Gotham City, a morning that was neither sunny nor warm, Gotham University students ushered in their psychology final exams.

When Evans sent the papers down, there was a silence of howling in the classroom. Then, outside the door, the sound of leather shoes heels stepping on the marble floor, and in an instant, the classroom became silent.

While packing up the umbrella in his hand, Schiller walked into the classroom and saw everyone writing hard, and nodded with satisfaction.

Then he put the umbrella on the ground, put his hand on the umbrella handle, and stood in the center of the classroom and said: "The time for this exam is 1 hour and 40 minutes. In theory, you can hand in the papers in advance, but I am bored in invigilating the exam here. I will definitely review the papers you handed in advance."

"At least, you have to make sure that what you wrote is enough for me to read until you walk out of the classroom door."

"In addition, although I did not let you sit separately, it is best not to whisper. Please write neatly on the covers and not to use flowers. The most important thing is, please write your name clearly. I mean the legal name. Don't let me repeatedly emphasize not to write nicknames like the week after school."

"Okay, let's start answering the paper."

Then the whole classroom became completely quiet, leaving only the rustling sound of the pen tip slashing on the roll surface.

There has never been any classroom at Gotham University, and it has such a strong learning atmosphere. Bruce looked up during the break of writing. Sitting in front of his right was the nephew of the East Side Hyena. This guy smoked, drunk and fought and fought in his early teens. He was a pure bad boy.

But at this time he was sitting in his seat. Ten minutes passed and he was still writing hard, or his brain filled with alcohol and tobacco could still support him to continue writing.

Sitting on the left of Bruce is a very famous graffiti boy from Gotham University. He is good at spraying and often messes up the walls everywhere. Even when Shayton was implementing the campus prohibition, he even sprayed the big-headed graffiti that spoofed him onto the walls of the principal's office corridor.

He was about to get a little bit short of writing the first essay question at this moment, and he was drawing various patterns on the surface of the paper.

Bruce glanced with good eyesight and found that he was painting Schiller, but unlike those spoof graffiti, Schiller under his brush was facing a black sun, his hands were spreading, and some particle-like patterns were surrounding him. The whole picture looked weird but handsome. I just didn't know if Schiller would like to add two more points to him under his careful creation.

Half an hour later, more than two-thirds of people were writing, which was simply a miracle of Gotham University.

In the past, during the final exam, there were first of all, there would be a few thorns that were directly absent. The seats would definitely be unsatisfied. After the exam was started for two minutes, someone wrote his name and stood up and left.

After 10 minutes of the exam, many people will finish the simple and easy-to-write multiple-choice questions, throw them away and hand them in advance, and leave directly.

In the past, after 20 minutes, there were only a few people left in the classroom. Even those who stayed were not writing those essay questions. They just did not make arrangements afterwards and just went to bed while the classroom was quiet.

But now, Bruce looked up at his watch and found that it had been 40 minutes, and half of the people were writing.

No one dared to hand in the paper in advance. Even though most of them had racked their brains and wandered on the verge of being unable to do so, most of them were still biting their pens and sitting in their seats, hoping that their small-capacity brain would squeeze out a few more words to write them on the paper, trying to make the professor less angry when he saw their answers between illiterate and semi-illiterate.

In fact, even introductory teaching materials for psychology, it is difficult to deal with various proper nouns, names, theories, and definitions.

Not to mention these Gotham University students who are used to being ignorant of learning. Even students from prestigious American universities must preview them before giving special lectures, otherwise they will easily fall into a dilemma of a blank mind.

Recitation is a difficult task for these students whose brains have not been revolving for a long time, not to mention that they recite it suddenly within a week or two.

By an hour, most people had stopped writing. Bruce wrote down the list of those who were still working hard on the draft paper. This would be the backbone of the psychological community he formed in the future.

He thought about it and wrote the name of the graffiti boy. After all, the club always needs to have a promotional artist.

After waiting for 1 hour and 40 minutes, when the "collection" that the professor sitting in front of him slammed heavily on the floor, exhaling sounds in the classroom, obviously they were almost crazy.

After the paper was collected, no one dared to leave. Until Schiller nailed the papers, checked the number of copies, checked the name, and then left the classroom with a stack of test papers, the classroom was like a bomb that suddenly exploded, and exploded with a "boom".

"Oh no! I don't know much about fill-in-the-blank questions. Now it's over!"

"Damn it, I memorized the definition of psychology last night! But I didn't take the exam?? I wouldn't have been delayed so much time before I knew it!"

"I wrote the answer to the second essay question on the fourth essay. Oh my God, what should I do? I will definitely not get a single point in the essay question!"

"Who did you write for graduate school application? Evans, did you write? Yesterday my dad told me that if I could study for graduate school with my brain, it would be better to expect our dog to climb trees! But my dog ​​is a Corgi..."

