American Comics: Opening Guidance Batman

On a neither sunny nor warm morning in Gotham City, Gotham University students take their psychology final exams.

When Evans handed out the papers, there was screaming and howling in the classroom, and then, outside the door, the sound of leather shoes stepping on the marble floor sounded, and in an instant, the classroom became silent.

While packing up the umbrella in his hand, Schiller walked into the classroom. Seeing that everyone was working hard, he nodded with satisfaction.

Then he put his umbrella on the ground, put his hand on the handle of the umbrella, stood in the center of the classroom and said, "This exam will take 1 hour and 40 minutes. In theory, you can hand in the papers in advance, but I am very invigilated here. Boring, I will definitely mark the papers you handed in in advance."

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

"Also, although I didn't ask you to sit apart, it's best not to talk to each other, please write neatly on the scroll, and no squiggles are allowed. The most important thing is, please write your name clearly, I mean the legal name, don't Let me repeat the same emphasis on not writing nicknames as I did during the first week of school."

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

Then the entire classroom fell silent, except for the rustling of the pen tip on the scroll surface.

Gotham University has never had a classroom with such a strong learning atmosphere. Bruce looked up when he was writing, and sitting in front of him on the right was the nephew of the Eastside Hyena. This guy was smoking and drinking in his early ten years. Fights and fights, is a pure bad boy.

But at this time he was sitting in his seat, and 10 minutes later, he was still buried in writing, or his brain full of alcohol and tobacco was still able to support him to write.

Sitting on Bruce's left is a famous graffiti boy from Gotham University. He is good at spray painting. He often messes up the walls everywhere. Even when Seldon enforced the campus alcohol ban, he even sprayed his big head graffiti into the president's office. on the walls of the hallway.

He was almost on the verge of not being able to write the first essay question at this meeting, and he was drawing various patterns on the scroll.

Bruce glanced with his good eyesight and found that he was painting Schiller, but different from those spoof graffiti, Schiller under his brush, with his back facing a black sun, his hands open, some particle-like The pattern is surrounding him, and the whole picture looks weird but handsome, but I don't know if Schiller is willing to see his meticulous creation and give him two extra points.

After half an hour, more than two-thirds of the people were still writing, which is simply a miracle of Gotham University.

In the past, during the final exam, first of all, there would be a few thorns who were directly absent, and the seats would definitely be full. Two minutes after the exam started, someone had finished writing their names, stood up and left.

10 minutes after the start of the test, many people will have finished the simple and easy-to-write multiple-choice questions, put down the pen and hand in the paper in advance, and leave directly.

In the past, after 20 minutes, there were only a few people left in the entire classroom. Even if they stayed, they weren't to write those essay questions. It was just that they didn't make arrangements after that, and they just took advantage of the quietness of the classroom to sleep.

But now, Bruce looked up at his watch, 40 minutes had passed, and half of the people were still writing.

No one dared to submit the papers in advance. Even though most of them had already racked their brains and were on the verge of being incapacitated, most of them were still biting their pens and sitting in their seats, hoping that their small brains would be able to squeeze out more. A few words to write them on the paper, trying to make the professor less angry when he sees their answer somewhere between illiterate and semi-literate.

In fact, even the introductory textbooks of psychology, the proper nouns, names, theories, and definitions involved are difficult.

Not to mention this bunch of ignorant Gotham University students, even those students from famous American universities, must preview before giving lectures, otherwise they will easily fall into the dilemma of a blank brain.

Reciting, for these students whose brains have been inactive for a long time, is a difficult task in itself, let alone a surprise recitation within a week or two.

After an hour passed, most of the people had stopped writing, and Bruce wrote down the list of those who were still working **** the scratch paper, which would be the backbone of the psychology society he formed in the future.

After thinking for a while, he still wrote the name of the graffiti boy. After all, the club always has a publicity artist.

After waiting for 1 hour and 40 minutes, when the "winding up" spit out from the mouth of the professor sitting in front slammed heavily on the floor, there was a sound of exhalation one after another in the classroom, obviously they were going crazy.

After the papers were collected, no one dared to leave, until Schiller nailed the papers, checked the number of copies, checked the names, and left the classroom with a stack of papers, the classroom was like a bomb that suddenly exploded,” Boom" exploded.

"Oops! I can't fill in most of the blank questions, and it's over!"

