Chapter 1127 Schiller is not working today (middle)

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Schiller's hand resting on the sofa armrest flipped over, and he hesitated for a moment, looking at Victor, and gently asked, "Is your postgraduate students' first class just writing a thesis?"

"Oh, of course not," Victor answered lightly. "When I first met them, I just wanted them to get familiar with the campus environment, then take them on a tour of the laboratory, and tell them some precautions, you know, that's what the first class should be about."

"But my students said they had already memorized all these things thoroughly, and they just wanted to start the research directly." Victor shook his head helplessly, "Working with a group of geniuses is like this, being the teacher of a group of geniuses, the pressure is even greater."

"Before we formally started the research, I assigned them a simulation project to see their level, and that's how we had our previous first meeting."

"Captain Cold performed very well, within my expectations, I had a certain estimate of his level. Pamela's performance also surprised me a bit, after all, she switched majors to come here, but her results are also good."

"The most shocking one is Bruce, he also switched majors, but he did better than anyone else. He not only completed the project well, but also innovated. His thesis, although only a simulation project and virtual experiment, the data and reasoning are very rigorous."

Schiller narrowed his eyes and looked at Victor, "Are you sure you're talking about Bruce Wayne??"

Victor looked at Schiller with some puzzlement and said, "Honestly, every time you worry about Bruce's thesis in the office, it makes me lower my expectations for him, but I didn't expect him to give me such a pleasant surprise!"

Victor concluded, "It's possible that your requirements are too high."

Schiller looked at Victor with disbelief and said, "If you've ever seen his psychology thesis, you'd know how absurd what you just said is..."

"Maybe he just chose the wrong major," Victor shrugged. "When I was in college, I almost wanted to apply for medical school, but when I was memorizing books, I felt very painful, so I firmly chose the path of cryogenics."

"Maybe Bruce is the same way," Victor nodded. "I can understand him, if a person doesn't like a subject, writing a thesis is indeed a painful thing."

Schiller tilted his head slightly and asked, "What about the formatting? The punctuation symbols?"

"No problem at all," Victor replied. "Even if I use the most demanding eye to judge his formatting, I can't find any flaws. He is the most rigorous in wording among all the first-year students I've taught."

"I think you need to have a psychological examination," Schiller looked at Victor seriously. "I suspect you are experiencing some kind of delusion."

"Don't be like this, Schiller," Victor looked into Schiller's eyes and said, "As teachers, we should recognize the progress of students and feel happy about it, and give them encouragement."

"The most worth discussing issue is whether he has really progressed, or just know how to flatter the teacher," Schiller said with a slight curl of the lips.

"No, the most worth discussing issue should be whether the behavior pattern of students will change due to the attitude of the teacher," Victor picked up another finger biscuit and said, "If students know that they can never get positive feedback from a certain teacher, perhaps they will also lack the motivation to strive forward."

Schiller sighed and said, "So it's my problem?"

"No, I think being strict is a good thing, but I know I'm not a serious enough person," Victor poured himself a glass of wine, dipped the finger biscuits into it, took a bite, and said, "Each teacher has their own unique teaching style, and each student has their own preferred learning style."

"Letting teachers adapt to students is a lack of discipline, but requiring students to adapt to teachers doesn't achieve teaching according to their aptitude." Victor took a sip of wine and said, "That's why educating people is the most difficult thing in this world."

After Victor left, Schiller sat there deeply frowning.

After a while, he slapped the armrest of the chair and said, "Okay, at least this means the treatment is effective, and I can temporarily get rid of this trouble."

Schiller stood up from the chair, just about to walk back to the desk, when Mrs. Miller burst in again, holding a small note and looking at Schiller, "Professor! You wrote the prescription delimiter wrong again! Shall I paste it on the wall in the lobby downstairs?"

"No need!" Schiller stood there and rubbed his brow, Mrs. Miller gave a fake smile and said, "But I have to commend you, this time the drug names are all written correctly, I'll still paste it up, this is a rare progress."

"Don't say that, Mrs. Miller, I've just returned to my doctor's work, I need an adaptation process," Schiller shrugged slightly and said, "I don't have many classes recently, so I can adapt well."

Mrs. Miller snorted and left, Schiller walked back to the chair behind the desk, unbuttoned his suit, leaned back and looked at the ceiling, suddenly, as if remembering something, he got up and went to the phone, starting to dial.

"Hello, can you check if there's a patient named Jonathan Crane admitted recently?"

"Oh, really? Okay, what room is he in?... Alright, I got it, tell Brand he doesn't need to do the rounds, I'll go there myself."