"I still owe two papers to the public. I have to complete them before the holiday, otherwise I will be worried about this holiday, so don't think about having fun..."

Several people gathered at Bruce's table. They were the first members of the club invited by Bruce. Rainie, a graffiti boy with a fluorescent yellow forehead guard, said: "The professor will like my paintings. I can see that he is an artistic person."

"But he might prefer to see your correct answer," Bruce said.

"Actually, I know nothing, and memorizing will pollute my brain." Renee touched his nose. He was a typical Germanic species with green eyes and a little freckles, wearing reggae-style clothes.

"And who said that it was not the correct answer? Whoever said that you must write when answering questions? The same goes for drawing, I will pass the exam!"

"Okay, I'll pay you to draw a poster for me. It's bigger and stronger. It's used to promote this club. You can open the price at will, but I hope it's shocking enough." Bruce said.

Rennie snapped her fingers and said, "Big guy, you're looking for the right person! No one in Gotham knows how to shock people better than me!"

Several people gathered their heads together and muttered.

"What? You mean you want..."

"You are such a genius..."

"Add me one, I'm going to come too!"

"This is a big surprise...yes, I think it's OK..."

"Maybe he will pass the exam for this..."

A few days later, Schiller was accumulating anger while preparing the papers. Although he had already expected the level of Gotham University's ignorant students, he still did not expect that they would be able to get this terrible exam.

Because he did not want to continue to pollute his brain by these academic waste, Schiller planned to work overtime today, sort out all the papers in one go, and then give most of them a failed one.

Suddenly, he heard a sharp chirping from outside the window of the office building, a bit like a fire siren, but shorter and sharper than that.

Schiller stood up and looked out the window and found some lights shaking. It was just dark and it was far from when the street lights were on. Most of the teachers and students had not left school yet.

He heard a noise from the bottom of the building, as if someone was calling his last name. Schiller put down his pen and left his desk and walked to the window.

The entire side of the opposite building was wrapped in huge curtains. Schiller had heard people say that it was undergoing wall reconstruction and he didn't walk along that road often, so he didn't care much about it.

But as soon as he walked to the window, the curtain on the opposite wall fell down instantly. There seemed to be a huge graffiti on it, as high as 7 floors. A row of spotlights below suddenly lit up, illuminating the side of the entire building as bright as during the day.

It was indeed a huge graffiti, with Schiller's back at the bottom, and above it was a black sun full of countless strange patterns. The sun was surrounded by several circles of flames composed of golden patterns, and Schiller's figure stood in front of the black sun.

Schiller's figure was almost integrated into the background of the black sun, or this huge sun was like his shadow.

Schiller stood in front of the window. He was shaken by the high-power spotlights first. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw such a picture.

Schiller: "…"

Symbiosis: “…Wow.”

The whole graffiti reads: "Join the psychology community, face the people's hearts, face the black sun. - Blue Ghost Rayney"

Schiller lowered his head and saw a group of people standing at the bottom of the building, waving at him excitedly. They were most of the psychology students at Gotham University, including Bruce Wayne.

Schiller looked up again and looked at the black sun composed of countless strange patterns. It was full of a bizarre and horrifying aesthetic, which made people unable to move their eyes when they saw it, as if their soul was about to be sucked in.

Horror, weird, bizarre, absurd, but full of beauty that makes people fall into it and cannot extricate themselves.

When Schiller recalled, "Gotham" originally meant "Fool's Village", which is indeed full of all kinds of absurd fools, who knows where to live and where to die.

But in the same way, it is full of all kinds of geniuses, with unparalleled talents and fascinating vitality.

Schiller was indeed a little fascinated. This bold and strange absurd action was filled with special vitality that was not anywhere in the world, like a terrifying vine climbed from the bottomless abyss, and also like a top artwork that was comparable to countless masters.

Schillerbean students will have more, but he just realized that he hasn't learned one thing yet-

He is indeed not yet able to learn Gotham.

Everyone living here is crazy, but at the same time sober.

This dark city does not need anyone to correct it. They live so crazily in the abyss, living a twisted and weird vitality.

This vitality grows out of the darkness, and the people here use madness as their blade, pointing directly to anyone's heart so accurately.

Schiller stared straight at the black sun, thinking, perhaps, the people here are incomparable geniuses, the only fool is himself, and everyone who tries to act as a savior outside the comics.

The people here have seen through their professors like mind reading with their brains that do not have any knowledge of psychology theory.

The black sun is also the sun, which is the most accurate profile of Schiller.

Schiller's incarnation was not a scorching sun, but a sun that was not bright and had no heat, a black sun.

A few minutes later, Schiller wrote a line of words on the misty glass with his fingers - "You have passed the exam."
Chapter completed!