"Mr. Wayne, I hope you understand that, generally speaking, psychotherapy is a highly private matter. Neither patient nor Doctor wants a third party present. With an irrelevant person listening in, no one will sincerely reveal their secrets... You are interfering with my work."
Bruce watched Schiller turn around and stare at him. He realized this Schiller was better at explaining than the Professor he knew. If it had been the previous Professor, all he would have gotten now was a "Get lost."
What was chilling was that, faced with this explanation, his brain provided him with a sense of security, while his instincts told him this was not a good thing.
Being ignored was always infuriating, yet being watched so intently and patiently reasoned with by a Professor like this somehow felt even more terrifying.
Because he regarded you as one of his own, and the way he hoped to preserve his friendship with you was through a more complete merging into one.
"It's all right." Professor Pigface spoke at that moment. He took the initiative to walk toward the sofa area in front of the glass partition wall and sat down in the armchair to the left of the coffee table.
Bruce felt his heart skip a beat, because that was actually Schiller's seat. Every visitor could only sit on the large sofa to the right.
Before Schiller turned away, he glanced at Bruce once more, but said nothing. He simply turned and walked toward the sofa area as well.
Bruce finally let out a breath. As he took his hand off the door, a small head poked in. Harley gritted her teeth and said to Bruce, "Rich boy, are you crazy? How much longer are you going to hog Professor Schiller?"
Bruce looked around, reached out and yanked