There was a very famous movie, called "Rain Man," which depicts the daily life of people with such a condition. But, in fact, the film exaggerates things a bit. Very few people have this special ability, and many psychiatrists and psychologists will never encounter one in their lifetime.
Bruce also knew the term "born killer," a term related to psychology in criminology, and not a psychological disorder per se. It refers to individuals who naturally lack any sympathy for their own kind, fail to recognize social morality, and can derive mental pleasure from controlling and harming others.
Among countless harsh lessons, criminology experts announced, these individuals are the most troublesome criminals because they closely resemble people without a motive to kill.
They don't do it for fame, fortune, or even pleasure. Many times, they kill as casually as people decide to eat steak for dinner, without a special reason, just because they feel like it.
The impulse to kill arises in their brain as naturally as the thought of eating steak. When such thoughts occur, they are not restricted by any human moralities or triggered by sympathy.
Therefore, they often commit random murders, which present detectives the greatest challenge.
The victims may have no connection to them whatsoever, everything happened on a whim. After their arrest, they are nearly impossible to reform, drifting in the human world like the messengers of the God of Death, randomly selecting the lucky ones to end their lives.
Bruce was not certain if Shiller was one of them. However, he found that Shiller indeed lacked basic moral sense and sympathy when it came to hurting others. The extent of Shiller's nonchalance led Bruce to believe it might be a case of congenital mental illness, not a result of any past grievances.
After observing for such a long period, Bruce concluded, if antisocial behavior is caused by past grievances, the perpetrator tends to act out violently, expressing happiness, excitement, fear, and so on.
If antisocial behavior is innate, however, they remain calm while committing the act, as if they've done nothing at all. Even most professional interrogation equipment would struggle to discern whether they are lying.
Because in their hearts, they truly believe they haven't done anything wrong, like simply eating a piece of steak, they tend to find the entire process of interrogation, trial, and incarceration bewildering, not understanding why people are making such a fuss over them eating a piece of steak.
Having the opportunity to observe Shiller at closer quarters on equal footing, Bruce found himself drawing the short straw; Shiller might be a born killer, a highly intelligent antisocial, who could spontaneously decide to have steak for dinner.
Sitting across from him, Shiller asked, "Are you planning to rent my house? If you're not, please leave. I have important things to do."
Bruce opened his mouth, feeling that leaving wouldn't be a wise choice at this point. Who knows what Shiller might do when unobserved?
He realized he had shot himself in the foot. Initially, he wanted to blend into the life of an ordinary person and observe the ecosystem of the slums.
Now, he had indeed blended into the life of an ordinary person—an ordinary person who acquired a two-bedroom house on his first day in Gotham along with a cup of water delivered by the mob that ruled an entire section of Living Hell.
Bruce sighed and said, "Yes, I'll rent a room here, but I won't be able to pay the rent right away. I need to find work to have some cash flow..."
"Since you've been living here for so long, you should be able to introduce me to some jobs, right?" asked Shiller.
"There are many jobs here, but none will meet your requirements," Bruce replies, putting his hands on the table. "Near the dock, there are jobs for porters and warehousing. Nearby restaurants need dishwashers or cooks, and inside Living Hell, they need water suppliers and recorders. Outside, there are truck drivers..."
"Judging by your expression, your job hunting experience hasn't been that smooth over the past few days," Shiller said, looking at him, "What jobs have you tried and what has held you back?"
Bruce pursed his lips, not wanting to speak. Shiller commented, "You're even stingier than I thought, not willing to share your experiences with someone new here…"
Just as Bruce was about to say something, Shiller interrupted, "Let's do it this way, I'll try all the jobs you mentioned. Tomorrow, I'll go to the dock to see if they need anyone."
Bruce took another look at Shiller, then shook his head.
No matter how you look at it, Shiller does not appear to be physically strong. He is tall, at 187 cm, but overall, he is rather thin and lacks visible muscle definition because of his attire; he doesn't look fit for manual labor.
After living here for these few days, Bruce knew that the job recruiters at the dock have a very sharp eye. They can instantly tell if you have work experience, and their primary criterion is your hands.
If you have ever worked as a porter, it's impossible not to have traces on your hands, such as calluses from friction, scars from injuries, and marks from exposure to weather.
