"That's the situation." Brand, sitting on the sofa, stroked the soft ears of the white dog next to him, saying, "This dog is as intelligent as a human, it just can't talk."
"In the field of mental illness, I'm more proficient in pathology, and in magic, I'm not good at mediumship or soul magic. I can't communicate with Little Krypton, and it seems to need someone to listen to its problems right now."
"When Hal gave it to me, he emphasized that it is a heroic dog. In Metropolis, it once saved two drowning children, helped police subdue a suspect, and also stopped two robberies and a domestic violence case. So, you really need to help it, Schiller."
"I'm not questioning how good this dog is, I know it's Clark's dog, its abilities and character are almost exactly like Clark's. But the point is, I'm a human psychologist, I've never studied pet psychology. You should probably find a professional dog trainer, they're likely to be more reliable than me."
"But a dog trainer can't communicate directly with Little Krypton." Brand shook his head, saying, "Only you can use your Tower of Thought or Mad Liquor to enter dreams, talk directly with this dog, and provide it with psychological counseling."
"Ah, I see what you mean," said Schiller, leaning back against the back of the sofa. "But honestly, human and dog thoughts may not be able to connect. I'm also not sure if methods of human psychological therapy can help a dog. But I can try my best."
But Schiller turned his head and looked at Jason and Harley interacting on either side of the sofa: "You have to take these two back, I don't have time to babysit."
"Oh come on, you have plenty of free time." Brand reached for a drink and leaned back on the armrest, saying, "Or I'll stay here and babysit while you get back to work at Arkham Asylum, Mrs. Miller is driving me crazy."
Just as Schiller was about to speak, Brand sat up straight, resting his elbows on his knees, and leaning forward to look at Schiller, saying, "You always say you don't want to dwell on Batman, but you never take action. Now you have a chance, you're in a new environment, and you can have a new life. Why not try to make a change?"
Schiller looked at him somewhat in silence, and Brand shook his head, saying, "Don't instinctively succumb to the repetitive compulsive behaviors that solitude brings. You have to take that brave step, right?"
Schiller let out a soft sigh, and in the end, Brand left alone, leaving the dog and two children behind. So when Lucifer came back, he saw a messy house.
Schiller was bending down to pick up the feathered pillow on the floor, Harley was lying on one end of the sofa, stretching out a hand to try to reach Jason sitting on the floor while Jason was grimacing, trying to push Little Krypton, the super dog, away.
Unsurprisingly, after Brand left, Schiller tried to mediate between the two children. The educational theme was clichéd talk about not fighting, that resorting to violence was bad, but it was clear that these two children were not easily fooled.
Jason firmly believed that Harley was tarnishing Schiller's reputation and Harley also firmly believed that Jason was denying Schiller's talent. They were so steadfast in their beliefs that even if Schiller himself stood in front of them, they were determined to use all sorts of means to fight it out and make the other person admit defeat.
When the two of them were about to throw fists at each other, Schiller instinctively wanted to use his own force to intervene, but Little Krypton was quicker.
Perhaps this Krypton dog has some shepherd's genes, it really couldn't stand to see two beings confront each other with fists.
So, the moment the two children started fighting, Little Krypton rushed up, first knocking Harley onto the sofa, then quickly tail-whipping and pinning down Jason.
Harley, not to be outdone, grabbed a pillow and threw it at Jason's head. Little Krypton jumped high and bit the pillow, shaking it back. The burst pillow flew out feathers all over the sky, obscuring Harley's vision. Jason took advantage of Little Krypton's distraction and grabbed its neck.
A Krypton dog is no ordinary pet dog. Little Krypton tossed its head to the right, causing Jason to stumble and fall onto the floor, landing on his bottom.
Lucifer had just walked into the living room when he heard Little Krypton's deep and powerful bark. He looked a bit puzzled at the scene in the living room, then turned his gaze to Schiller.
Sighing deeply, Schiller took off two pillow feathers that had landed on his head. He looked at Lucifer and said, "How's your pub renovation? Isn't it supposed to open in a few days?"
"The renovation is no problem, mainly I have to put my collectibles up, that's almost done. It'll probably be able to open tomorrow or the day after." Lucifer walked over and picked up the pillow that had been thrown into the corner and tossed it on the sofa.
"You'd better open tomorrow, then take these two ... oh, no, the three of them, to your pub. I have to go to the Federal Bureau of Investigation Training School to work tomorrow."
"The three of them?" Following Schiller's gaze, Lucifer finally sees the two children and the dog fighting. He blinked and said, "Harley Quinn? How come you ... oh, I forgot, you should still be Miss Quinzel, and Jason Todd, you're a little kid now, haha."
