In early winter, Gotham still rains. After a night of cold rain, the few remaining fallen leaves on the trees are beaten to the ground. The asphalt road glistens with cold water, and withered leaves and grass swirl along the tiny water streams into the sewer. After the sun comes out, the dampness in the soil rises, enveloping Gotham University in the scent of earth.
In such weather, dressing too thick can be stifling, while dressing too thin can be cold. Most students coming out of the dormitory wear coats and scarves. Once they walk into the drizzle, their shoulders are covered with fine, sparkling water droplets, and only upon entering the classroom do they take off their damp outerwear, revealing shirts and suspenders underneath.
Sitting in front of the podium, Shiller looks up and notices that about eighty percent of the students are dressed formally. Although bowing their heads to read, the raised brows and whispered conversations indicate their current mood isn't calm.
The Christmas dance is approaching. It's an annual grand event at Gotham University, where students find dance partners a month in advance, followed by endless rehearsals. They spend all their spare time spinning in the club activity room, from the first snowfall until the evening bell on Christmas Eve.
Relationships established during this awkward youthful era tend to be short-lived. Most students chase and embrace recklessly driven by hormonal surges, then turn away indifferently or resentfully when the frenzy subsides. Yet, year after year, group after group, they repeat the same story.
Outside the tall floor-to-ceiling windows, fine snowflakes are gradually falling. Standing in front of the blackboard, Shiller holds a manuscript in one hand and chalk in the other. Gotham University retains the tradition of chalkboard writing and requires professors to have good chalkboard writing skills, which are specially checked and included in the professor's evaluations.
The Introduction to Psychology course requires a lot of chalkboard writing, so Shiller often arrives a bit early to finish most of the writing, leaving just a small part of the exercises to complete during class.
He writes a few strokes then stops to glance at the manuscript. Although he knows the content by heart, the chalkboard writing requires neat formatting and smooth writing, with particular attention to detail, so his writing isn't quick.
Thanks to Brainiac, the students sitting below have a solid learning foundation, at least no one asks how to understand the simplest copperplate script cursive. After Shiller finishes a long string of professional terms, when he turns back most of the students are copying notes, the classroom resonating with the sound of writing.
"In the cognitive psychology section, the problem-solving of attention is a key topic to explore. In the last class, I introduced several solutions to attention problems in the field of brain science. Next, we will explore the impact of our subjective cognition on the processing method of information entering the brain..."
"Please look at the board beneath me. This section lists several subjective influences of perceptual information..."
Shiller straightens his body, reaching out to point at the board. Just as he stands upright, he sees the classroom door being slightly pushed open. The students at the back also feel the cold air seep in and turn to look.
In the gap of the door, Victor's face is shrouded in shadow, only his glasses glimmering with faint light. Shiller lowers his hand, nods at Victor, glances at his manuscript, and says, "You all jot down the key points, I'll be right back."
The students hardly react. Shiller squeezes through the seats to reach the door, slipping out through the gap. The two stand in the shadow outside the classroom door, Shiller asks Victor, "What's going on?"
"One of my students attempted suicide," Victor says, "The night before last, he forgot to turn off the power to the lab's dynamo before leaving, causing the low-temperature holder to dry fire for a whole night. I said a couple of things, and he tried hanging himself in the lab."
Shiller gently closed his eyes for a moment, then said, "That's good news, right? At least it is in Gotham."
"Yes, he didn't blow up the lab directly. Gotham is getting better. But you still need to see him, because if he does hang himself in the lab, I'll have to face scrutiny."
"Wait a moment." Shiller pushes the door open again, standing at the back telling the students, "Sorry, there's an issue in the Cryogenic Physics Department, you'll know soon. The class ends here. Be careful of slipping when practicing your dance. Class dismissed."
Students immediately start murmuring. Some pull out their phones to ask what happened to their classmates in the Cryogenic Physics Department. But most are excitedly calling their dance partners, ready for a fresh round of spinning in the activity room.
Shiller collects his coat. While straightening his front, Victor says, "We still need to focus on guidance. After all, such a fragile soul isn't common in Gotham."
"What do you expect me to do?" Shiller asks, somewhat impatiently, "Yell at him and then let him hang himself in the psychology department classroom?"
"If you yell at him, I wouldn't doubt he'd blow up the entire Gotham University." Victor shakes his head, saying, "Please don't give him that chance, okay?"
"Tell me what really happened," Shiller says, picking up his scarf and walking out, followed by Victor.
The newly built Gotham University isn't entirely modern. Although reinforced concrete school buildings are used, their facade mimics Gothic architecture in stone design. And due to abundant space, the school has about a hundred useless corridors, becoming the best resting place for gales and snowstorms. Walking through them requires lips tightly shut, or you'll dine bitterly on the northwest wind for dinner.
