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Chapter 183: Arkham Daily Life (3)

When Jack lay on the bed at Arkham Psychiatric Hospital again, Schiller gloated, "Now you know where your permanent home is, right? Seeing as you paid so much, I can give you some more painkillers."

"Do you think I'm an addict?" Jack yelled angrily. "Don't compare me to those drug addicts who ruin their brains!"

"Come on, at least you have a permanent bed here. You've seen how much the gang leaders outside would want a bed like this but can't get in," Schiller said.

At the mention of gang leaders, Jack made a disgusted face and muttered under his breath, "You and that bat are the same. He doesn't want to laugh, and you don't want to be crazy. You're both deceiving yourselves..."

He stared at the ceiling, rambling on. "Why do you have to be so serious? Why can't you admit it? Why can't you be proud of your chaos and disorder?"

Suddenly, he calmed down, even speaking philosophically. "In this mediocre world, having a unique crazy soul should be something to be proud of."

"But you always keep these brilliant souls trapped in disgusting shells."

"Living seriously and seriously every day, it's no different from those zombies. It makes me sick..."

"Madness is not the only way to understand this world," Schiller said, sitting down. His tone was calm. "I have always believed this."

"If you can't become a sharp knife and pierce the world's disguise with madness, you will be tamed by those hypocritical orders."

Jack spoke like he was talking in his sleep, using some difficult words. Each word would pause in his mouth, as if he didn't know them, but each sentence was so complete and fluent.

"There is chaos only because there is order. Without order, chaos is no longer chaos. Chaos will become order when you destroy the order, and you are building another kind of order."

"Many people think that the ultimate answer to this world is chaos, but when they have this idea, it means they have been tamed by order. There is no ultimate answer in this world."

"Is this why you and that bat don't want to do anything?" Jack looked at Schiller.

"I'm different from him," Schiller poured himself a glass of water. "Batman is a warrior who maintains order in chaos, but I'm just an ordinary person."

"Ordinary person..." Jack sneered at his words.

"And you, you think of yourself as a savior, wanting to tell everyone that only madness can understand the truth. Especially wanting to tell Batman that the answers he wants are within reach, as simple as laughing."

"But he understands this, he just doesn't want to do it."

"So I think he's a psychopath," Jack's tone suddenly revealed a hint of jealousy. "He has what I don't have, the most fundamental darkness and madness that I dream of, but he just doesn't want to do it. He could be the great god who tore apart this mediocre lie, but he just doesn't want to laugh."

"This problem echoes in my mind every day, making me feel confused and crazy."

"Why are they so serious?" Jack looked at Schiller and said, "The person who dresses up as a bat is a psychopath... and the person who dresses up as an ordinary person too."

Outside the window, the night fell slowly in Gotham, and the city lights flickered. After the weather warmed up, the whole city began to show new vitality, still with a hint of madness and evil, still chaotic, and still bustling.

In the morning, Schiller was in his office, holding a paintbrush. Brand was beside him, somewhat reluctant to take off his paint-stained gloves. Schiller said to him, "I'm pretty sure this hospital needs a thorough renovation."

He pointed to the wall corner. "If it weren't for that crazy man's graffiti damaging my walls, I wouldn't have noticed that the bricks there are cracking. They might collapse one day."

Brand sighed. "You're right, but this requires a long-term plan. We can't just tell those patients tomorrow that we're starting renovations and tell them to get out, right?"

He looked up and said, "Anyway, so far, we can only do it ourselves."

"You just can't bear to lose these days' revenue," Schiller laughed. "If we renovate for two months, we won't get any commission during this time, and we'll lose a lot, right?"

Brand rubbed his nose and cursed under his breath, "It's all because of your damn Gang industry chain. I never knew money could be made so easily in my life. If we stop working for two months, how much money will I lose?"

"Okay, then we'll do it ourselves, but the cracks in the corners of the walls are a small problem. The biggest problem is the shortage of hospital rooms."

Brand also sighed, he obviously knew this.

Arkham Psychiatric Hospital has a long history. When this building was built, Gotham did not have as many people, and the hospital's capacity was limited. Even with Schiller's parole and prison cycle, hospital rooms are still tight.

Now the main contradiction of Arkham Psychiatric Hospital is the contradiction between outdated facilities and the increasing demand for money-making by the Gang bosses.

After the disaster in Gotham, this contradiction has become more prominent. The logistics facilities are being rebuilt. Most of the Gang bosses are idle. What better place than the Arkham Club?

