Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 2156 - 1456: The Bird and The Return (Part 1)1

The elevator doors of Shiller's Tower of Thought opened, and Arrogant slowly walked out. He adjusted his cufflinks and headed towards his room. As he began to tidy his desk, he heard a knock on the door in a familiar rhythm.

"Co in."

Greed cracked open the door, but didn't step inside. He left a box on the cabinet beside the door and gestured to Arrogant. "Your friend was looking for you two hours ago. You weren't here. This is his gift. I delivered it. Goodbye."

After saying these words, he closed the door. Arrogant furrowed his brow. He tidied his desk before retrieving the box and bringing it to the couch.

A matte bat symbol was imprinted on the black exterior of the box, the emblem of the Batman of the Pri Universe. Shiller opened the lid to find a book wrapped in deep blue paper.

Shiller opened it to find the book's title written in script English—a "Collection of Flying Birds."

Shiller's thumb gently stroked the embossed gilding. Upon opening the book, he discovered a letter tucked between the first and second pages.

Instead of opening the letter, Shiller first read the part obscured by the envelope. It was a poem about birds.

"Sumr birds, singing at my window, then flying away.

Autumn leaves, with nothing to sing, they sigh and fall."

Shiller traced the simple words with his fingertip. For the man behind Batman, it seed far too simplistic and light.

Shiller had never imagined that the "Collection of Flying Birds" would be on Batman's reading list. The bright poetry collection seed out of place, even on the shelves of Wayne Manor.

With the book and envelope in hand, Shiller returned to his desk. After turning on the desk lamp, he took an envelope opener and broke the thin wax seal. The Bat symbol was also imprinted on the paper inside.

"Greeting, Dr. Rodriguez. Has winter passed in your world? I write to you from the frosty banks of the Gotham River, conveying thoughts as cold and clear as the morning fog in this solemn winter.

The half-equation I gave you is the result of my joint research with a friend from another world. The chance eting that led us to this point cos from you, hence it's your due.

However, lately I've uncovered the formidable power this equation holds. I must therefore implore you to guard it well, though I know no place is safer than your own mind.

Unfortunately, my universe is not so peaceful, a powerful rival and overlord in the universe has sensed the equation's power. He has taken notice of Earth, of , and I'm taking asures against him.

If you have any information or intelligence regarding the na 'Darkseid,' please elaborate in your reply. I know you have so, hence I've sent you a book as a token of gratitude. I hope you like it.

And another piece of bad news, in my universe, after the reversal of ti, the Joker continues to lurk in the shadows, aiming to strike his formidable rival down from mid-air. But this ti, he's set his sights on the Bat-nest.

My four Robins and Batgirl are all under his cruel and nacing gaze. Due to the powerful enemy in the universe, I'm unable to handle this situation as my priority is to prevent Darkseid from acquiring the equation.

I must reluctantly request that during the ti when I'm engrossed in the universe, I can send the birds to your universe so I can focus without worry.

To the Doctor.

Shiller read the letter carefully. Batman's wording was concise yet full of literary beauty.

In his several communications with the Batman of the Primary Universe, Shiller had noticed that he was not a dry and rigid character.

On the contrary, the Batman of the Pri Universe, Bruce Wayne, had a taste for the arts. He was far from the stereotypical man of few words who kept quiet in the na of efficiency.

Indeed, it might be more appropriate to call it a sense of atmosphere. The truth was, Batman's words were lively and robust, one might even say compelling. His descriptions of the life in Bat-nest were even humorously ironic, akin to Mark Twain's style.

Shiller finished reading the letter and ntally drafted his refusal. Not that he didn't want to deal with the Batman family. Even if the Robins were more botherso, they couldn't be more troubleso than Batman himself. Having already brought Batman to graduation, Shiller didn't think handling a few Robins would be much more burdenso.

However, in Shiller's plans, he intended to restore his social circle in the near future, moving between the new and old worlds to attend social activities. He was heading to Washington for a sociology conference, followed by his forr professor's birthday reception in Montreal. He then had to hurry to London for a private party held by an old friend, and finally, he might visit the Godfather in Sicily Island after shuttling between Bordeaux and Paris. With all of these obligations, he simply didn't have ti to babysit.

But just then, Shiller noticed a few extra lines beneath the closing remarks. The words were hastily scribbled, indicating that Batman had added them in a rush. The note read:

"Doctor, there are million reasons for you to pull this City of Darkness out of the abyss, but when it plumts back with the force of a great weight, there's only one reason not to let go. That reason is to let your child bask in the sunlight, as I wish to do.

I hope you gain a father's sincerity when the ice on the Gotham River begins to lt in your sunlight.

Batman, on a winter's day."

Shiller studied every word carefully. When confronted with a living person, the complexity of their character is often revealed. This complexity, imbued with the vitality of life, helps to paint a complete picture.

It seed that Batman was always cautious, yet, this caution did not lead to cowardice or hesitation, nor did it lead to self-doubt. Or rather, people often noticed his caution but ignored the daring, and at tis, reckless confidence he had in his judgent.

