"But it seems you've forgotten one thing." Tim looked at Brand and said, "The doctor Brand you brought back caused more trouble than just this one."
"What?"
"Oswald Cobblepot, he went to see a doctor because he had symptoms of a precursor to schizophrenia. Because your treatment of Edward was quite effective, he booked an appointment with you. And you can probably imagine what kind of judgment that unskilled guy made."
Tim stared intently at Brand's expression, because this might be the only time in his life he'd see such a "sky is falling" expression on the face of an Outer God, he couldn't miss it.
"You're completely mistaken." Tim said, "Even if it's to preserve the body, you can't call back the original one. To be threatened or to harbor greed and participate in such experiments shows he's really not a smart person. If he could stand at the pinnacle of the industry with his professional level, he wouldn't need to live like a rat in the gutter, would he?"
Brand was so angry he sat back down. He surely knew that Cobblepot and Shiller were together, even if Shiller wasn't an expert in pathology, but if there was anything wrong with Cobblepot, he would definitely be able to see it. And that doctor Brand with a less than professional level must have glossed over it, saying things like "it might not be a big deal," "let's observe a bit more" and so on. If Shiller heard such a judgment, he would definitely have a problem with him—quacks harm people!
"This guy never improves." Brand slammed the table, "His consciousness has always remained in the shell, watching me treat patients for so many years, hasn't he learned yet?!"
"Hard to say." Tim pierced directly, "Batman and Professor Shiller have been intertwined for so many years, haven't they learned too?"
Brand's face grew more somber. This isn't a quack hurting people, it's the student causing trouble. Back then, he shouldn't have left a part of this guy's soul because he found it interesting. He was already not very smart, and during the sacrificial ritual, a part of his intelligence was sacrificed, making him even more foolish. He thought that after watching for so long, it wouldn't be a problem to emulate for a few days, but now it seems that given a few more days, he could poke a hole in the sky!
"Unless..." Tim dragged the tone. Brand looked at him.
"If that doctor's conclusion is correct, there might still be room for redemption. I think Cobblepot's problem isn't big, but there's one thing worth researching."
"What?"
"Those 200 tons of ice." Tim said, "Cobblepot said he completely has no memory of seeking ice from Fries. If it's not an illness, then what could be happening?"
Brand was slightly stunned. Tim's words lacked an antecedent and consequence, sounded a bit absurd, but he soon understood—it should mean Cobblepot appeared to be in good condition but did something resembling the precursor symptoms of schizophrenia, suggesting there might be another clue.
"What do you need me to do?" Brand directly asked.
"If it wasn't Cobblepot who went to search for Victor, but someone who used special means to impersonate him, there would be clues in his memory."
"Don't joke about that." Brand said, "The relationship between Victor Fries and Shiller is so good, how would I dare to touch him?"
"I never said to use coercive means. Aren't you Outer God types supposed to be skilled at disguise and deception?"
Brand seemed about to retort, but as if suddenly thinking of something, he said: "Victor joined a secret society investigating Outer Gods. They are supposedly a group of novelists. You can write to him as a pen pal and ask."
"That's an illegal society," Brainiac reminded.
"Give me Victor's mailing address." Tim said, "I want to know if the Cobblepot he encountered is problematic."
Brand gave Victor's mailing address to Tim. Of course, it wasn't his home; during the previous alliance meeting, everyone used disguised identities and virtual addresses. Victor placed the communication address not far from Gotham University.
Tim picked up a pen to write. Brand watched him write and asked, "It seems you already have some thoughts."
"If it wasn't Cobblepot himself who went, but someone impersonating him, then this person must know Cobblepot very well to fool someone as familiar with Cobblepot as Victor. It's likely someone close to Cobblepot."
"From his behavior, it's impossible he's doing it for Cobblepot's good. On the contrary, he wants Cobblepot to doubt himself, or simply force him to the mental hospital for treatment. And once Cobblepot is gone, the biggest beneficiary is his subordinate. I remember, Cobblepot has a capable assistant named Ogway."
Tim paused for a moment and then said: "Oswald Cobblepot has practically no weaknesses. He's a profit-driven businessman from the underbelly of Gotham, has close ties with the Old Godfather, and is a legitimate subordinate of the New Godfather. The Cobblepot Group is deeply rooted in Gotham, hard to shake, the only weakness is the seemingly present, seemingly non-existent hereditary mental illness. To bring him down, you have to start there."
"I heard he also has an ailing mother," Brand said, "who was previously hospitalized at Arkham Mental Hospital, but I didn't take her as my main patient because, as you said, Cobblepot is smart. I worried he would find out my issues."
"That's not how it's done." Tim said, "The people behind it want the benefits the Cobblepot Group can bring, just need to drive Cobblepot away. But messing with his mother would only push him to the brink, and when the fish dies, the nets would also break, no one wins."