After hanging up the phone, Schiller went to the glass partition wall, tidied up his clothes, and when he arrived at the room where Scarecrow Jonathan was, Jonathan was holding his coat with disgust, brushing off the dust on it.

"Sorry, the hospital is still undergoing renovations, so there's more dust," Schiller pushed open the door and said, "You can ask the nurse to sprinkle some water."

Jonathan stood there, looking Schiller up and down, then said, "I guess... you must have just defeated Batman again, and came here to find some sense of existence, right? Don't you have anything else to do?"

"I'm the doctor, I'm here for rounds, judging from your wording, your condition hasn't improved at all, do you need an increase in medication?" Schiller raised an eyebrow coldly.

But Jonathan completely ignored him and said, "Don't play the doctor-patient act, we both know we're the same kind of person. Do you really think taking medication can cure your illness? If it can't cure you, it can't cure me either."

Jonathan shook his coat vigorously again and said, "We are all cold-blooded born psychopaths, oh, I misspoke, you are the coldest-blooded among us... You should be grateful that Batman doesn't read the newspaper."

Schiller didn't mind his cold attitude at all, smiled and sat down in the chair by the window, crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knees, then said, "How do you know he doesn't read the newspaper?"

"He does read the newspaper, but he can't understand it," Jonathan carefully folded his coat on the hospital bed, his tone cold.

"We used to both teach at Gotham University, and we've both seen Batman. I chose to leave, while you chose to stay, not because your abilities are superior to mine, but because you're crazier than me."

"Your level of craziness is on par with Batman's," Jonathan put the neatly folded clothes in the closet, sat on the edge of the bed with his back to Schiller, and began to tidy up the shoe cabinet, continuing, "Now it seems you have defeated Batman again, congratulations, you have successfully become the craziest madman in all of Gotham, or even the world."

The content of what Jonathan said sounded like praise, but the tone was full of heavy sarcasm, yet Schiller leaned forward, resting one hand on the table, and said close to Jonathan, "Are you also angry that you can't understand the newspaper?"

Jonathan stood up, spreading his arms towards Schiller, his facial muscles twitching constantly, "You madmen! You abandoned me! And you still ask me if I feel angry?!"

Schiller gave him a smile and said, "We didn't abandon you, doctors never abandon their patients, but if your academic achievements haven't been published, you can't expect the academic world to know about you through telepathy, can you?"

"But that's not fair at all!" Jonathan shouted, "Why is it only Gotham that has a Batman? This makes all the serial killers here have a harder time achieving results than others!"

"But Batman didn't stop you from leaving," Schiller still smiled at Jonathan and said, "I can give you a discharge certificate now, you can go to Metropolis or Star City, no one will stop you."

His gaze then gradually turned cold as he looked at Jonathan, "You're just like a bad student who blames the difficult questions."

Jonathan grunted but didn't answer further, just sat on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees, sulking.

But Schiller walked over, patted him on the shoulder and said, "Don't be angry, why don't you try learning from Jack and start your own club?"

"He's even crazier than the edge!" Jonathan shook his head and said, "I'll go be a law-abiding good citizen tomorrow! So you'll lose one of your own kind forever!... No, I'll go now!"

As Jonathan spoke, he kept shaking his head in one direction, seeming to completely lose control of this movement.

His symptoms were similar but different from Schiller's, but there was no doubt that he was telling the truth - they were both born mentally ill and incurable.

"Okay, don't make a fuss," Schiller lifted the hem of his suit, put his hands in his pant pockets, and said, "You just want to know the new code, don't you? I can tell you in secret, but you mustn't tell anyone else, otherwise we'll both be kicked out of academia."

Jonathan slowly widened his eyes, rolling them to the side to look at Schiller, but not really wanting to look at him. Schiller maintained his hands-in-pockets posture, leaned down and whispered something in Jonathan's ear.

Jonathan immediately showed a delighted expression, even his eyes gradually lit up. He looked up at Schiller, and Schiller raised a finger to his lips, gesturing for him to be quiet.

As Schiller walked into the stairwell, he heard Jonathan open the door and shout to the nurse on duty, "Help me order a newspaper! Deliver it first thing in the morning at the fastest speed! I can give you double the tip, oh no, triple, make those brats hurry up!"

Schiller's footsteps paused for a moment, and in the darkness, he called out loudly, "Say 'hello' and 'please'!"

"...Okay, hello! Please help me order the newspaper!"

In the darkness, Schiller's glasses flashed a gleam of light, then he slowly revealed a faint smile, and continued to quickly descend the stairs and leave.

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

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 1128: Schiller Not Working Today (Part 2)