I Became Batman's Teacher

Gotham City, on a morning that wasn't bright but was still warm, Schiller put down his coffee cup. He heard the sound of his colleague Anna's heels. A moment later, a blonde American sweetheart with a dark expression walked in and said, "The lazy bums at the new student registration desk called in sick. You'll have to cover for them for a day."

Schiller replied, "On my way. You're buying this coffee."

"You'll never get me!" Anna roared. Schiller happily took his coffee and walked out of the cafe. He glanced at Gotham City's perpetually overcast sky and began his fifth day here.

In his previous life, Schiller was a psychologist. After a plane crash, he was dumped in this city with its damnably simple folk. Fortunately, he was neither a hero nor a villain, but a leisurely and stable university teacher, in his old profession as a psychology professor.

Just as Schiller was happily anticipating a day of slacking off, a "ding-dong" sounded in his mind from the system, displaying: "Peter Parker has sent a chat request."

As Schiller walked towards the registration desk, he replied in his mind, "What's up, Peter?"

"Hey! I'm starting an internship at the Osborn Company tomorrow! You don't know how rare this opportunity is for me! And Gwen... I mean, she's going too, we'll be together, it's amazing! We can discuss genomic spirochetes and those super cool giant machines together..."

Schiller silently thought to himself, No girl wants to discuss those things with you, Spider-Man, wake up.

Since arriving here, Schiller had gained access to the "American Comics Chat System." The first person he unlocked was Spider-Man, Peter Parker. This chatterbox had been droning on for four and a half days about his teenage emotional journey of how he liked Gwen, wanted to pursue her, but was too afraid.

While encouraging Peter, Schiller arrived at the registration desk. He sat down to organize the forms, waiting for the year's new students to register.

However, it was strange. In the many days he'd been here, he hadn't seen the Bat-Signal light up, nor had any villains caused trouble. Life was so peaceful, it felt genuinely simple.

Soon, students started arriving to register, carrying stacks of materials. Schiller's job was just to record their names and dormitory assignments.

"Next!" Schiller called out without looking up. A long line had already formed. A young man sat down, and Schiller asked, "Name?"

"Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce... Male Dormitory Building 2, Room 306..." Schiller wrote it down, his pen tip suddenly pausing. He subtly looked up and observed the young man. He had blue eyes and black hair, and was very handsome. Schiller said, "Wayne?"

"Indeed, I am Wayne."

Schiller repeated, "Male Dormitory Building 2, Room 306. Didn't you hear clearly? Take your form and go quickly; the people behind you are waiting."

Now it was Bruce's turn to be taken aback. He picked up the form and asked, "Which department are you a professor in?"

"Psychology. Don't take my class, kid," Schiller said.

Bruce's interest was piqued, but Schiller was helpless. So, Batman was just starting university! No wonder he hadn't seen the Bat-Signal!

How could he be so unlucky? Batman was starting university just as he transmigrated into a university teacher!

Schiller had a thorough understanding of the danger level of the Batman series, especially this 18-year-old brat, Bruce, a detestable playboy!

Bruce didn't say anything else. He took the form, thanked Schiller, and left. After finishing the new student registration work, Schiller was about to head back to his professor's apartment to sleep when he suddenly remembered he'd forgotten his keys in his office. As he went up the office stairs, he met a tall, thin professor. Schiller said, "Hi, Jonathan, are you here to grab something too?"

"Yes, did you forget your keys in the office again?"

"Oh, that's right. Anna hurried me too much today, and I forgot when I left. I'll be right down after I get them. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

The moment Schiller and Jonathan passed each other, a chilling coldness crept up his spine. Jonathan... Jonathan Crane!

The supervillain Scarecrow!

Jonathan, with his back to Schiller, didn't see Schiller turn back and stare intently at him. If he hadn't learned today that Batman was just starting university, he wouldn't have remembered. Memories of Scarecrow surfaced in his mind—Gotham University Psychology Professor, PhD in Psychology and Chemistry, the future Scarecrow who would slaughter with fear gas, Jonathan Crane!

Schiller took a deep breath and continued upstairs at his usual pace. Jonathan wasn't Scarecrow yet, because Bruce was only 18, hadn't graduated from university, and hadn't become Batman yet. Jonathan wasn't the renowned world-class psychologist he would become; he was only slightly famous within the academic field of "Emotional Psychology." Schiller was more famous than him now...