They reorganize their industries, exchange resources, form circles, expand their networks, and prepare for the next development.

Everyone exchanges information according to the different levels of the circle hierarchy. If you don't join in now, when the real construction starts, you won't even have a seat at the table.

Especially after Jack returned to the mental hospital, he was really a very troublesome guy. Copperpot, Evans, and Jack, the three of them, can be described as incompatible.

Copperpot and Evans can barely stay in one room, but if Alberto comes out, it's not possible. The future Penguin, Copperpot, and Joker staying in the same room often fight because of their different views.

Copperpot belongs to the lawful evil faction in Gotham, in simple terms, he is not crazy enough. In fact, The Penguin in the original work is almost the same. He runs a big restaurant, talks and laughs with the Gang bosses, and even becomes the mayor. This is a normal to abnormal promotion route in Gotham, which is completely different from the chaotic evil of the Joker.

So Copperpot thinks the Joker is a complete lunatic and cannot communicate with him, while the Joker thinks Copperpot is a stupid person no different from those Gang bosses, and staying with him for one more second is an insult to him.

Copperpot disdains to reason with a lunatic, and the Joker is too lazy to talk to a stupid person, so their way of resolving disputes is to fight.

They are not strong enough, especially Copperpot, who is small and weak. The Joker is a little crazy and has no method in fighting. Every time they fight, they end up with injuries and are tied to the hospital bed staring at each other.

As for the Joker and Evans, they have huge differences in artistic understanding. They mainly argue, mainly because Evans doesn't like to fight, and Jack can't beat Evans at all. So they argue by singing opera selections to each other.

If Evans' singing can still be considered pleasant, then Jack's singing level is enough to make Batman fall over.

If they live in the same hospital room, complaints about noise and disturbance will be sent to Schiller's office like snowflakes.

So these three people can only occupy one hospital room each.

Originally, there were not many hospital rooms, and these three patients who had no profit output insisted on occupying one hospital room each. Schiller has been unhappy with them for a long time, but unfortunately, these three people all have legitimate reasons.

Copperpot was seriously injured by Evans before, and it was really inhumane to discharge him now.

The conflict between Evans and his father has not been completely resolved. Alberto is determined not to return to Falcone Manor, and Godfather has not come to pick up his son, so they can only drag on like this.

Jack had nothing to do because Batman was busy with school and he had to consider Gordon's mental health and work pressure, so he had to rely on being here.

On an afternoon just after lunch, Jack stood on the balcony of the 7th floor of Arkham Asylum, with one foot outside the balcony railing.

In the room, Bruce, Evans and Copperpot were standing there. Evans said to Jack, "Speak properly, can you come back first? If you fall, the professor will definitely be very angry."

Bruce only came to find Evans to hand over the club work. He didn't know about the shocking things that had happened at Arkham Asylum during this time, so he turned to Evans and asked, "What's going on? Why does he want to jump off the building?"

"Don't you see it yet?" Copperpot sat on the nearby hospital bed and said to Bruce, "He's crazy and having an episode."

Evans was still trying to persuade Jack, "This is the 7th floor. If you fall like this, your head will hit the ground first, and your brain and blood will dirty a large area of ​​the ground. The professor will have to pay a lot of cleaning fees, and he will definitely be very angry."

Copperpot also said, "The floor below is all stone brick road, and it is difficult to clean the blood splattered on it. All the bricks have to be lifted. If you dare to do this, I have no doubt that he will arrange a funeral full of copper smell for you."

A hesitant expression appeared on Jack's face. He said, "Will he carry my coffin to a group of gang leaders and let them recite the eulogy for me? Let you, the fool, give me flowers, and let that person with no music taste sing a hymn for me? Oh my god! He's a devil!"

"But do you think I'm afraid?!" Jack slapped the railing hard and said like a chant, "The brave Jack is not afraid of the devil. I'm going to prove it to you now. I am the 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. Schiller below reached out a hand and threw him aside irritably.

Jack, who fell to the ground, laughed and rolled around. He said, "Hahaha! Ordinary person, you call yourself ordinary person! Hahaha, this joke is really too funny. I must listen to it again tomorrow, hahaha!"

Evans looked back at the calendar and then at Copperpot, "Let's make a bet. Will it be the 15th time this week?"

Copperpot stood up and walked out of the room, intending to return to his hospital room. He said, "I bet it will definitely exceed 20 times."

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 blew his hair very messy, and he muttered to himself, "Am I crazy?"