A disaster took place at Wayne Manor.
The cause was that everyone had eaten their fill and the New Warriors Team and the teenagers from Robin's group decided to test their ttle—in 40-degree weather they headed to the back garden to fight.
Even though it was now nightti, the temperature hadn't subsided due to the intense heat during the day, and opening the door let in a blast of heat wave, but these crazy teenagers didn't care and just had to prove themselves at this ti.
Originally, Shiller didn't mind; they could fight all they wanted, and he could just drive ho, but Helen insisted on dragging him in as a referee. He was also worried that these teenagers would tear down Wayne Manor, leaving the poor old housekeeper holess, so he reluctantly stayed.
Luckily, both groups had so restraint, managing to keep friendship first, the competition second, until the rowdy mbers of the Guardians of the Galaxy arrived.
Star Lord and his group initially ca to ask Shiller about the cooling plans, but these folks always gravitate towards excitent, and just gravitating wasn't enough; they had to experience it firsthand, so seeing the teenagers fighting heatedly, they joined as well.
You really shouldn't underestimate Star Lord and his group. Gamora and Nebula, the two sisters, were trained as assassins by Thanos themselves, so naturally, they were skilled. Rocket Raccoon had fought his way out from an insane asylum in Half-World, rich in practical experience, and Drax was all muscle in his mind, with gladiatorial combat as one of his hobbies.
When these groups collided, it was like dry tinder eting a fierce fla; the back garden of Wayne Manor instantly transford into an interstellar gladiatorial arena, clashing intensely.
The mbers of Robin's group and the New Warriors Team were okay when they fought, occasionally exchanging well-reasoned technical discussions, but once the Guardians of the Galaxy joined, the trash talk began to fly, leaving Shiller feeling dizzy after just a few minutes of listening.
These people were really too noisy.
The weather was already hot, and without air conditioning in the back garden, plus the stillness of the night and a temperature still near 40 degrees coupled with so humidity from a pond, Shiller felt like he was sitting in a stear listening to mosquitoes quarrel; he really couldn't take it anymore.
Shiller escaped from Helen's entanglent and drove ho alone, and before long, the people from the New Warriors Team also ca back and began loudly discussing their strategies and every move of the fight in the living room.
Shiller didn't sleep that early, but he still had papers to grade. Grading papers was already a chore, and with this background noise, it was impossible to stay.
Finally, when morning ca, Shiller was preparing to rest when he heard a thunderous noise outside—Williams's construction team had arrived.
Shiller had miscalculated. The vacation resort Williams planned to build was indeed so distance from Shiller's house and would have been quiet if they had just worked there. However, the problem was that trucks were needed to transport materials, and the noise from the trucks was inevitable.
The weather was already hot, and dozens of large trucks continuously stirred up dust and emitted exhaust fus. When Shiller stepped outside, the air reeked so strongly of gasoline it was almost palpable.
He hadn't said anything yet, and Helen and her group had run out to quarrel with Williams and, inevitably, ended up fighting.
It wasn't that Shiller didn't want to break up the fight, but today's temperature was even more ridiculous. The thermoter showed 43 degrees; the ground temperature was the kind that could cook an egg if you cracked it open. It was weather that already wasn't suitable for humans to be outside.
Shiller chose to leave.
He took a leave of absence from Gotham University, claiming he had suffered heat stroke, swiftly packed his bags, and drove to Arkham Asylum.
Don't get it wrong; he wasn't readmitting himself but rather visiting his old friend Brand.
After moving, Arkham Asylum was situated on a small island to the north of Gotham. The temperature there was slightly cooler than the south, and since the island had not been much developed, the heat island effect was not so severe, making it a rare vacation spot with temperatures maintaining around 35 degrees.
Thanks to Scarecrow and Professor Pig Face deciding to leave for tropolis, Shiller had the chance to vacation here; otherwise, if those two pestered him daily for academic research, he wouldn't have co despite the cooler climate.
With the annoying folks gone, the place naturally beca a paradise for Shiller, and he eagerly parked his car at the front gate of Arkham Sanatorium.
Brand ca out, and Shiller shook hands with him, holding his luggage.
"It's been a long ti, Professor," Brand said. "How is Gotham University's new campus? And the new Dean isn't bad, right?"
Shiller shook his head and sighed, "Don't ask."
The two entered Arkham Asylum together. Since it had been renovated earlier, the place was well-built with a spacious and bright hall, orderly wards, and also a laboratory, activity center, art building, and a large garden, making it seem not at all like the notorious prison, but more like a fully-equipped modern sanatorium.
The patients here were finally not vacationing mob bosses but real psychiatric patients and so wealthy individuals with psychological issues recuperating.
Eventually, the Arkham Asylum of the two cosmoses converged in their paths.
Shiller had just walked inside when another figure approached him; it was Cobblepot, and Shiller stepped forward to shake his hand.
