Chapter 1447 Research on Manipulation (Thirteen)

In Schiller's thinking tower, the arrogant room is very large and spans two floors. The first floor is the living area and work area, and the second floor is the rest area.

Bruce often moves on the first floor, so he walked into the door of the room with ease, kicked the carpet he had just stepped on with his heel, and let the other edge of the carpet fit perfectly on the threshold, and then walked forward.

Schiller came to the bookshelf, took out two books and put them on the table, walked into his own work area without looking back, put on his glasses, and said while flipping through a stack of documents.

"I'm not sure why you're suddenly interested in psychoanalysis, but I have to remind you that psychology is a very young discipline, and the masters who founded the schools you know are not historical figures."

"If you expect historical sages to provide you with the wisdom of the ancients like the masters of mathematics and physics, then you're thinking too much."

"Are you one of them?" Bruce sat on the sofa, and then he saw two cups on the coffee table. The degree of dryness of the remaining red wine stains in the cups showed that the previous person had just left, so he asked: "Before me, did you have a guest?"

Schiller paused while flipping through the documents and said, "This has nothing to do with the topic of your visit today."

"Who is he? Greed?"

"No, a friend from afar."

Schiller came over and put the pile of information he had found in his memory bank in front of Bruce. Instead of sitting down, he walked to the desk in the work area and began to clean up the things on it.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. He saw that Schiller's desk was filled with a half-folded envelope, neatly stacked letter paper, a seal, and a candle for wax, which proved that Schiller was writing a letter to someone before Bruce knocked on the door.

"What are you doing at Monsanto?" Schiller asked, pressing the crease of the envelope he had just folded with his fingertips.

"Don't change the subject. How come you have a guest other than yourself?"

"The dream world is a vast world. Anyone can come and go from here. Maybe they suddenly discovered this tower during their journey, so they came in to sit down, and I happened to be free to entertain them."

"Another Batman?"

"Bruce." Schiller stood in front of the table, his fingertips still on the envelope, but he looked up at Bruce and said, "I was happy that you took the initiative to ask me for study materials. Now it seems that I still have too much expectation for your enthusiasm for learning psychology, which is like a chronic disease."

"What else did he give you besides red wine?" Bruce leaned on the back of the sofa, turned his head and looked at Schiller and asked.

"Half of the mysterious equation, do you want to see it?"

"Not interested, it's terrible."

Schiller cleaned up the table and walked out from behind the desk. He sat opposite Bruce, but Bruce suddenly hesitated for some reason. He seemed to weigh it in his mind for a long time before asking: "Have you told him about Thomas?"

"He should have seen it a long time ago."

"He saw everything." Bruce stared into Schiller's eyes with his blue eyes and said: "About me, about you, about Thomas, about this Gotham where we are, and I know nothing about him."

"Are you accusing me of hiding something for him?" Schiller didn't look angry. He just took the two cups aside so that there was no obstacle between him and Bruce.

Then he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs, clasped his hands together and said, "You can understand it this way. He is another me, and he should be the future you."

"Someone told me about this... Can I go get a glass of water?"

Bruce stood up, went to the cup holder against the wall and picked up a cup, then went to the side of the island and poured himself a glass of water with a kettle. He did not return to the sofa to sit, but stood behind the island, as if using the things on the island as a barrier to separate him from Schiller.

"In the future, I will be a completely logical lunatic, just like you, and you don't want me to be like this, so what about him?"

Bruce put the cup down. In fact, he rarely said such a long paragraph to anyone else, but the countless high-pitched talks and debates in this room over the past few years made him accustomed to his voice constantly echoing in this space.

"If he says he doesn't want me to be him, then he is regretting it, which means he is not completely self-consistent. If he says he wants me to be him, then you shouldn't get along so well."

"You have successfully found the logical loophole again." Schiller maintained his original posture, turned his head to look at him, and said, "Like a good detective, as always."

"You are very interested in the way we get along, but what I can tell you is that to some extent, this is the like-mindedness of two mentally ill people. Therefore, we will not have a day to get along like this, and there is no need for it."

Bruce saw that Schiller's eyes were still calm, just like when they discussed academic issues countless times, there was a vast ocean in those gray eyes, so quiet that it seemed that there would never be waves.

Bruce then calmed down, looked at Schiller, and said, "You talk to him on an equal footing, but you always manipulate me. I seem to be missing a layer of armor compared to him. What is that?"

"Why don't you look for it yourself?"

Bruce suddenly seemed a little irritated. He put down the cup more heavily, making a clanging sound.

