The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman.

Chapter 186 Arkham Daily Life
When Jack was lying on the bed of Arkham Psychiatric Hospital again, Schiller gloated and said: "Now you know where your forever home is? For the sake of your paying a lot, I can give you more Get some painkillers."

"Do you think I'm a drug addict?" Jack yelled violently, "Don't compare me to the kind of people who take drugs and break their brains!"

"Look at it, at least you have a permanent bed here. You should have seen how much those gang bosses who can't get in outside want such a bed."

Mentioning the words gang boss, Jack showed a disgusted expression, and he muttered in a low voice: "You are like that bat, he doesn't want to laugh, you don't want to be crazy, you are all lying to yourself..."

He stared at the ceiling and kept rambling: "Why are you so serious? Why don't you admit it? Why aren't you proud of your chaos and disorder?"

Suddenly, he calmed down again, and even said with a bit of philosophy: "In this mediocre world, having a unique crazy soul should be something to be proud of."

"But you always trap such a wonderful soul in a mediocre and disgusting body."

"Living seriously and seriously every day, pretending to be no different from those walking dead, it really makes me sick..."

"Madness is not the only way to know the world." Schiller also sat down, and his tone was very calm. He said, "I have always believed in this."

"If you can't become a sharp knife and use madness to pierce the world's disguise, then you will be domesticated by those false orders."

Jack uttered some difficult words as if he was dreaming, and each word would pause in his mouth, as if he didn't know them, but each sentence was so complete and fluent.

"There is disorder when there is order. If there is no order, chaos will no longer be chaos. Chaos will become order. When you destroy order, you are creating another order."

"Many people think that the ultimate answer to this world is chaos, but when they have this idea, it means that they have been domesticated by order, and this world does not have any ultimate answer."

"That's why you and that bat would rather do nothing?" Jack looked at Schiller.

"I'm still a little different from him." Schiller poured himself a glass of water and said, "Batman is a warrior who maintains order in chaos, but I'm not. I'm just an ordinary person."

"Ordinary people..." Jack scoffed at his statement.

"And you, who regard yourself as a savior, want to tell everyone that only madness can know all the truth, and especially want to tell Batman that the answers he wants are close at hand, so simple that he just needs to smile."

"But it's not that he doesn't understand this, it's just that he doesn't want to do it."

"That's why I think he is mentally ill." Jack's tone suddenly revealed a hint of jealousy, "He has what I don't have, the most rooted darkness and madness I dream of, but he just doesn't want to do that, he obviously can Be a great god to tear apart this banal lie, but he just won't smile."

"It's a question that lingers in my head every day, and it drives me crazy and insane."

"Why on earth are they so serious?"

Schiller shrugged and said: "Everyone is lying to themselves, only you are telling the truth, everyone is pretending to be serious, only you are laughing, so you are the only clown."

Staring at the ceiling, Jack said, "When the laughter is about to spill out of their mouths, their first reaction is fear, resistance, reflection, which is crazy."

"Being a clown must be very happy, because there is nothing in this world that you can't laugh at. You want them to know how happy you are, but unfortunately no one will accept your favor."

"I've always thought that people who dress up as bats are mentally ill." Jack looked at Schiller and said, "...so do people who dress up as ordinary people."

The night of Gotham outside the window slowly fell, and the lights of the city jumped up. After the weather warmed up, the whole city began to glow with new vitality, still a little crazy and evil, still chaotic, and still bustling.

In the morning, Schiller was in his office, and he was holding a paintbrush. Brand beside him took off the paint-stained gloves with some distaste. Schiller said to him: "I'm sure, this dilapidated room The hospital needs a complete overhaul."

Pointing to the corner of the wall, he said, "If it wasn't for that lunatic's graffiti that damaged my wall, I wouldn't have noticed it. The cracks in the bricks there might have collapsed one day."

Brand sighed and said, "What you said makes sense, but it requires a long-term plan. We can't tell those patients that we're going to start renovating the hospital tomorrow, so let them go away?"

He looked up at the corner of the roof and said, "In short, until now, we can only do it ourselves."

"You just can't bear the revenue these days." Schiller said with a smile: "If there is no commission for two months of renovation, it will be a big loss, right?"

Brand touched his nose, cursed secretly, and said, "It's all about the damn gang industry chain that you set up. In my life, I didn't know that money is so easy to make. If I stop working for two months, how much money will I have to lose?"

"Okay, then we'll do it ourselves, but the cracks in the corners are minor problems. The biggest problem is that there are not enough wards."

Brand also sighed, he obviously knew this.

Arkham Psychiatric Hospital has a long history. When this building was built, Gotham didn’t have that many people. The hospital’s carrying capacity was limited. Circulation, the ward is still tight.

The main contradiction at the Arkham Psychiatric Hospital now is the contradiction between the backward facility conditions and the growing demand for money from gang bosses.

After the disaster in Gotham, this contradiction has become more and more prominent. The logistics facilities are being rebuilt, and most of the gangsters are idle. So what better place to go than the Arkham Club?
Here they reorganize the industry, exchange resources in their hands, form circles, expand contacts, and prepare for the next step of development.