"Damn, I stepped up to memorize the definition of psychology last night! But I didn't take the test?? If I knew earlier, I shouldn't have wasted so much time ahead!"

"I wrote the answer to the second essay question on the fourth question, my God, what can I do? I definitely won't get a single point for the essay question!"

"Which one of you wrote the graduate application? Evans, have you written it? Yesterday my dad told me that if my brain can go to graduate school, I might as well expect our dog to climb trees! But my dog ​​is a corgi..."

"I still owe two papers that I haven't handed in. I have to complete them before the holiday, otherwise I will definitely be nervous this holiday, don't think about having fun..."

A few people gathered in front of Bruce's desk. They were the first group members invited by Bruce. Rainey, the graffiti boy with a fluorescent yellow forehead guard, said, "The professor will like my drawings. Artistic people."

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

"Come on, I don't know anything, and reciting contaminates my brain." Rainey touched his nose, a typical German with green eyes and a little freckles, dressed in reggae-style clothes.

"And who said that wasn't the right answer? Who said that you have to write to answer the question? The same goes for drawing, I'll pass!"

"Okay, I'll pay you to paint a poster for me. It's bigger and more impactful. It's used to promote this club. The price is whatever you want, but I hope it must be shocking enough." Bruce said.

Rainey snapped his fingers and said, "Rich guy, you've found the right person! There's no one in Gotham who knows how to shock people better than me!"

Several people's heads huddled together and muttered.

"What? You mean you want to..."

"You're a genius..."

"Add me one, and I'll come too!"

"It's a big surprise... yes, I'm sure..."

"Maybe in the face of this, he will give us a pass..."

A few days later, Schiller was accumulating anger notes while checking papers. Although he had already expected the level of these ignorant students at Gotham University, he still did not expect that they would be able to pass the exam like this.

Since he didn't want to be continuously polluted by these academic garbage, Schiller planned to work overtime today, pass all the papers in one go, and then give most of them a failing grade.

Suddenly, he heard a high-pitched honk from the office building's window, a bit like a fire siren, but shorter and sharper than that.

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

He heard a commotion downstairs, as if someone were calling his last name, and Schiller put down his pen, left his desk, and walked to the window.

The entire side of the building on the opposite side was covered by a huge curtain. Schiller heard people say that it was a wall renovation. He didn't walk that way very often, so he didn't pay much attention to it.

But as a result, just as he walked to the window, the curtain on the opposite wall fell instantly. There seemed to be a huge graffiti on it. It was as high as a 7-story building. The side shot is as bright as day.

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

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

Schiller stood in front of the window, his eyes were first shaken by the high-power spotlights, and when he opened his eyes, he saw such a picture.

Schiller: "..."

Symbiote: "...Wow."

The side of the entire graffiti reads: "Join the psychology club, face the heart of the people, face the black sun. - Blue Ghost Rainey"

Schiller bowed his head and saw a group of people standing at the bottom of the building waving at him excitedly, 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 terrifying aesthetics, and people couldn't take their eyes away when they saw it, as if their souls were sucked in by it.

Horror, weird, bizarre, absurd, but full of beauty that makes people deeply immersed in it.

Schiller recalled that "Gotham" originally meant "The Village of Fools", and it was indeed full of all kinds of absurd fools.

But at the same time, it is full of talents of all kinds, with unparalleled talents and fascinating vitality.

Schiller is indeed a little fascinated. This kind of bold and eccentric absurd action is full of special vitality that is not found anywhere in the world, like the terrifying vines climbing up from the bottomless abyss, and like the top artworks of countless masters.

Schiller knows more than these students, but he just realized that he hasn't learned one thing yet—

Indeed, he hasn't learned Gotham yet.

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

This city of darkness ~www.novelmt.com~ does not need anyone to correct it. They live so madly in the abyss, living out a twisted and strange vitality.

This kind of vitality grows from the darkness, and the people here use madness as a blade, so accurately point directly to anyone's heart.

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

The people here can see through their professors like mind reading with their brains that don't have the slightest knowledge of psychological theory.

The black sun is also the sun, and this is a more accurate profile of Schiller.

Schiller's incarnation is indeed not a scorching sun, but a sun that is neither bright nor hot, a black sun.

After a few minutes, Schiller wrote a line of words on the foggy glass with his fingers - "You have passed."

In an instant, violent cheers erupted from downstairs, and under the black sun, it was as if the people lit by this never-bright star were revelling for the celebration of the new life.