow of thoughts squeezed out the warning part of your brain, making you lose your sense of vigilance, instinctively thinking that the surrounding environment was safe, but if you could have broken free of that mindset a little, you would have realized how dangerous the situation was at the time."

"The thoughts that filled you prevented your reason from telling you that you were in my office, facing a dangerous personality, and you had no idea whether he would attack or not."

"Because he said so many ambiguous things, leaving you with so many mysteries to guess, you couldn't break free from that mindset in a short time, so he was able to sneak attack successfully."

"Batman, look at the muscles you've built up from all that training, think about your accurate gunmanship, feel the batarangs on your waist. If I didn't use any special abilities and you weren't distracted, how could I possibly beat you?"

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 1172 Teachers and Students (Part 2)