"Is that what you think, Professor?" Pamela asked in an inscrutable tone. Then she said, "Is that how you truly feel, or is it some exemplary application of psychology?"
"Perhaps it was both. Usually, when most people experience a certain feeling, they don't pay much attention to it. They won't remember it, nor are they good at expressing it. Psychology simply gave me more of those abilities than they have. Even so, it can't be considered deception."
"A processed sincere statement."
"Precisely, Miss."
Schiller leaned forward, moved the kettle on the bedside table farther away, and handed Pamela the cup filled with warm water. He smoothed the hem of his suit before sitting back down.
"Considering that keeping warm is your top priority right now, I won't open the door. But I will turn on the recorder used for psychological consultations, so there will be a record of our conversation."
Pamela neither agreed nor disagreed. She was usually like that. After briefly reflecting just now, Schiller realized that he had hardly ever seen any other expression on Pamela's face. Most of the time, she was flat, pale, and straightforward as a sheet of paper.
She could even use that cold expression to completely conceal every bit of charm brought by her beautiful features and her blazing red hair. She did not lean toward any gender; merely meeting her gaze made people feel her dryness and tedium.
Although Schiller did not particularly like to broadly impose the images of certain comic characters onto the living people he encountered, Pamela differed rather greatly from Poison Ivy.
Although Poison Ivy in the comics was not known for her social charm either, Batman had once commented on her beauty and seductive allure. That proved that she was, at the very least, vivid and lively.