Bab 1743: Chapter 1180: Teacher and Student (Part 1)_1
On a somewhat gloomy morning, the cobblestone street, freshly washed with rain, was covered in muddy tracks. One pair of feet after another stepped on it, hastily heading toward their destination.
From their shoes and trouser cuffs, it was clear that those on the street were not students of Gotham University, but teachers and school staff.
The air quality is the best in Gotham in the early morning. These professors, who are past the age of sleeping in, often choose to get up early and head to the faculty dining hall for meals.
Most of the teaching facilities at Gotham University might be somewhat outdated, but for a restaurant, this is considered classic.
Inheriting a European style, the restaurant exudes a vintage charm, with heavy carpets, intricately carved edges, silver tableware, and flickering candlelight, creating a unique ambiance found in none of the American universities on the East Coast.
A pair of shoes stepped on the threshold, but no waiter came over with a carpet. The shoe's owner didn't mind and stepped repeatedly on the carpet, which absorbed the remaining rainwater from under his feet, before he strode in.
The reception bell on the counter was rung. A plump black lady wearing an apron and a floral headscarf walked out. Upon recognizing the visitor, she greeted him warmly with a smile, "Oh, Bruce, you're here quite early. What can I get you today? No aperitif?"
Bruce flicked the hem of his suit jacket, put his hands in his trouser pockets, and leaned on the counter, "Yes, I have some business at the school this morning, so I came here for breakfast. I'll take two bread rolls for starters, no cooked vegetables, just a bit of salad will do."
The black lady rolled her eyes and, looking at Bruce with her brown pupils, said, "Oh, don't jest! Our handsome man, even with two bread rolls, that little bit of salad wouldn't fill up anyone! Although the food here can't be compared to what you'd have at home, it shouldn't be so unbearable, should it?"
"You've got it wrong, ma'am.", Bruce gave her a smile. Shimmering under the candlelight, he continued, "I ate late last night, so I can't eat much now. Please bring me a salad. Oh, yes..."
Bruce, with his hand still on the counter edge, took a couple of steps forward, glanced into the depths of the dining hall and, recognizing a familiar figure, turned back to the lady and asked, "What did that professor order today?"
"You mean Professor Rodriguez?" The black lady also took a peek and then said, "The usual. A small vegetable salad, baked potato with fish steak, a bit hotter cream soup, and a small glass of liqueur."
"Does the vegetable salad have broccoli in it?" Bruce asked.
The black lady threw her head back, eyes wide open, staring at Bruce with an incredibly surprised look, "Oh my heavens! Don't let him hear your absurdities! How can vegetable salad have broccoli?"
"I mean, did he emphasize to you whether the dish should have broccoli in it or not?"
"Does he need to emphasize it?" The black lady shook her head, "Everyone in the world knows he doesn't eat broccoli. Even when we serve dishes, if there's broccoli on the plate, we make a detour around him. I don't want our poor refrigerator to take another couple shots."
Bruce's expression visibly brightened. Snapping his fingers at the black lady, he said, "I'll share a table with him. You can just send the dishes there."
With that, Bruce walked towards Shiller. Seeing that Shiller was wearing his usual black suit today, Bruce unhesitatingly walked over and pulled out the chair across from him to sit down.
Without even raising his eyes, Shiller was using a knife to cut the baked potato on his plate, arranging each precisely cut piece in neat rows.
Upon witnessing this, Bruce's demeanor relaxed further. He gently leaned back, allowing the waiter to put the platter in front of him. Nodding at the waiter, Bruce then looked at Shiller and said, "Good morning, Professor."
As Bruce reached to grab the knife and fork next to him, he accidentally knocked over a nearby vase. Shiller first glanced at the vase and then shifted his gaze to Bruce.
"I really don't understand what you're so pleased about," Shiller shook his head, playing with the food on his plate.
Before Bruce could speak, Shiller cut him off, speaking rapidly, "Yes, I heard it, thank you for your concern. I'm truly touched."
Bruce stared into Shiller's eyes, but didn't see any change in emotion. Thus, his words rang mockingly. Sure enough, Shiller continued to speak, "…but your stupidity gives me a headache, especially you."
Bruce silently lowered his head, fiddling with the vegetables on his plate. In fact, he had realized it too. Due to his guilt, he remained silent.
"Bruce Wayne." Shiller leaned forward, calling his name, then said,
"Is there even the slightest bit of substantial evidence that could prove that I have ever been a cannibal?"
"Batman, tell me, since when did you start not caring about substantial evidence?"
Bruce used his knife and fork to mince the large lettuce leaves on his plate, then gently shook his head. Only then did he raise his eyes to look at Shiller. Shiller let out a deep sigh and asked, "When do you think you started falling into this trap?"
"At the Falcone Family party."
