"Regardless of what you all may think, I believe that I must take responsibility for my friend's abnormal living conditions, perhaps due to my negligence in caring for him and not providing the help he needed, or providing it too late," he said.
"And when such a thing has already occurred, I must do everything possible to improve his situation, to make up for my deficits towards him."
With his hands on his waist, Clark glanced at Bruce and then at Shiller, "Bruce is my best friend, and Shiller is my respected ntor."
"I'm sorry, but they both are ntally ill, and based on my rudintary dical knowledge, the most pressing matter now is to separate them, providing them with a quiet, warm, and comfortable convalescent environnt."
"This city rarely sees sunlight and is very damp, and the rain is very bizarre. It is the complete opposite of a recovery environnt for ntally ill patients, yet we friends let them live here for four years. Ignoring their needs and our lack of care and attention is the real culprit behind the progression of their illnesses!"
"So, we should arrange for them to be in a bright, warm, and comfortable environnt. Only after they are ntally capable of taking care of themselves should we stop caring for them... Does anyone object?"
As Clark was delivering these words, his voice was shaking, clearly he was enraged to the extre. Enraged Clark had no idea how powerful he was, which silenced the lively ghouls and demons in front of him.
"Alright, then it's decided! I think that my old farm in Kansas is a pretty good environnt, so I will take one of them with . Now, you two decide who will co with !"
Lying in bed, Bruce, in a faint voice said, "I have a plan, we can...."
"No plans!" Clark imdiately interrupted him.
Shiller also in a faint voice said, "What, how about we bet? Let's bet...."
"No betting allowed!" Clark interfered again.
"Your chaotic, ntally ill minds, full of illusions, are not suitable for making any plans, and you shouldn't bet with anyone... Now, imdiately, at once, rock-paper-scissors!"
In the end, it was Bruce who volunteered to leave with Clark. Not because he lost at rock-paper-scissors, but because he couldn't lift his arm, while Shiller could.
That being said, even if Batman dies, is buried, and the grass on his grave has grown long, he must cry out from the deep ground "anyone can beat him, just not the Joker!"
In a certain sense, this might be the will of the cosmos, leaving one helpless.
Lucifer planned to take Shiller to the West Coast. The business at the bar hasn't been good lately, and he had been considering changing the city for quite so ti.
After everyone left, Lucifer stood at the end of the hallway in Wayne Manor and saw Clark approaching. He began to speak, "They are truly lucky to have a friend like you."
"No, being able to help my friends is my luck. It allows them to know that I love them. Making other people feel my love makes genuinely happy."
Lowering his head seemingly in deep thought, Lucifer spoke after a while, "Once, I too had a friend like that, but my arrogance ruined everything."
"You could apologize to him," said Clark directly.
"He's gone."
"Then you should go find him."
"He's dead."
"Then you should apologize to his tombstone."
Lucifer stared at Clark, not knowing how to comnt. The straightforwardness of the young man in front of him was both baffling and a bit childish. Perhaps it was his naivety that made his words so magically attractive.
Later in the night, in the hall of Rodrigues Manor, rkel asked with concern, "Are you sure I don't need to co with you? Professor Shearer's self-care ability is a little..."
Lucifer shook his head, looking at the belongings that had been neatly packed. Turning around, he walked upstairs, murmuring as he climbed, "It will be his last night in the Manor, I'll see if he sleeps well."
Upon entering the room, Shiller had already fallen asleep. Life in jail wasn't easy; the scenes of Bruce splattering blood reminded him of so mories he thought were long gone.
The massive white angel wings spread out and lowered, blocking the disturbing light seeping in through the curtain gap, which allowed Shiller's frown to gradually relax. The nightmares were gone, and Shiller finally fell into a deep sleep.
The sound of raindrops and thunder accompanied the captured voice saying "I'm sorry", which sounded like a sigh of regret, or a mournful scream.
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