Rebuilding Base is Under Construction

Banner slowly opened the criminal mental patient file in his hands.

The first page of the file is the prisoner’s serial number, with the words 402001 printed in bold, just like on the prison uniform.There is only one nickname "Joker" in the name, and his age is also unknown.

But the criminal record that followed was a dozen pages full.

Banner: "..."

He seemed to understand why the warden didn’t want normal psychiatrists to line up with the Joker—the doctors who died in his hands could fill a street of hearses, not to mention Harley Quinn. Such a precedent.

But... he certainly can't.

Banner was silent for a while, and by this time it was impossible for him to not understand what the warden meant-anyway, just watch the clown and don't let him get involved, and don't think about treatment.

To be honest, the clown is well-known and a well-known mental illness. Probably few people in the world believe that he will be cured.

Banner is certainly not so overpowering.

Then he... chat with the clown?

Banner: "..."

The treatment of the clown in the prison was obviously not very good. His dark green hair probably hadn't been washed for a long time, and it lay softly on his forehead, but he heard intermittent humming from deep in his throat.

Banner decided to start: "Well, you feel... a little happy now?"

"Well, little green man." The clown's humming was interrupted, and he said grinning, "I know you."

Banner is a little uncomfortable with this title.

"So... I don't think I would call it'little'."

"Yes, I'm very happy." The clown suddenly replied seriously, and unexpectedly returned to the previous topic.

Banner searched for knowledge that he hadn't mastered in his own extraordinary memory, thinking about how to answer here.

"Mr. Warden is so wary of me, of course I am happy." The clown said with a grin.

Banner took a deep breath, he shouldn't need to answer.

"Are you happy too?" The clown whispered in a low voice, "Yes, of course you are happy. He didn't treat you as a monster, he used you as a tool."

Banner: "..."

"The stupid big green guy is regarded as a crisis by the world." The clown said as if talking to himself, "but the warden is different. He understands who you are, he gave you a job, and he helped you Suppress yourself--well, suppress that little guy."

Banner: "..."

The clown looked over with a grin: "What do you think, doctor?"

Banner's slightly drooping head suddenly fell, then opened his eyes in confusion, apologizing on his face.

"Sorry... I'm too unprofessional." He sat up straight, "Mr. Clown, Joker? I mean, I'm listening."

He pulled the chair forward slightly.After the little accident just now, he suspected that the clown might take out a buzzer to attack him.

But it's also possible that he hasn't played enough here yet.

Taking a nap while listening to the patient's account-Banner took a deep breath with a sad face.

"Uh, in fact, I have to admit that I am not an expert in this area." He began to lie like Zhang Dianyu, "But Mr. Warden hopes that I can help... well, the prisoners who are suffering from mental problems in the prison People."

He paused, looked at the clown's face looking at the ceiling, and thought for a moment. Is this also troubled?

The clown turned his head and looked at Banner in an almost bizarre position.

Banner touched his face awkwardly.His stubble hadn't been shaved for a long time, and his hair was messy. He was suddenly led by a guard and forced to work as a psychiatrist. He also felt that he might be embarrassed.

He is just a prisoner, nothing more.

"Oh?" The clown suddenly raised his tone. "Why do you think that a Hulk troubled by anger can relieve a lunatic?"

The disappearing smile of the clown gradually appeared again, with a trace of mystery: "Dr. Banner, think about it, if the warden wants to cure a mentally ill criminal-no offense, but you are not an expert."

Banner admits this.

"It's better to say that maybe what he hopes is to really release the lunatic in prison--"

Banner seemed to be lost in thought.

The clown's voice was deep and smooth: "...what do you think, doctor?"

After a while, Banner cleared his throat: "As the acting psychiatrist in the prison, I think I can prove on behalf of the warden that he started the project to treat mentally ill criminals solely for the well-being of the prisoners. There are mental patients. The right to be properly treated and become a normal person-of course, after they have served their sentence."

Although Banner himself didn't quite believe this statement, he still extracted and integrated a declaration from the corners of the medical files in a short time to express his position.

He even caught a glimpse of the jester's sentence-it is obvious that even if he becomes a normal person, he probably won't have a chance to be released.

The clown seemed confused, he tilted his head and looked at Banner for a while.

Banner thought for a while, and said first: "Is there any problem? You can tell me."

"I want to hear from you—Doctor, the worst day you ever experienced, do you remember it?" The clown licked his lips excitedly, his eyes looking like a child who wanted to hear a story.

Banner was stunned.

As everyone knows, Hulk is a monster.

The worst day was that stream of gamma particles. An accident was the day when he changed from a respected researcher to a monster chased and killed by the military.

"I don't..." He subconsciously refused.

"Tell me, Doctor." The bound clown turned his head and said to him, "I want to listen."

Banner was silent for a moment, then sighed slightly.

"No need."

The clown narrowed his mouth and looked unhappy.

Banner didn't notice, his eyes penetrated the air and he didn't know where he was looking.

"Have you never thought about where the green monster came from?"

The words floating from the wall made Banner frowned insignificantly.

"He comes from anger, your own anger, anger towards that day." The clown suddenly laughed out loud, his voice seemed to penetrate the wall, "As long as the day is bad enough, everyone will become a lunatic——Hulk It's you," he laughed out of breath, "Doctor, it's funny that you want to drive yourself out of your body."

Banner was silent.

"Look, we always have some similarities."

Like a demon's lure, the low voice echoed in the small cell.

Banner did not say a word of refusal.

He was thinking about the warden, really, as the clown said, want to release the malicious side of human beings—the prisoners really have experienced more than one bad day.

But this is a little different from what the clown said.

The warden’s behavior seemed to him to be a little erratic, but the "bad day" that the clown said was a heavy blow to destroy faith, and it seemed different.

The prisoners are constantly suffering mentally-but their desire to survive seems to be stronger.

"Then doctor, tell me—how have you dealt with the trouble it caused you lately?" the clown asked softly.

Banner rubbed his eyebrows and answered truthfully: "Recently... Pilates."