Chapter 29: Prisoner

. Early morning.

Standing in front of the mirror, washing up, Jack noticed new stubble on his chin.

He opened a drawer and fumbled around, but couldn't find the familiar cleaning tools. Instead, he found a box.

Inside was a brand new electric shaver.

"...Huh?"

He pulled the shaver out, bewildered. It was all black, with buttons on the side and a closed blade that couldn't be removed. It looked safe and convenient.

...

Bruce sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed, as if contemplating the meaning of life.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened a crack, and Jack poked half his head out.

"Honey?" He raised the brand new electric shaver in his hand. "Is this what you replaced for me?"

Bruce glanced calmly at the item in his hand and said calmly, "Alfred replaced the bathroom supplies yesterday."

"Oh," Jack replied, then casually asked, "What about my old one?"

"I put it away as a spare," Bruce replied with a normal expression.

After breakfast.

In the living room, Bruce and Jack sat across from each other, one holding a pen and paper, his expression serious, while the other twirled his fingers idly, seemingly lost in thought.

Sunlight slanted in through the window, casting a glow on the bookshelves and casting a hazy glow on the quiet afternoon.

Bruce sighed deeply. He had been maintaining a regular sleep schedule for the past few days, monitoring Jack's condition, controlling his medication dosage, and ensuring he drank a glass of milk before bed to keep him awake all night.

Because of this, Bruce had to wake up early each day to remove the restraints holding Jack in place and remove any traces that shouldn't be there.

He had also been wearing a microcurrent device—connected to Jack's wristband—that would detect any changes in Jack's breathing or heartbeat and awaken Bruce from any level of sleep, allowing him to dispose of items that shouldn't be found.

So far, nothing had gone wrong.

Of course, this precaution had come at a cost—after three days of poor sleep, even Jason was asking about the dark circles under his eyes.

But he didn't have time to dwell on such trivial matters right now.

After confirming that the candy Jack had ingested contained an unknown psychotropic substance, Bruce began his gradual withdrawal test. By isolating himself from the candy, he could observe Jack's mental and physical reactions. This would allow him to explore whether Jack's current suspected split personality disorder was caused by the candy.

This was why he was now sitting before Jack, a detailed logbook in hand.

"Honey, I really don't think this is necessary every day," Jack bluntly stated, expressing his nonchalant attitude towards the test. "Honey, you're not a professional psychiatrist after all—honestly, I think it's a complete waste of time."

Bruce glanced at Jack, who was sitting unsteadily, and said briefly,

"I have a master's degree in psychology."

Jack quickly shut up, glancing at Bruce with a strange look, seemingly surprised.

"Oh, that's surprising," he asked with interest. "You've never told me this before. What makes you interested in learning this? I thought you were busy enough."

...not out of interest,

but to study the mind of a madman.

Bruce didn't answer. He simply raised his head, looked at the man before him seriously, and asked, "Did you have a nightmare yesterday?"

"Of course not," Jack shrugged casually. "At least I don't remember it. In fact, I've been sleeping soundly these past few days."

He leaned forward, leaning in close to Bruce, and whispered in his ear, "Maybe it's because sleeping next to you makes me feel safe."

The sound sleep was probably due to the medication.

Bruce calmly pushed him away.

"Sit down," he said.

Then he made a few notes on the corresponding items on the form and asked,

"Have you had any headaches, tinnitus, or abnormal sense of smell recently?"

Jack shook his head.

"And have you had any auditory or visual hallucinations recently?"

Jack smiled at him.

"No," he denied. "I can guarantee that everything is the same as before. I feel much better."

Everything being the same as before would be truly abnormal, Bruce thought.

He asked a few more questions, but Jack's answers proved that his mental state was normal.

Bruce's pen tip hovered over the chart, his brow furrowed slightly.

He'd stopped eating candy for four days, but Jack hadn't noticed any abnormalities in either his physical or mental health.

Was it because it hadn't been long enough?

Or was it that the drug wasn't affecting his mental state?

Could there be some other interfering factor?

He wrote a few concise words on the chart: "Stable," "No significant reaction." Then he added a note: "Re-evaluation of the relationship between drug effects and suspected schizophrenia."

But if the drug wasn't acting on the mind, then what was it doing?

"Is it over?" Jack's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Bruce looked up. Jack was resting his chin on his hand, observing Bruce's every move intently.

"Almost done." He stood up and put the chart away in a drawer. In the study, Bruce sorted through some documents, his computer streaming the footage from the bedroom security camera. 

Since Jack returned to the manor, he had installed numerous new hidden cameras throughout the property, especially in the bedrooms and living room. 

In addition, he also adjusted the window of his bedroom bed. Now the window cannot be opened from the inside. This is also to prevent accidents. 

Bruce turned off the computer and stood up. He was going to go to the bedroom to check on Jack in person. 

Just as he reached the door, he heard a familiar sound of footsteps. He turned around and saw Jason holding a game controller in his hand and walking upstairs in two steps. 

"Jason," Bruce called out to him at the stairs, "What are you going to do?" 

Jason paused and looked up at Bruce. 

"What's wrong?" He raised the game controller in his hand to Bruce and explained, "I'm going upstairs to play a game with Jack. We agreed before." 

Bruce stopped him and whispered, 

"Jack is asleep. Don't disturb him now."

"He's taking a nap now? How strange."

Bruce's expression was calm, without any clues. He said calmly:

"He didn't get enough rest last night, so he's catching up on his sleep now."

"Okay." Jason didn't insist. He turned around and said as he walked downstairs, "I can do it alone."

After the footsteps completely faded away, Bruce walked back towards the bedroom.

The bedroom door was half-open, and Jack was sitting at the desk reading.