"Far from it." Shiller lifted his lip, revealing his teeth in a somewhat sinister grin towards Bruce, saying, "What kind of informant would pass a message to Gordon that someone intends to act at the Falcone Family's banquet? Since when did the Gothamites trust the police so much?"
Bruce held his breath, incessantly slashing at the food on his plate. Shiller tapped the plate with the tip of his knife saying: "If you aren't hungry, put down your utensils."
"It was you who sent the message to Gordon, hinting that someone was going to act at Falcone's banquet. You knew I would focus my attention on this significant matter to prevent a possible murder. Thus, your actions were overlooked." Bruce slowly put his utensils down and began to analyze with his hands folded over his body.
Shiller didn't continue to speak, instead, he listened to the analysis.
"At the banquet, the moment you appeared, I realized that it wasn't the usual you, but your alternate persona – far more dangerous and insane."
"What supported your judgment?"
"Your expression and demeanor," Bruce replied, "the direction of your facial muscles, your gaze, your dress and demeanor."
Shiller lowered his gaze, sighing softly, "When have I ever brought gifts to a party? Let alone such cliché gifts like red wine?"
Bruce puckered his lips, turned his head to the side while Shiller ate a piece of fish and looked at him saying, "Go on."
"The crime still happened but the perpetrator used the television as a medium to convey his ideology. Then, then…" Bruce's lips were tightly pressed, his mouth corners downwards, appearing extremely serious, but his tone was intermittent.
"When you said 'human flesh doesn't taste like this' my initial response was disbelief," Bruce emphasized.
"Then why didn't you firmly hold onto your initial reaction?" Shiller stared into his eyes and asked. But before Bruce could answer, Shiller picked up a piece of potato and put it into his mouth, saying:
"Because you were subject to one suggestion after another, because the seeds of fear took root and sprouted in your heart. A gardener was continually watering it, allowing it to grow vigourously, and you completely lost your judgement, like a lamb with a bounded neck, following the path towards the butcher."
Bruce pressed his forehead with his hand in a low tone, "Then came the discussion between you and Valentine, you stated your world view for the first time. Humans won't develop feelings for pigs, just as you ignore ordinary people."
"I admit, this theory is somewhat startling," Bruce said as he rested his head in one hand, "I also admit, I was interested in it. This was a simple trap, but I walked straight into it."
"Provoking your interest was only the first step," Shiller continued, "This cannot even be considered a trap; it's nothing more than bait, or rather an entree for the bait."
"Because of this theory, I became intrigued with your alternate persona." Bruce remained motionless and spoke, "I wanted to know, why is he so unusual, so indifferent, cruel, and ruthless."
"So, I walked into the trap." Bruce took up the fork again, starting to poke the lettuce on the dish. His movements were rapid, reflecting his anxiety. His Adam's apple moved, he continued speaking, "He told me his character is 'morbid', another trap was hiding in plain sight, one I didn't see."
"He puts himself on a higher pedestal, and right from the start, uses the familiar you as a reference, indicating that he exists beyond you, just like those scam callers who like to say they have business dealings with Wayne Enterprises."
"And then you brought up the past again, leading the topic back to the difference between humans and pigs. This time you went further, saying you dislike eating pork, indicating your lack of interest in ordinary people. This piqued my curiosity again."
When Bruce reached this point, he seemed unable to continue. He picked up the nearby cup of water, took a few sips, paused for a long while before reluctantly speaking, "You never said that you wanted to kill serial murderers and eat them, but I filled in the gaps myself."
"Moreover, I confirmed all the details I discovered in my head with this answer, and I became certain after finding them all matching," Bruce pressed his brow, sighed with his eyes shut, "It's nothing more than hackneyed brainwashing, tailor-made for Ponzi schemes."
"Then, the first violent conflict," Shiller started, "This is what baffles me the most, why couldn't you beat him?"
"He moved too fast, and I couldn't react in time," Bruce shook his head, but Shiller stared at his eyes and said, "Because you were drawn into the psychological space, believing that all your conflicts were happening mentally. He excited your mind to such an extent, leaving no room for vagueness."
"A mind flooded with thoughts suppressed the alarm part of your brain, causing you to lose your guard. Out of instinct, you thought your surroundings were safe. However, if you could free your mind a bit, you would realize how dangerous the situation was."
"Your mind was so filled with thought that your rationale couldn't tell you that you were face-to-face with a dangerous persona, in my office, completely unaware of whether he would take action."
"Because he used ambiguous words and left you with many riddles to solve, all of which stopped you from breaking free from the mind games in a short period. Thus, he succeeded in the sneak attack."
"Batman, look at your muscles developed from extensive training, think about your precision shooting, touch the Batman dart on your waist. How could I possibly beat you if you weren't distracted and didn't use your special abilities?"
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