"He was not forced to do so. He chose it himself, and he didn't need help. The misfortune in everyone's eyes was not his scars, but his weapons. Those lonely, dark and incommunicable temperaments were created by him, with the purpose of warning those criminals."

"He doesn't need a soft embrace, no one needs to pull out his fangs with warmth, no one needs to remind him that 'You didn't turn on the light', he is not blind."

"But what no one in this world can refuse is that I understand everything about you, know what determination you have taken on what path, and I have also embarked on the same path with you, moving side by side with you."

In an instant, Bruce's hand on the armrest clenched, and the blue veins spread from his forearm to his fingers. After a while, he let go of his hand and said, "...and Schiller pushed me onto another road."

"Yes, it's because he has walked this path himself that he doesn't want you to go on this path."

"Don't he need someone to stand shoulder to shoulder?"

"Understanding is always short-lived, comfort cannot be the motivation for anyone to move forward, and everyone is lonely when they walk their own path."

Bruce took a deep breath, staring at the screen and said, "When I first met Schiller, many people said that we were very similar, including Gordon, Harvey and Victor."

"He is older than me and is my teacher. I should have followed his footsteps on this path, but from the beginning I had a premonition that over the past few years, he is not gradually drawing me closer, but pushing me away, not looking for our similarities, but creating our differences."

"This is the fundamental reason why we will have fierce conflicts, just like a magnet suddenly turns its magnetic poles, making the two sides who should have attracted each other become mutually exclusive."

"Whether you like it or not, the self you see will be your future. There is nothing wrong with this road, but neither Batman nor Schiller have reached the end. Since you have the opportunity to go on another road, why not add a little chance to your final success?"

After the sickly voice came to an end, Bruce let out a long breath and gradually calmed down. He lowered his head gently and said, "They are like two parallel lines, moving in one direction in one direction. We are like two intersecting lines, and after meeting each other, we part ways."

"Understanding and taking care of each other on the way to climb the mountain, or standing on the top of two successful peaks to look at each other, are two completely different relationships, but they are equally romantic." The pathological tone finally became a little higher, as if it was a chanting.

"You will become parallel lines with many people, walking side by side with them, and will also become intersecting lines with many people, reflecting each other in different fields. If everyone is an isolated island, society and civilization will be the mountains formed by countless isolated islands in parallel."

"You have passed the loneliest stage of your life, the stage of constantly peeking into yourself and finding social positioning, and begin to gather towards the mountains."

"And what Schiller did was to prevent you from becoming a mountain alone, and use darkness and fear to make others look up to the mountains and dare not get close to them."

"This is what he did, and what Batman is doing, but you've turned around and bordered the mountains."

In a morbid whisper, Bruce turned his head and looked at the crowd sitting on the other side of the theater. The light and shadow of the screen flowed through their outlines, and the undulating lines looked like mountains after mountains.

All of them were once a small island in the vast ocean, and then they continued to gather, storms pushed them together, lightning shredded away the inconsistent edges, sunlight allowed them to grow upwards, and waves allowed them to take root downwards.

Perhaps now, this is still not a majestic mountain, but another island that came a little late still cheered and rushed into the embrace of the mountains. The communication of words is like the blending wind, and the hands stretched out like mixed sand.

In this case, two lonely and dark mountains, paired with shadows under the moonlight, are just a scenery on the skyline.

Their understanding and resonance are like the low trumpet sounds coming from the wind. No matter how wonderful the story recorded there is, it still cannot eliminate the impulse of the young bat looking back at the mountains behind him, and the heart of a child who wants to see the radiant rays and lights of thousands of families.

Bruce's shoulders slowly relaxed, and the deep sense of inclusion disappeared. He finally pulled himself out of the screen to see his partner who was also sitting in the theater with him.

The moment Bruce turned his head, Clark instantly noticed it.

His eyes crossed the outline of the crowd, the shadow of the seat, opposite to Bruce's eyes. The highest mountain among the mountains was always so tall, sharp, and as solid as a rock.

Clark saw that Bruce showed a very weak smile, so weak that Clark thought it was an illusion caused by light and shadow casting on his face, but this did not prevent Clark from giving him a bigger smile. The boy in the town never cared about illusions and lies, and was not stingy to give anyone a smile.

The pathological laughed, no longer so low and hypnotic, but with real fun and ridiculous.

"The only solution to getting rid of patriarchy is to not seek any love from your father except family affection, and don't seek friendship and understanding from your father. Finding these will only give you power."

"Boys should play with the boy, don't they?"

Bruce turned to look at him, but he was not alert, and his eyes seemed to be reluctant to leave, but he still said, "I'll sit there."

"Go."

Bruce stood up with his handrail, and just as he was about to leave his seat with smooth steps, a sick voice sounded again: "Your seat is always yours, just like that hole in the tower... Welcome back at any time."

Seeing Bruce's stiff movement again, he smiled sickly and lowly and said, "Sorry, I didn't mean it..."

"... Sorry, I didn't mean it." Schiller looked down at the tie sprinkled with red wine. He stood up and looked at Batman opposite him and said, "I'm afraid I have to take some time to sort out my image and to organize the room. If you have other questions you want to ask, call me at any time."

Batman also stood up. He did not stare at Shiller anymore, but instead turned his eyes away and looked at Shiller's stretched out hand. Batman hesitated for a moment, but still gently tweaked the switch on the inside of his finger.

Holding his hands together, neither side fell down. Schiller stood next to the patio on the second floor, watching Batman leave, with a calm expression on his face.

Schiller began to organize the items in the room. Although the house was a bit messy, it was very clean, or as a house that had been vacant for several years, it only needed a little cleaning to move in.

Schiller put all the messy collection together and began to select one by one. The audience in the theater looked at the pile of strange things and began to express their opinions one after another.

"No, this one is too ugly. Was this statue dug out of the Pharaoh's tomb? Why is it still sticking to mud? I think Schiller would definitely not want it."

"Oh my god, he put it to the left, which means he's going to leave it, Constantine, you guessed it wrong."

"What? Don't you want this? I like orange, but it seems that Professor Schiller doesn't like bright colors very much."

"I like the sculpture of that cat, and I think it should be nice to put it on the bookshelf."

Clark patted the seat next to him and said to Bruce who had just walked over, "Come here, what do you think about the former owner of this house? How come there are so many collections with different styles?"

"This is not left by the former owner of the house." Bruce sat down and said, "It was Batman stuffed it in overnight, it was the collection of the Wayne family."

Everyone turned to look at him, as if waiting for him to reveal the secret. Bruce shook his head gently and said, "He is to observe what collections Schiller left and what they put away when he comes again next time."

"People's aesthetic taste can largely reflect a person's personality. People with the same aesthetic taste often have more common points."

"Batman wants to know how similar Schiller is to him."
Chapter completed!