Chapter 40: Teaching You the Proper Way to Vent with Animals

"Why should I be the one to pay?" Commissioner Gordon asked, looking puzzled.

"It's certainly not coming out of my pocket."

"Don't... there's no need to bribe those reporters," Harvey said, regaining his composure and shaking his head. "Let them say what they want."

After the press conference, the three of them found a 24-hour diner to grab a late-night snack. Soon, the playboy Bruce Wayne arrived, dressed in casual attire.

"Good evening," Roland greeted Bruce.

"Hmm," Bruce nodded, sitting down beside Gordon and picking up a box of fries to munch on.

"By the way, Harvey, when are you planning to marry Gilda?" Bruce asked. "If you don't hurry up, I might just beat you to it."

"Who knew you, Bruce—with those thick brows and big eyes—also had a taste for Cao Cao's penchant for other men's wives?" Roland glanced at Bruce. Ever since taking off his mask, this guy had really started to let himself go.

"Ha, I won't give you that chance." Harvey downed a glass of cola and let out a happy burp. "Ah, getting some extra sugar really helps. I feel much better now."

"Speaking of which, you... are you alright?" Commissioner Gordon asked, sounding a bit concerned.

"I'm fine, just lost control of my emotions for a second," Harvey said with a smile. "Don't worry, I've seen a therapist. It's nothing major, just stress from being too pent up lately."

"Are you really sure?" Roland asked skeptically.

"Of course."

"Well, then I have some bad news for you. Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, whom you all worked together to put behind bars last month, was released two hours ago. The reason given was 'insufficient evidence,'" Roland said, looking at his phone. "A witness recanted their testimony."

"What?" Harvey exploded in rage, the veins in his hands bulging as he flipped the table over.

"Are you a crow? Why do you have to flip the table at the slightest provocation?" Roland hurriedly scrambled to save the fried chicken and fries that had fallen off.

"Harvey, calm down!" Bruce urged.

"How do you expect me to be calm?" Harvey threw the table aside in a fury. "That damn murderer was actually released! 'Insufficient evidence'—it’s just someone trying to plead insanity for him, then letting the Scarecrow work for them!"

"Harvey, I know you're angry, but being irrational won't help the situation," Commissioner Gordon said, grabbing Harvey’s arm to restrain him, his own expression dark and grim.

Gordon felt a surge of rage in his heart as well, seeing the murderer he had risked his life and spent so much energy to capture released just like that.

"How about we go kill the Scarecrow?" Roland suggested.

"Good! That’s the only way to end the evil in Gotham!" Harvey clenched his fists and swung them forward. "Let's go!"

"Can you stop adding fuel to the fire?" Gordon glared at Roland and joined Bruce in holding Harvey back.

After a brief struggle, they finally managed to get Harvey under control. Bruce wiped the sweat from his brow. "Seriously, Harvey, you should change your therapist. I think you have a real problem here."

Seeing his old friend’s eye bruised and purple from his own outburst, Harvey calmed down and felt a pang of guilt. "Sorry, I acted impulsively."

Roland glanced at Bruce. This guy was really good at playing the part.

The four of them made small talk for a while longer, but the mood remained heavy due to the business with Harvey and the Scarecrow, and they soon went their separate ways.

As Bruce was leaving, he looked at Harvey, hesitating as if he wanted to say something, but remained silent for a long time before asking, "By the way, did your therapist suggest that you find a way to vent your stress in moderation?"

"He did say something like that," Harvey nodded. "Why do you ask?"

"Uh... I was just wondering, what do you use to vent?" Batman continued, fishing for information.

"It's a pretty standard method. I bought a punching bag for my home, and I hit it whenever I'm feeling down," Harvey said. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Oh... I see." Seeing that Harvey hadn't mentioned anything about animals, Bruce didn't want to be too blunt. "If you're having trouble in that area, I know a few excellent therapists... and zoologists."

"Are you planning on getting me an emotional support dog?" Harvey didn't quite grasp what Bruce meant.

"I mean, pets can take your mind off things, reduce stress, and provide companionship, which can help alleviate depression," Bruce said. "But if you're going to try animal therapy, it's best to have a therapist guide you."

...Is there any need for a guide to pet a dog? Harvey was confused, but out of guilt for injuring his best friend, he didn't argue and just nodded. "I understand. If I need help with that, I'll let you know."

"Good." Bruce climbed into his luxury car. "Goodbye, Harvey."

"Goodbye, Bruce." Harvey waved at him. A flickering, dilapidated streetlamp cast light on his face, revealing a smile that only covered half of it.

Back home, Harvey took a quick shower and, after a glass of warm milk, drifted into a deep sleep.

In his dream, Harvey found himself in a thick, grey fog. The surroundings were cold and damp, feeling suffocatingly oppressive.

Harvey ran forward, but he couldn't escape the shroud of fog. He collapsed to the ground, the repression and fear making it impossible to breathe.

"Harvey... Harvey..." A familiar voice called out to him, which only filled Harvey with more dread.

"Harvey Dent..."

"No, go away! Don't come closer!" Harvey clutched his head and ran frantically.

"Hahahaha... Harvey, you can't escape me... it's time." A tall figure slowly emerged in front of him. He looked much like Harvey, but more vicious and aged.

"Get out of here! I don't want to see you!" Harvey began to tremble, roaring to mask the fear in his heart.

"Humanity is not singular; the split is always happening. Everyone has two sides to their personality. He is two people. They coexist in the same body—often quite uncomfortably." The tall figure let out a strange laugh, continuously flipping a coin in his hand.

"I don't want to see you, get lost!"

"It's useless, Harvey... I am you... no matter where you hide, you can't get away from me!"

The coin flipped up and down, over and over, tormenting Harvey's nerves.

"No!" Harvey jolted awake from the nightmare, drenched in cold sweat.

"Damn it..." Harvey cursed, pulled back the curtains, and stared blankly into the night over Gotham City.