"I knew you would co, Professor, it's just too hot in the city."
"Yes, I had to take leave to co here for a sumr retreat. How is your mother's health? Is she still taking her dication?"
"No, she no longer takes psychiatric drugs, but now she has a problem with her lungs. We haven't done a biopsy yet, but we all suspect what it might be."
Cobblepot seed sowhat sad, but he was no longer the little boy who used to hide in the corners of the house trembling when his mother fell ill. He had not only grown up but had beco, in so respects, one of the city's leading figures.
Shiller sighed softly, Brand instructed him to hand over the luggage to the nurse, who would arrange the rooms, while Shiller followed Cobblepot to see his mother.
Seeing the old woman again, Shiller couldn't help but feel sentintal, she looked much older.
Actually, Shiller had been regularly re-examining Cobblepot's mother during her dication period, so it wasn't as though they hadn't seen each other in years, but for so reason, although it had been less than a year since their last eting, she seed to have aged ten years.
Her ntal condition had indeed improved a lot; seeing Shiller co in, she smiled and nodded in recognition, and Shiller went over to shake her hand. Madam Cobblepot, holding his hand, said, "Thank you, Doctor, I haven't had nightmares for a long ti now."
"You've recovered quite well." This was not just politeness from Shiller, as Cobblepot had indeed taken great care of his mother. Even her genetic ntal illness had not relapsed in a long ti, and now she could truly be considered a sound individual.
"Yes, I feel much better myself," said Madam Cobblepot. "I'm starting to gradually rember things from my youth, when we used to dance and sing around the fireplace, and I often think of his father, back when he was a fine young man..."
Shiller's hand paused, but he didn't show any reaction, only smiled and said, "The past is always nostalgic. The doctor says you need to rest, I won't disturb you further."
Madam Cobblepot stood in the bright and clean hospital room, watching them leave. Shiller had just stepped out of the room and sighed, looking at Cobblepot, saying, "Have you had your mother screened for Alzheir's?"
Cobblepot looked surprised but shook his head. He asked, "Could my mother possibly have Alzheir's?"
"Dwelling excessively on the past and forgetting present events is one symptom of Alzheir's. I can't determine whether her nostalgia is normal or pathological. You had better have it checked."
Cobblepot's face finally showed a tired expression. Shiller just patted him on the shoulder and said, "ntal and physical illnesses sotis interact. Your mother's schizophrenia has made her unable to take care of herself for a long ti, leading to insufficient physical activity, which has also affected certain areas of her brain."
"Her forr living environnt was not good, too cold and damp, possibly also affected by rain, leading to problems with her lung function. Difficulty breathing might also be one of the reasons triggering her ntal illness."
"I advise you to have a biopsy done. Your mother's age still allows for surgery, which might give her a chance to live for another three to five years. You could use this ti to think of other options."
Cobblepot raised his eyes to look at Shiller.
After a slight pause, Shiller said, "I suggest you consult with Lex Luthor, Luther Group has been doing dical experints in this field, and he might have so alternative options on hand."
Shiller spoke quite diplomatically, but Cobblepot clearly understood. The so-called alternative options were not exactly legal. Perfect lung transplants or artificial lungs were possible in the hands of genius scientist Luther.
"I can leave you Constantine's number, perhaps magic could help," Shiller continued.
This was more straightforward. The souls of Gothamites are relatively valuable. If Madam Cobblepot made a deal with a demon, she could certainly prolong her life.
"The worst case scenario is to go to Victor," Shiller said. "Their cryonic technology has made significant progress, and it almost doesn't produce side effects now."
This was also quite clear. Originally, Nora was cryogenically preserved due to a neurodegenerative disease and is currently living well. If Cobblepot wished, he could have his mother preserved until a cure for lung cancer was found.
"Or there is one more possibility, but it will be a bit more troubleso," Shiller said. "I know of another cosmos where there is a country called Wakanda; they have already solved cancer, only it involves using their local herbs and tal radiation. If nothing else works, you might just have to try going through a teleportation portal."
"Thank you, Professor," Cobblepot said. "If it's just lung cancer, I think I'll try it, but Alzheir's..."
Shiller had nothing more to say. In the superhero universe, cancer was actually easier to treat than many ntal illnesses. The difficulty with Madam Cobblepot was her genetic schizophrenia. The pain from chemotherapy and radiation therapy, undergoing dical experints, or even the discomfort from going through a teleportation portal could all potentially trigger her disease.
If Alzheir's also severely impaired her ability to take care of herself, even if her body was cured, she would gradually forget everything, beco bedridden, and wither away.
Birth, aging, sickness, and death are natural human conditions. Often, people's acceptance cos not from an ability to endure but from a lack of choice. Even in such a universe, such things are always happening, and there is no other option but to accept it.
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