Both wrapped tightly in their coats, hands shoved in pockets, they purse their mouths while passing through the corridor. Victor turns back, enduring the gale's assault, and says, "A vulnerable young boy, strictly controlled by his mother, couldn't get along with roommates after entering university and always lived off-campus. He tends to be distracted when doing things, previously ruining someone else's flask, and isn't well-liked in the lab."
"Are they isolating him?"
"No. In fact, it's hard to isolate him as everyone conducts their own experiments, usually with little interaction."
"Is he sloppy?"
"Not really, outwardly he seems relatively tidy."
"Not meticulously neat?"
"No, just passable. His cuffs and collar are fairly clean, but the shirt isn't especially ironed, nothing compared to our Mr. Rodriguez."
"That's all in the past," Shiller says, "Merkel works well in the shop now and doesn't seem to want to be a butler anymore."
"But you got Brainiac, right? I really don't know where you got an intelligent iron that can access Brainiac."
"I need to repeat these things because I'm sick," Shiller said, "and this little boy you're describing seems normal."
"So he's just a bit vulnerable, right?"
Shiller shook his head and said, "It's not because you scolded him."
"What?"
"He wants to commit suicide, and obviously it's not because you blamed him. It's just that the reason is too embarrassing to mention, so he wants you to bear part of the responsibility."
"What the hell?" Victor turned around after passing through the wind-swept porch. The two of them walked up the spiral staircase together. Since the weather outside was bad, they didn't choose to take a shortcut but planned to pass through the administration building and take a detour to the experimental area.
But before they could enter the experimental building, Mrs. Edison blocked their way. "Chick has already been taken to the reception room upstairs."
"Didn't I say let them wait in the lab?"
"Yes, but it's too cold there," Mrs. Edison said, "Low temperatures are not conducive to emotional recovery. He needs a warmer place to drink hot tea to cope with the worse weather."
Victor pursed his lips, hearing the dissatisfaction in Mrs. Edison's tone. Shiller lightly touched his arm, then said, "Take us there, ma'am. The weather will get better."
Mrs. Edison said no more. She picked up the tray and led the two upstairs. Entering the reception room, there were a few students that Shiller mostly didn't recognize, except for one he had met once at the Gotham Police Department.
"Professor..."
"Professor, you're here."
"Sorry, he said he didn't want to wait there, so we just..."
"It's alright," Victor said, "You all go back to class."
Mrs. Edison opened her mouth to speak. Shiller said, "I know you still have to rehearse for the Christmas ball. It's enough with me and Mrs. Edison here. Go ahead."
Victor was already staring at Chick sitting on the sofa. He saw Chick's face show an unnatural expression when Shiller mentioned the Christmas ball.
"You should have let them stay here," Mrs. Edison said, "He needs companionship from his peers. You might scare him."
And the student who had met Shiller once took the other students out of the room. Mrs. Edison wanted to stop them, but they left so quickly that when the door closed, not even a breeze was left behind.
Shiller took off his coat, handed it to Mrs. Edison, and nodded to her, saying, "Thank you, ma'am."
With no choice, Mrs. Edison set down the tray with hot coffee and helped hang up the coat.
Shiller sat down opposite Chick, looked him over, then said, "Not finding a dance partner isn't something to be ashamed of. Even if someone once signaled to you and then stood you up, that was their fault. You don't need to be so extreme."
Chick's face turned pale. Victor quickly patted Shiller's shoulder. Mrs. Edison was stunned. She looked at Chick and asked, "So you are..."
"I didn't!" He stood up, trembling all over, "Just because I made a small mistake, he scolded me in front of so many students..."
"Is the new choice for the dance partner who stood you up among them?" Shiller looked up at him and said, "They won't laugh at you for being scolded by a professor, but they definitely will if you try to hang yourself in the lab."
Victor couldn't help but give Shiller a look. Chick seemed entirely driven mad: "I told you it's not because of..."
"Brainiac has all your mobile chat records," Shiller said in a low voice. "Whether you've been dumped, it knows best. If you're determined to accuse Professor Fries, he can request a check through Brainiac when under investigation. Although the results wouldn't be disclosed, if it shows no issue, everyone will know it's not for this reason you attempted suicide. How rumors will spin from there is unknown."
Chick began to shake all over. Mrs. Edison still showed some compassion, handed him a cup of hot coffee, and said, "Don't be afraid, child. Whatever it is, just say it. We can all help you."
"I just... I..." Chick's complexion changed from pale to flushed red. He glared at Victor as though wanting to unleash all his anger towards him.
"You indeed have some issues," Shiller turned his head to look at Victor, "The fact that between a student and you, he felt you're the easy target means you should reflect on whether your temper is too good normally."