After Bruce completed his graduate studies, he had basically given up researching the psychoanalytic school, admitting that he truly wasn't cut out for it. Studying psychoanalysis was worse than simply studying Schiller.
But that did not stop a sliver of hope from remaining in his heart. Or rather, after his condition improved greatly, he developed the kind of fantasy ordinary people all had: If I possessed this talent, could I become a master too?
Ordinary people must have all thought about it. If I had Mozart's musical talent, perhaps I could become a contemporary master composer. If I were a Da Vinci-like polymathic genius, my name might be recorded in art history as well.
It could not be denied that talent was indeed important. Not only in the arts, but in mathematics and physics as well—perhaps especially in such fields. The results someone achieved through painstaking research might not compare to a formula another person casually scribbled down.
Yet gifted geniuses were ultimately few in this world. Thus, when ordinary people without talent encountered difficulties, they could not help imagining the possibility that they themselves might possess extraordinary gifts.
In theory, such fantasies should never have appeared in Batman. Aside from the fact that Batman himself was a typical genius, he also lacked any tendency toward idle fantasy. He would never assume an absolutely impossible situation and then imagine using it to solve his predicament. Otherwise, he would have died hundreds of times over already.
But Bruce was different. As his mental condition improved, the abnormal empathy rooted in his illness gradually weakened as well, causing him to lose his talent for psychoanalysis.
At the same time, he began to grow more and more like a normal person. When he encountered difficulties, he would avoid them. Sometimes, he liked letting