Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

"...The most important thing is to have empathy for the patient. They are normal people just like us. It's just a little different, I'm against calling them crazy, they're just sick. And we It's a doctor."

On the podium, the teacher is talking eloquently.

He Shenyan appeared in a classroom. He looked around and saw that the seats were full and full of people. But all but one girl's faces were blurred.

The blond girl sat in the corner of the classroom. She was wearing a wide, ill-fitting dress. She was all black. Even the blond hair was tucked into her hat. As if she wanted to disappear from this world, she tried her best not to attract any attention.

She is writing notes.

The speed was very fast, and every word the teacher said was memorized by her.

The screen changes again.

After graduating, she walked out of school with her belongings, standing on the street very lost. Staying at home, a phone call changed her life. It was an employment notice from the school. Her grades were too good, so she was recommended to the Arkham Asylum for an internship. The salary is high, and for her, there is no other option.

So Harlene Quetzel, who had completed her doctorate at the age of twenty-two, entered Arkham Asylum as a psychiatrist.

When He Shenyan saw her walking through the dark corridors of Arkham wearing a white coat, the prisoners in the cells would deliberately whistle and even say some obscene and disgusting words when they saw her passing by. Not only did the guards not stop them, but they also cast that disgusting look at Harleen with them.

She had to hold the information in her arms tightly and walked faster and faster until she reached the innermost end of the corridor and pushed open the door. A green-haired, pale-skinned man sat in the darkness, staring at her.

At first glance, it made her heart pound.

His pupil is just a small dot, and there is nothing in it, just nothingness. He sat there calmly, even though Harleen had pulled up the chair and sat across from him. Harleen couldn't figure out what he was thinking. The so-called psychological techniques were useless. It could only be seen from his expression that he was thinking about something now.

He was clearly looking at Harleen, but the girl had an intuition that he wasn't looking at herself, but something else—something dangerous, deadly, yet attractive.

"Hello... uh, I'm your primary doctor, Harleen Quetzel. Joker... sir? Are you listening?" Harlene asked nervously, swallowing.

The man nodded expressionlessly.

"OK,

I'm going to ask you a few questions that you can choose to answer. Let me know right away if you feel sick, okay? "She tried to tell him those things according to the rules and regulations. The man suddenly smiled.

His face was terrifying, and it was only then that Harlem realized that he was pale without makeup. It was as if it was born like this, the pale color seemed to absorb all the light around him, he wiped a handful of his green hair and laughed.

"Discomfort? What is discomfort, doctor, I don't understand what you mean." He asked politely, his voice not as crazy as Harleen thought, but a choice between grace and screaming , which sounds both like the clamor of dying people and like some poet whispering in your ear.

"If my question makes you feel...offended, or if you don't want to answer, you can tell me." She put it another way, which made the man laugh even more.

"You're such a funny girl, aren't you? Doctor, look, I'm the most dangerous criminal here. And you came up to me and told you if I was offended! Ha!" he exclaimed A sharp laugh.

"The bat that locked me in wanted to beat me to death. It took me four months to recover from the hospital bed. Look!" He pointed to his right cheek, where there was a dent.

He said, "This is a gift from him, what a nice guy, isn't it? I got punched and lost three teeth. What a strong man, ah ha ha ha ha..." He clutched face, and smiled lowly again.

For some reason, Harleen followed him and laughed.

The man suddenly put down his hand, the smile disappeared, and he became expressionless again: "Let's start, doctor."

Harleen was a little uncomfortable with how quickly he changed, but she still forced herself to adapt to being a doctor. "Have you recently felt a strong desire to hurt others?" she asked.

The man stared straight at her: "Which one do you mean?"

Without waiting for Harleen to answer, he continued to speak to himself: "Doctor, I want to hurt others every day, every moment, every second, even if I'm talking to you now... But the question is, how do you define which?"

"Look, there are many ways to hurt others. For example, if I want to hurt the police officer at the door, I will send a message to my lads outside. Let them tie up his family, and then tie him up. Then he His family killed him in front of him. But what's the fun in doing that?"

Undeterred by the horrific sight he described, Harlene asked calmly, "Fun? Do you mean you get pleasure from hurting people?"

The man said patiently: "No no no, my good doctor. You misunderstood me, Uncle Clown is not that shallow. What's the point of hurting others? It's the world that hurts! Yes, I can do it a hundred times. A horrific and horrific case, I can keep a cloud over Gotham forever, but that's not my end..."

He raised his right hand and held up two fingers: "People usually think that there are two forms of injury. Physical, mental."

"But I think there's a third form." He held up a third finger.

"Physically hurt, you'll bleed, you'll break bones. You'll be in pain all the time. Mentally hurt, and you'll be slumped and drugged through every bad night. But there's a third form beyond that. ..”

He pointed to his face and laughed wildly: "Look at me! Doctor! Look at me, I'm the third form!"

"I'm bleeding and hurting all the time. But I'm also mentally battered all the time! Double the joy, doctor, that's the third form. There's a limit to how much a human being can endure! But—I !"

His smile disappeared abruptly, and his face became expressionless again: "I can release them."