Schiller was now a world-class master of criminal psychology and abnormal psychology, a renowned psychological researcher, and Gotham's most famous psychology professor.

That's why Jonathan's attitude had been quite good just now... But what was the use of that! Schiller wouldn't develop gas! He was a pure liberal arts student, and Jonathan had a doctorate in chemistry!

As expected, "mastering physics, chemistry, and mathematics opens doors everywhere..."

Schiller knew very well that the grand stage of Gotham City, the bloody curtain was about to be raised. And now, he was just a scholar without the strength to even lift a chicken, a weakling who struggled to move a chair, a purely knowledge-based talent. Let alone encountering these famous supervillains, even the background characters in comics, those thugs, could kill him with a gun!

And his worries became reality. The next morning, as usual, Schiller was at the university's psychology clinic, slacking off. He had just finished making coffee when he heard a crisp knock on the door.

"Professor Schiller, may I come in?"

Schiller took a deep breath. Does this lousy psychology clinic actually have students coming? I'm just here to slack off, okay? Do you understand paid leave?

At the door was Bruce Wayne!

Schiller gritted his teeth and said, "Please sit down, student. What psychological problem do you need to consult about?"

"Can't I come and chat if I don't have a problem?" Wayne spread his hands, his playboy demeanor evident.

Schiller pushed his glasses up and said, "This is a place for students to have psychological consultations. If you don't have a problem to consult about, then you can leave."

Schiller swore that his tone was so perfunctory it was drier than an airplane announcement, but Bruce still asked with interest, "Alright, then I'll ask a question. What do you think is the meaning of life?"

Schiller took a deep breath and opened the American Comics Chat System in his mind. He remembered that because he had previously guided Peter Parker's relationship issues, he had earned a random chat opportunity. He quickly typed in his mind:

"A kid whose parents are both dead, who vows to avenge all criminals, and who disguises himself as a playboy, is now asking me about the meaning of life. I want him to stop bothering me in the future, how should I answer him? Waiting online, it's urgent."

Soon, a reply appeared: "I am a teacher. Regarding your question, I believe you should maintain sufficient patience and provide psychological counseling to this unfortunate child from two aspects..."

Schiller looked at the name on the chat box: Charles Xavier! Professor X!

No wonder, the founder and headmaster of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, he truly was in his element.

However, Schiller, noticing the avatar, realized that Charles's avatar was clickable. In his mind, he clicked Charles's avatar, and a dialog box popped up: "First chat allows you to randomly copy one of the chat target's abilities (low-level). Do you wish to copy?"

Schiller clicked "Yes" without understanding.

"Telepathy (low-level) has been loaded."

Schiller's vision blurred, and suddenly countless noises flooded in, a deluge of unfamiliar emotions crashing into his mind, leaving him unable to discern anything. After a while, Schiller realized he had indeed gained a portion of Professor X's abilities.

Telepathy was Charles's signature skill, and with the aid of the Cerebro amplifier, he could even brainwash all of humanity. However, what Schiller acquired was an extremely weakened version. He could only vaguely sense the emotions of others and some fleeting thoughts that flashed through their minds; direct mind-reading was impossible.

Still, it was enough. Schiller focused his attention on Bruce, noticing that his emotions were currently quite chaotic. Yes, they were far from the nonchalant facade he presented.

Based on Batman's life experiences, he should have just returned from traveling abroad after completing his studies. Attending university was likely merely a disguise for Bruce's identity. The real Batman already harbored an intense hatred for this incredibly dull daily life; every drop of his blood screamed "Revenge," "Revenge against those criminals."

In Bruce's eyes, the professor opposite him suddenly seemed lost in deep thought. Schiller possessed somewhat distinctive gray eyes. When Bruce met those eyes, his sharp intuition began to sound an alarm—he felt as if he were being spied upon, seen through.

Then, Schiller said, "Perhaps you've been waiting for someone to give you this answer, a definitive answer. If getting this answer means you'll have more to do and won't bother me again, then I'm willing to give you that answer."

"Oh? And what is it?"

"Revenge," Schiller said, staring into Bruce's eyes. Beneath Bruce's suddenly darkened expression, he looked him directly in the eye and repeated, "The meaning of life is revenge."

Ignoring Bruce's face, which had turned as grim as the Gotham sky, Schiller asked, "Are you satisfied, Mr. Wayne?"