After the warehouse fire, Bruce also lost his job. He tried to get a job as a porter at the dock again, but initially, he was only hired because the recruiter needed a scapegoat to accompany Killer Croc.
Killer Croc couldn't work due to his injury, hence, Bruce was turned down outright when he went there to apply again.
He no longer appeared strong, his hands too well-kept, clear signs of an inexperienced greenhorn. Those seeking workers did not like this type of person who might damage goods, hence, Bruce has not found a new job up till now.
He heard that Shiller intended to try his luck at the docks tomorrow. He didn't hold much hope; neither of them likely qualified for what dockworkers were looking for.
The next day, Shiller and Bruce arrived near the docks, but instead of heading towards the hiring hut, Shiller went around the entire dock warehouse, pausing at each door. He then proceeded to the unloading area, observing the unloading process for about two hours.
Afterwards, he went over to where the employer was, but instead of declaring his intent to apply, he engaged in a pleasant conversation with the employer. So, the entire morning went by without any job-hunting progress, but he did familiarize himself with the layout of the dock warehouse area.
When lunchtime arrived, Bruce asked Shiller, "What exactly are you doing? Why aren't you looking for a job?"
Shiller shaded his eyes with his hand, though there wasn't any sunlight, and gazed at the sea, saying, "Shouldn't job hunting start with a reconnaissance... I mean, getting familiar with the surrounding area first?"
Bruce squinted his eyes. Ever since Shiller arrived, he was in constant alertness. In this highly tensed mental state, the laughter around his ears actually seemed lower.
By noon, Bruce was famished. He wanted to look for food, but Shiller showed no signs of leaving. Luckily, there were various food stalls near the dock. Bruce chose to sit at the one with the best view, eating while keeping an eye on Shiller's movements.
Seeing Shiller enter an alley, Bruce frowned, but soon discovered that there was a sign indicating it was a public restroom.
Earlier, Gotham had undergone a lot of infrastructure improvements. Public restrooms were built in most crowded places, providing convenience for those working around.
Realizing that Shiller went to use the restroom, Bruce could finally relax. He was indeed quite hungry, so in the next half an hour, he focused on eating his lunch.
Actually, his lack of nutrition had already affected his thinking speed. However, since Batman was already a super-genius whose thinking speed was several times that of an ordinary person, the slowdown was hardly noticeable.
Yet, this could indeed lead to some delay in decision making. After he finished eating, Shiller came over and said, "I've got a job as a record keeper in the warehouse."
Bruce's fork-holding hand froze. He asked, "How did you get it?"
"Oh, when I went to the restroom just now, I happened to run into the worker who I chatted with earlier. He told me that the record keeper of the urgent warehouse had just broken his leg. But there's an outgoing shipment this afternoon. This isn't a job anyone can do, only someone good with numbers, like me, could handle it."
Bruce slowly put down his fork and looked into Shiller's eyes. "A worker just happened to break his leg, it just happened to be the record keeper of that particular urgent warehouse. Plus, there just happened to be a shipment due this afternoon, and you just happened to run into the hiring person in the restroom..."
"Opportunities are only given to those who are prepared," Shiller shrugged and said, "Although we are not in the relationship of teacher and student now, I still need to remind you. Before doing anything, you have to be well-prepared. You see, this morning wasn't wasted..."
Looking at Shiller, Bruce questioned, "Where did you get the record keeper?"
"He fell off from the second floor of the warehouse and broke his leg. He is probably in the hospital now," Shiller casually wiped his hands with a napkin and said unmoved.
Seeing Bruce's darkening face, he said, "Happiness in life needs to be created by oneself and so does opportunity... Oh, didn't you just mention that you're out of work, too? Want me to help you get an opportunity? For just ten U.S. dollars…"
"No need," Bruce interrupted immediately. If he allowed Shiller to continue 'creating', Gotham's hospital would soon reach its capacity.
"Really? I heard from the recruitment officer just now. The shipment this afternoon is extremely urgent. We need at least a dozen people, but half of them are yet to be hired. He asked me to help him find some more people at the dock…"
Bruce stopped, his hand still holding the fork, and asked, "Are you sure this position doesn't need to be 'created'?"
"Of course, why would I deceive you? You can go now and ask in their recruitment hut. I've also heard that wages are negotiable…"
Watching Bruce leave, Shiller turned his head to the food stall owner and said, "Get me another ten-dollar meal, put it on his tab."