Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics-Chapter 4432 - 3519 Research on Cats and Dogs (30)_2

The other three were all similar—pure amateurs with virtually no background in chemical education, and they never stepped into the lab. These three were the most suspicious.

Batman originally thought that the electrician who arrived late was the most suspicious. However, the police presented the results of their inquiries: the school auditorium had lost power at the time, and there were reportedly hundreds of alibi witnesses. The electrician's suspicion was ruled out as well.

That left the psychology professor and the physical education coach, with their levels of suspicion essentially equal. Batman's gaze swept back and forth between Shiller's photo and the coach's photo, before finally settling on Shiller's.

There was indeed no concrete evidence proving that this psychology professor was the culprit, but years of detective intuition told Batman that this seemingly cultured professor was far from innocent.

Although the coach's physical capabilities gave him more opportunities to administer poison, as the saying goes in Gotham: compared to a powerful warrior, you must be more cautious of those who appear weak and defenseless, because their mere survival here is suspect in itself.

But by now dawn had broken. Aside from Jonathan, who still had time remaining, no one else had a reason to stay at the police station any longer. Without evidence, Batman couldn't justify detaining anyone for further questioning and had no choice but to let them go.

To ensure Jonathan's safety, Batman left Superman at the station. Meanwhile, he used the pretense of investigation as an opportunity to visit Gotham Police Department himself and to observe whether Professor Rodriguez had any vulnerabilities to exploit.

After Batman departed, Superman found himself feeling a little bored. He sat outside the interrogation room, watching the officers busily coming and going.

A burly bearded officer with a cup of coffee approached and sat down with a sigh, looking rather fatigued.

Superman turned his head, noticing the man's stocky build and impressive beard.

Then, suddenly, Superman realized something was off—the man's heartbeat frequency and blood flow were abnormal.

With a soft "click," the door to the interrogation room opened. Jonathan Crane, who had been mentally counting the seconds, looked up and saw a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at him.

"It's an honor, Professor."

Jonathan squinted slightly. He didn't recognize the bearded man in front of him and was certain they had never crossed paths before.

The red glow in the man's eyes indicated that he wasn't human and that his intentions were hostile.

Seeing the man's heaving chest, Jonathan felt a little relieved. He placed his hands deliberately on the table and tried to feign composure. "Professor? I've barely been in the role for a few days. How could I have such a renowned reputation already?"

"No need to be modest. We all know what you've done," the man said as he took the chair across from Jonathan. "I'm here today to talk about a potential collaboration."

"Collaboration? In what area?"

"What I need—or rather, what we need—is to influence the Justice League."

"And who exactly is 'we'?"

"That's not something you need to know. We just hope you can assist us."

"Assist with what?"

"If you were dead, the Justice League would inevitably fall into chaos. When their weaknesses are exposed, we'll seize the opportunity to strike and secure victory."

"Wait a second," Jonathan said, realizing something was off. "What does the Justice League have to do with me?"

"Trying to deny it now is a bit late, Professor. We all know about your close ties with the Justice League, especially with their central figure, Bruce..."

"Hold on a moment." Jonathan raised a hand. "Let's set aside whether I have close ties with the Justice League for now. You think Bruce is the central figure of the Justice League?"

"Isn't he?"

"If you say so." Jonathan had no interest in arguing; he suddenly pieced together a realization. All the strange conversations that had occurred since he arrived at the police station—he finally understood the reason behind them.

"Shiller!!!!!!" Jonathan screamed internally. "You bastard! How dare you shove the blame on me?!?!"

So that's why Batman was acting so polite—they think I'm Bruce's mentor? I slaved away to return to my position at Gotham University as a professor, only to be your scapegoat?!

But while he raged internally, Jonathan quickly grasped the gravity of the situation.

He knew that this Batman hadn't arrived alone; Superman was here too, likely stationed outside his door. If that was the case, how had this man managed to get in?

Regardless of whether he had subdued Superman mentally or physically, the fact alone made this man extremely dangerous.

More importantly, the intruder presumed him to be the influential professor that could sway the Justice League's balance. This meant the intruder was determined to eliminate him here and now. Any misstep wouldn't just hurt his career—it would send him straight to meet God.

But Jonathan wasn't called the Scarecrow for nothing—he was a man who could spar with Batman with impunity. The more precarious the situation, the calmer he became, shedding all emotion as his mind began calculating relentlessly, the air itself seemingly vibrating from the speed of his thoughts.

Even if he wasn't truly a professor, he had no choice but to play the role of one now.

Because professors were valuable; Jonathan Crane, as himself, was not.

The fact that the intruder hadn't attacked immediately indicated there was room for negotiation. This was Jonathan's first assessment.

More likely, the intruder feared the professor might have hidden contingencies, which suggested an incomplete understanding of the professor's capabilities—leaving room to bluff his way out. This was Jonathan's second assessment.

The intruder likely hadn't killed Superman—at most, he temporarily incapacitated or restrained him. Superman would recover quickly, which meant the intruder was working against the clock. They were under far more pressure than he was. This was Jonathan's third assessment.

In summary: stall him first, then find an opening to eliminate him.

"I didn't expect you to find me," Jonathan said, lowering his gaze—and cursing Shiller internally—while mimicking the professor's demeanor. "I thought you'd recklessly attack the Justice League head-on, squandering all your advantages. You people are slightly smarter than the last bunch."

"Looks like we've found the right person, Professor," the burly man said.

Jonathan, however, shook his head. "But your intelligence is still limited. If you were truly smart, you wouldn't have come to me."

The bearded man stepped closer, towering over Jonathan. "Are you counting on that big guy outside? He won't be able to help you."

"I don't need his help."

For Scarecrow Jonathan Crane, his expertise in chemistry was only rivaled by his accomplishments in psychology and neuroscience. His crowning achievement was the creation of fear gas, which derived its potency from inducing paralyzing terror.

If the fear gas could take down Batman, it could incapacitate any creature with a functioning respiratory system.

Moments earlier, Jonathan had already noticed the intruder's breathing—confirming his dependence on oxygen. This meant the fear gas would work just as well on him.

Leaning back in his chair, Jonathan reached for his waist where he always kept a small vial of the compressed fear toxin in liquid form.

But his fingers found nothing but emptiness.

Back in his office at Gotham University, Shiller pulled a small glass vial from his pocket. Inside, half-filled with a dark green liquid. He gently swirled the vial and smiled.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

"Long time no see, fear venom."