Everyone communicates with each other, exchanges information, and advances according to the different levels of the circle. If you don’t join in at this time, when the time comes, the real work will start, and you won’t even be able to drink soup.

Especially after Jack returned to the mental hospital, he was really a very troublesome guy. The three of them, Cobblepot, Evans and Jack, could be said to be incompatible.

Cobbot and Evans can barely stay in the same room, but it will not work if Alberto comes out. When the future penguin Cobbot and the clown stay in the same room, the two of them often have different views And fight.

Coppert belongs to the Lawful Evil faction in Gotham. Simply put, he is not crazy enough. In fact, the Penguin in the original book is similar. He runs a big restaurant, chats and laughs with gang bosses, and even became the mayor. It is a normal to abnormal promotion route in Gotham, and it is completely different from the chaotic evil of the clown.

So Coppert thinks that the clown is a complete lunatic who can't communicate, while the clown thinks that Copott is an idiot who is no different from those gangster bosses, and staying with him for a second is an insult to him.

Cobbot doesn't bother to reason with a lunatic, and the clown is lazy to talk too much with a fool, so the way for the two of them to resolve their disputes is to fight.

Both of them are not strong enough in force, let’s not talk about Cobbot, they are thin and weak, and the clown is a little crazy because of his brain, so he has no way to fight. The two of them can fight evenly every time, but in the end they are bloody , were tied to the hospital bed and stared at each other.

On the other hand, the clown and Evans have huge differences in terms of artistic understanding. The two of them mainly quarrel, mainly because Evans doesn't like to beat people with hands, and Jack can't beat Evans at all. The way they quarrel becomes There are excerpts from operas that compete with each other.

If Evans' singing can be considered pleasant, then Jack's singing level would be shocked even if Batman came in person.

As long as they shared a ward, letters complaining about noise and nuisances would snowball into Schiller's office.

So these three people can only have one ward per person.

There were not many wards in the first place, and these three patients with no profit output insisted on occupying a ward each. Schiller had disliked them for a long time, but these three people had legitimate reasons.

Coppert was stabbed by Evans a few times before, and he was really seriously injured. It is somewhat inhumane to let him be discharged from the hospital now.

The conflict between Evans and his father has not been completely resolved, Alberto is determined not to return to the Falcone Manor, and the godfather has no intention of coming to pick up his son, so he can only procrastinate like this.

Jack has nothing to do because Batman is busy with classes, and Gordon's mental health and work pressure have to be considered, so he can only stay here.

It was another afternoon when Schiller had just finished lunch, and Jack was standing on the balcony on the seventh floor of the Arkham Psychiatric Hospital, with one foot outside the balcony railing.

In the room, Bruce, Evans, and Copperpot stood there. Evans said to Jack: "If you have something to say, can you come back from there first? If you fall, the professor will definitely be very angry. "

Bruce just came to Evans to hand over the work of the club. He didn't know all the thrilling things that happened in Arkham Mental Hospital during this period, so he turned to Evans and asked Evans: "What the hell is going on? Why did he Want to jump off a building?"

"Can't you see it?" Coppert said to Bruce, sitting on the hospital bed next to him, "He's a madman, he's sick."

Evans was still trying to persuade Jack: "This is the 7th floor. If you fall like this, you will definitely hit the ground head first. The brains and blood will stain a large piece of the ground, and the professor will have to pay a lot of cleaning fees. Definitely going to be very angry."

Cobblepot also said: "There are stone and brick roads downstairs, and it is difficult to clean up blood splashed in. All the bricks must be lifted up. If you dare to do this, I have no doubt that he will do it for you." A funeral that stinks of copper."

There was a look of embarrassment on Jack's face. He said, "Could it be that he will carry my coffin among a group of gang bosses, and then let them read a eulogy to me? Let you idiot give me flowers, let that Someone who has no taste in music singing to me? My God! He's a devil!"

"But do you think I will be afraid?!" Jack patted the guardrail hard, and said like a chant: "The heroic Jack is not afraid of the devil, and I am going to prove it to you now, I am an Arkham Knight!"

As he spoke, he leaned hard to the left and fell straight down. Bruce rushed to the balcony in two steps, and then saw Jack floating in mid-air, and Schiller downstairs stretched out a hand with an irritable expression on his face. toss him aside.

Jack, who landed on the ground, rolled around laughing, and said, "Hahahahahaha! Ordinary people, you say you are an ordinary person! Hahahahahaha, this joke is really funny, I must listen to it again tomorrow, hahahahahaha !"

Evans glanced back at the calendar, then at Copperport and said, "Is there going to be a 15th this week?"

Cobbot stood up and walked out the door, intending to go back to his ward. He said: "I bet it will be more than 20 times."

There was only Bruce standing on the balcony. He looked back at Evans and Copperpot, and then looked down at Schiller and Jack. The wind on the balcony messed up his hair, and he muttered in a low voice. Saying:

"...Am I crazy?"

　whee.

　
(End of this chapter)