Clearly, Batman believed that, based on the last paragraph alone, Shiller would accept his request and take good care of his Robins. This belief was born out of his understanding and analysis of Shiller's character and behavioral patterns.

He was right in his analysis, Shiller thought, and his words successfully moved him, so he deleted the refusal he had already prepared in his mind.

But Shiller had no intention of changing his social plans. It now conflicted with his social norm to decline an already scheduled party, but it was okay, as the birds from the Pri Universe didn't recognize who he was. They would only seek Batman.

So, Shiller sat down by his desk and began to pen a reply to Batman.

"I have received your letter and gifts. My thoughts are as follows:

Winter here is almost over. Even though Rodrix Manor is not near the Gotham River, children passing by my ho, carrying their ice skates, returned ho disillusioned. I reckon, the ice must've lted.

The equation is safe. The information about Darkseid is enough to be compiled into a book. I will send it to you along with this letter, but please discriminate carefully, as the situations in our two universes are different.

The Joker is a threat to any mber of the Batman Family. I understand your desire to protect their safety, but I regret to inform you-

In the coming period, I am quite busy. So if you expect to provide psychological counselling for them, I am afraid you are bound to be disappointed.

But if you just hope for them to take refuge here, then you can ask Mr. Allen to send them directly to Wayne Manor. The Batman of this Universe will take good care of them.

The news you brought may not be bad, but I would like to share so recent, great news— Batman had achieved quite impressive results in a recent exam..."

As Shiller was working hard at his desk in his Tower of Thought, Dick, Jason, and Tim were walking shoulder-to-shoulder beside the Gotham River under the setting sun.

"I've told you, sunny days aren't necessarily good," Jason muttered, carrying a pair of ice skates, looking sowhat disappointed.

There were quite a few children, like them, returning ho disappointed. Their shoes left wet footprints in the cracks between bricks, leaving intermittent trails in the sunset.

"Let's go eat," Tim, who was rugged up in a thick scarf, exhaled a puff of white mist, appearing slightly cold. He snuffled and added: "I bet Alfred has already ward up the vegetable soup and black rice buns over the fireplace. I will spread a whole knife's worth of cheese on mine."

Dick also swallowed hard. He put both his hands into his pocket, counted the cracks between the bricks and said, "After dinner, I have ballet class to attend and then I need to write my French howork..."

"Why must learning ballet include learning French?" Jason furrowed his brows, kicking an embedded stone on the ground.

Tim humd coldly and said, "Because ballet originated in France, much of the professional terminology is in French. Also, Dick's ballet teacher, Sylvia, is French."

"What a burden," Jason lanted, shifting his skates to the other hand and adding, "there wouldn't be any problems if Thomas didn't co along. Now I have to play football with those rich kids during the weekends. I'm really afraid they might trip over and cry in their mothers' arms."

Tim broke into a silly chuckle and shrug and said, "Thank goodness my dad had learn everything I needed to learn."

"Don't forget you also need to feed the ponies," Dick quickly chid in. "Thomas really went overboard. We have a whole equestrian center now."

"Yeah, without such a large space, those terrified horses would probably headbutt the walls until they died," Jason humorously exaggerated.

All of them began to crack up, clearly reminiscing about the chaos that had taken place when they brought Aisha to the riding club the previous weekend.

"Has Bruce taken Aisha to see her school yet?" Jason asked.

"Otherwise what would he be busy with?" Dick prodded.

"So where does he plan on sending Aisha for primary school?" Tim questioned further.

"Thomas certainly wants Aisha to go to the Poletaş Girls' School; he will say that Martha was a graduate from there, and all the teachers at Poletaş have high clergy titles, such as nuns." Dick mused.

"Wouldn't it just be easier for Bruce to donate money for them to construct another Jesus statue, one that would be harder than the children's slide? Otherwise, no matter how many nuns they have, they will not be able to ease the wrath of God," Jason suggested ironically.

They burst into laughter again, strolling along the streets of the wealthy area by the Gotham riverside and returning to Wayne Manor, which was not far from there. There, warm soup was waiting for them in the fireplace. True to his words, Tim slathered a whole knife's worth of cheese on his black rice bun.

When all three boys were sweaty, despite only wearing shirts, they started discussing how much money Bruce would need to spend to appease God's wrath by replacing a Jesus statue at Aisha's future elentary school every week.

After a while, Dick left for his ballet class. An exhausting three-hour ballet class drained him of his energy. Exhausted, he fell asleep in the car. By the ti the chauffeur woke him up, the warm light emanating from Wayne Manor appeared at the end of the dark road.

Yawning, Dick got out of the vehicle, lazily picked up his dancing equipnt from the other seat, and strolled back into the hall.

Then, he saw Bruce holding Aisha, talking to a few strangers in the living room.

One wore a blue-purple uniform, another wore a red hood, one wore a green-red uniform, a young boy, and a young lady wearing a hood with two pointed ears.

They seed to be arguing, their conversation exuding so noise. Jason and Tim were nowhere to be found; they probably hadn't returned yet, possibly because they went to a classmate's house to do howork together.

As soon as Dick stepped in, everyone's attention shifted to him.