Schiller stood up, walked to the other side of the island, put his hands on the counter and said, "I knew I shouldn't have any expectations for your enthusiasm for learning, which was like a chronic disease. I wouldn't have given you a hint before."

Bruce looked up at him.

"But you really don't have to cut your neck again."

Schiller poured himself a glass of water. Bruce took a deep breath and sighed, as if he was impatient with what he was going to say next, so he said very briefly: "First, then, after that, finally I... I have said it many times."

"Well, I think you should try to change your perspective, such as changing from being manipulated to being a manipulator."

"You should know that manipulating others is evil, right?"

"You are already evil enough."

Bruce paused for a moment and suddenly laughed, his chest was beating fast The expression fluctuated for a while, and then he looked at Schiller and said, "This is the only place where I am better than him, right?"

"It is also the most crucial point." Schiller picked up the water cup, raised it to Bruce and said, "This evil comes from me, my honor."

"Okay, what should I do?"

Schiller shook his head and said, "The hint ends here, but based on my shallow knowledge of mathematics and physics, the half of the equation given to me by the other Batman may be related to some underlying rules of the universe."

Watching Bruce's back as he hurried out of the door, Schiller smiled.

"So, it was you who hinted to Bruce from the beginning, so he made such a plan and hurriedly put it into practice?" Constantine said after listening to the whole process.

Then he sighed, "You actually used another Batman to stimulate him? ... Well, our Bruce is not completely innocent, forever young, and never learns."

"I don't mean to brag, but deceiving others or coercing others with violence is completely different from this." Schiller put down his glass, took another puff of his cigar, and then said, "I like to play the cards."

"Then watch others see through your tricks, but they have no choice because they can't control the emotions you provoke. They can only be helpless and entangled and be led by you to the path you want them to go. You enjoy this, right?"

"Partly so."

"Too evil."

"Only for smart people." Schiller shook his head and said, "Not enough For smart fools, there is no helplessness or entanglement, only happiness, such as that stupid girl Amanda. "

"She has never thought about why she put me in jail, implanted nanocontrollers in me, and constantly offended me, but I still kindly provided her with strategies to subdue dangerous criminals."

Schiller's expression seemed to contain some feelings about some rare animals being so rare. He tapped the wall of the cup with his fingers and said, "Do you know? For people who are stupid enough, relying on me does not cost anything. As long as they can't feel the mental pain I often bring to people, it doesn't exist at all."

"For example, Amanda, she is eager to vent the pain and anger brought by her life experience on Elliot, I provided her with a strategy to let her put Elliot in a special detention cell and torture him, and she thought it was great. "

"I recommended Bane, my colleague introduced to me by Deathstroke, and she gladly accepted my choice. I said Gallardo would be a good bait, so she used her connections within the FBI to throw Gallardo, who had just escaped from Oliver's pursuit, into the designated cell."

"In the whole process, she didn't see any clues from any link, thinking that she was in control, and she got great satisfaction and happiness from this illusion."

Schiller smiled, pinched the wine glass with the pale knuckles of his other hand, took a sip of wine and said, "That's what I said, stupid people Love any savior you can count on. Only smart people want to kill God. "

"It's good, isn't it?" Constantine shrugged and said, "Being manipulated and manipulated by someone who is much smarter than you is not a completely bad thing. At least Amanda is happy now."

"Most smart people suffer for their long-term vision." Schiller slowly exhaled smoke and said, "For short-sighted people, what will happen tomorrow is always a mystery, so they can naturally focus on today's happiness."

"But the pain of smart people is not without reason. Who can guarantee that tomorrow will definitely be a good thing? If stupid people are no longer useful when bad things happen, those short-term happiness will make him pay ten times or a hundred times the price. "

Constantine raised his eyebrows, drank the good wine in the glass in one breath like a cheap whiskey, coughed twice, and then said: "Do you think Amanda will be retaliated by Bruce? But in the end he heard your voice and should understand that Amanda is just a tool."

"Of course he understands." Schiller stood up and walked to the wine cabinet next to him and picked up a bottle of wine, which means that this conversation is far from over.

Constantine sighed in his heart. Just as Schiller said, the manipulation from Schiller was obvious, but it was impossible to refuse. He wanted to get up and leave now, but how could he refuse the good wines in Schiller's private collection?

Schiller sat back on the sofa with the wine and the wine knife. He opened the wine knife and said: "In theory, Bruce doesn't need to care about Amanda."

"But unfortunately, in addition to evil, Bruce's tolerance also comes from me."