Lucifer chuckled twice, dismissively waving his hand, "Don't worry, I'll make sure they complete their homework. This is Superman's dog, right? Come here, good dog, want to play frisbee?"
"Clean up the living room." Schiller said as he walked towards his room. Behind him, Lucifer said, "Hey, you're not going to leave all the housework to me, are you? As my Pope, shouldn't you..."
"Pay the rent."
".....Where's the broom?"
"In the bathroom."
Returning to his bedroom, Schiller pulled open the curtains, revealing the bustling night scene of the city center of Seashore City. This is a luxury apartment not far from the Seashore City CBD.
Though Greed had bought a holiday villa not far from Jordan's fishery, Arrogance did not have such leisure. It would take him three hours to drive back to civilization every day, so he rented an apartment on the upper floors here and paid a year's rent.
As for Lucifer, the bar that Greed had paid for was not far from this apartment. It was a renovation of Seashore City's old natural history museum from the last century. Although there were rooms available for living, it was not comfortable due to the decor, and it was overly damp. So, Lucifer chose to share the rent with Schiller.
Lucifer wasn't too poor to afford the rent; he just didn't want to discuss money with Arrogance anymore. He had discovered that Arrogant Schiller was very averse to accounting, and he was afraid that Arrogance would call in the professionals again and add to the trouble between Heaven and Hell, which had just stabilized.
In this way, the two began a period of cohabitation. To some extent, the two, as representatives of Arrogance, had somewhat similar characters. Their living habits were compatible, the apartment was large with three big rooms and a smaller room - ample space and no interference in activities. It should've been very peaceful.
However, in every country or style of life, the presence of children and pets meant the end of peace.
The next morning, Schiller got up early. He dressed in a suit and tie, picked up his briefcase like an ordinary office worker, and walked downstairs, where the Federal Bureau of Investigation's agents were waiting in the car.
"Ms. Amanda Waller sends her regards, Professor Schiller," said the female agent driving the car.
"Is she still in Denver?" Schiller adjusted his tie and took out a teaching plan from his briefcase. As he read it, he said, "Yes, Ms. Amanda Waller still has unfinished business. After she finishes there, she will visit you.", said the male agent in the passenger seat.
"She should focus on her work. I don't need anyone to visit me." Schiller browsed through his notes and, after flipping a page, said, "You must be in quite some trouble, weren't you?"
The female agent driving wore a solemn expression. "A month ago, a severe explosion occurred on the second basement floor of the Metropolitan World Trade Center. The then Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, William Sessions, was dismissed by the president for neglect of duty and embezzlement. Louis Fry, the then United States Secretary of Justice, took office. This isn't a good news."
Schiller flipped another page in his teaching plans and said, "Surely, even though Sessions' performance was poor, he was an independent individual with authority and could steer the FBI in any direction. But what about Louis? Having climbed up from the American judicial system, could we expect him to have any sense of independence?"
"Ms. Waller and Mr. Davis, along with other veterans of the FBI, do not want to be manipulated by Fry..."
"So, they won't easily let me go." Schiller said without looking up, "We all know that this is a transaction. You help me restore my social reputation, and I help you gain the upper hand in the internal power struggle of the FBI."
"Fry hails from New Jersey - the East Coast, his turf. Hence, you ingeniously established the West Coast College outside of the FBI National Academy to share the duty of training agents."
"Yes, professor, that's what we thought.", the male agent in the passenger seat intervened. "We also understand that inviting you to teach is like letting a wolf into the sheepfold. But even if you were KGB, you would be sure to carry out the former director's will better than Louis Fry."
"The biggest achievement of Sessions during his time in office was the anti-drug movement, where he raised the slogan 'winners don't do drugs'. It was widely accepted among adolescents and certainly curbed drug crimes to an extent." Schiller sighed lightly and continued.
"The newly appointed Fry is a liberalist and a follower of McCarthyism. Hence, you certainly want to pit a KGB agent against him on stage. Only if I attract all his attention, you'd get a breather and regain a steady foothold amidst the backlash of the explosion case without being held accountable."
The male agent lightly tapped on the edge of the window. "You have a remarkable political mind, professor. You've made it utterly clear with your observations. But since you've seen it so clearly, you'd understand that the battle has only just begun."
"I'm not fighting anyone."
As he saw the car stop outside a lush forest, Schiller closed his teaching plans, opened the car door and stepped out. He looked back at the agents exiting the car with him and said:
"I'm a teacher that only shares knowledge from books. I don't care whether the new director respects me or not, but he better learn to respect knowledge."
"I understand, Professor. This way, please."