"The key is to make Cobblepot feel that he can no longer lead the group, and that he should go to the mental hospital for treatment, voluntarily handing over his authority. That way, the person who takes over would seem legitimate and can better control the Cobblepot Group."
"Moreover, if it were a forcible takeover, Brainiac wouldn't approve. Now, regardless of the group, it's all Brainiac Group, and if they don't nod in approval, no one can transfer power. But if Cobblepot voluntarily withdraws, it's different. Brainiac has a soft spot for mental patients and would naturally arrange for him to seek treatment, allowing the person most familiar with the group's operations to take over."
"And going to Victor and asking for so much ice was to have Victor corroborate Cobblepot's illness, as well as exaggerate Cobblepot's condition. After all, doing this without memory implies significant risk if a mental episode occurs. Even if Cobblepot doesn't want to go, Brainiac might also mandate treatment for him, the result being the same."
"Just as expected, Victor took Cobblepot to see the doctor. But the problem lies with the doctor here; that useless student of yours... or rather the unlucky follower, he can't deal with this kind of illness at all, so he just muddles through, saying there's nothing wrong no matter what."
"And if you can prove my reasoning above to be correct, then you've not only not delayed Cobblepot's condition but actually helped him. The fact that Cobblepot went to see the doctor proves he suspected something himself. If he were truly diagnosed, it would have played right into that person's hands."
Brand nodded repeatedly as he listened. From a professional standpoint, he said, "A certain degree of memory loss is indeed an early symptom of schizophrenia. However, during the onset, meaning during the time of memory loss, people find it very difficult to communicate normally, let alone contact someone to transport 200 tons of ice..."
"Hold on." Tim suddenly stopped his pen and looked at Brand, "What did you just say?"
"I said, patients with schizophrenia cannot maintain normal social interactions..."
"The latter part."
"If Cobblepot is really having an episode, he wouldn't have been able to find someone to help him transport 200 tons of ice..."
Tim directly tossed the pen aside and said, "We don't need to look for Victor anymore. We need to find another person. Brainiac, what is Jack up to?"
"Playing cards in the North District shelter," Brainiac replied.
Tim walked out and put on his coat, with Brand following behind him. Tim checked his sidearm and then asked, "Are you riding in my car, or flying over?"
"I can't fly," Brand said, "Let's go."
The two drove all the way north once more. At this moment, the public shelter in the North District was bustling, with people sitting in groups on the villa floor, eating, chatting, or playing cards. As soon as Tim stepped in, people began yelling noisily.
"The police are here, the police are here, make some room!"
"Why are these cops always... I mean, why are the police here? I haven't done anything recently!"
"Damn blue-skinned dog, you... uh, sorry, force of habit, you look unfamiliar. Are you an intern?"
Tim was dizzy from the noise of the Gothamites. This villa seemed to be packed with truck drivers, who were all former mob members, and they generally didn't have a good relationship with the police, habitually speaking with a sharp tone.
Tim pushed through the crowd and found Joker Jack leaning against a corner wall, throwing cards out. He forcefully tossed his cards onto the ground: "Big and little joker! Your flush doesn't matter! Get it out of here!"
They were playing a traditional Gotham card game called "Dockside," where not only do the numbers matter, but also the suits. Different suits can't trump each other, but the big and little jokers are still the highest.
Jack saw the police boots, lifted his head, and was about to curse at the police, but when he recognized Tim, he held back and nearly choked himself: "Cough, cough, cough, wait a moment."
Jack started waving, asking: "Anyone want it? Anyone want it? No? Then this round is mine!"
The other players waved their hands disinterestedly, clearly indicating Jack won this round. Jack pocketed the point cards being used as chips, then followed Tim outside.
"200 tons of ice." Tim got straight to the point. "Someone must have hired truck drivers to transport 200 tons of ice recently. Do you know who it was?"
"Oh, Cobblepot, I guess." Jack had just pulled out a cigarette, then seemed to remember something and put it back. Smacking his lips, he said, "This guy seems not to have given up on his idea of opening the Iceberg Restaurant and insisted on hauling over 200 tons of ice from Gotham University. Transporting this stuff is a hassle; it took ten large trucks in total."
"Did Cobblepot personally contact you?"
"Not me, it was another truck driver. I don't understand why he went to someone else," Jack shook his head and said, "Clearly I've previously driven for the Kobert Group, yet he didn't contact me immediately. Maybe he knew this job was tough. When unloading into the underground storage, it was freezing, turning those drivers into grandsons, lucky I didn't go."
Tim showed a "just as expected" expression.
"Did Cobblepot personally contact that person?"
"Of course not, he's a big boss, doesn't have that much time. It was probably someone under him."
"Who usually contacts you under his supervision?"
"Ogway," Jack replied, "A tall, thin man who doesn't talk much, seems to be Cobblepot's capable assistant."
"Just as expected," Tim said.