Chapter 73 Gotham 1987 (Part 1)

The slightly cold morning breeze rustled the branches outside the window, and the orange morning light shone through the layers of heavy curtains, illuminating the dim room.

The bedroom door was knocked, Schiller turned over, and the butler outside said: "Sir, ten minutes ago, a gentleman named Gordon called you, and I told him to call him back after you get up."

Schiller said slowly with a hoarse voice: "... Got it."

He sat up from the bed, woke up from his still drowsy sleep, and then walked to the window and opened the curtain on one side with one hand. He saw the milkman on a bicycle ringing the bell at the door, and soon someone went out and took the milk can from him.

This is Gotham, a manor in the West District, and Schiller's new home in Gotham.

Although the teacher's apartment at Gotham University is not bad, he really should buy a house of his own.

This is the old city of Gotham City. Unlike the wealthy area in the south, this was a city built by a group of British nobles when European immigrants arrived in America. Therefore, most of the houses here are traditional English manors. Later, due to the inclination of urban planning and the superior geographical location of the south, the wealthy area moved from the west to the south.

Most of the old manors left here have a classical English style, but because the descendants of the nobles rarely stay here, most of these manors are uninhabited. Schiller bought the best-maintained and most decorated one at a very good price.

He did not buy a house in the wealthy area in the south, not because he could not afford it, but because of a very realistic reason-the manor in the west is closer to his workplace, Gotham University.

If he wants to go to work from the wealthy area in the south, he has to drive thousands of miles and cross most of Gotham City.

The worst thing is that he has to go through the central city area, which is the most congested during peak hours.

Therefore, no matter how luxurious the villas in the wealthy area in the south are, they are definitely not within Schiller's range of choice. He is not Bruce Wayne. Once there is a traffic jam, he will take a helicopter directly. He does not want to spend most of the day on the road.

Another advantage of choosing the old manor in the West District is that there are fewer people here, it is relatively quiet, and there will not be cars coming and going early in the morning. Schiller can sleep well on his days off.

The most important thing is that this place is far away from Wayne Manor and the mountain where Bruce wants to build the Batcave in the future. If Batman is attacked by the Joker in the future, the range of attack will not reach him.

After a while, the butler came in, opened the curtains and tied them, and then said, "Breakfast is ready, sir."

Schiller nodded, took the glasses case he handed over, put on the glasses, looked down at his watch and said, "When did Gordon call?"

"About 25 minutes ago."

Schiller looked back out the window again, and then went downstairs for breakfast.

Go down the wooden stairs and through a somewhat dark corridor. The restaurant is at the westernmost part of the manor building. Going into the corridor, it is a semicircular restaurant with tall arched windows. Dark green silk curtains are hung on both sides of the windows. The silver tableware on the mahogany dining table gleams mysteriously in the dim light of the morning.

The morning light from the arched window falls on the dining table. The squares and round tableware projected by the window form a picture of light and shadow. Schiller picked up the ironed newspaper from the right hand side.

The ink on the printed newspaper is a little blurred. The top line reads: "January 25, 1987, cloudy weather, rainy afternoon, Gotham Daily."

While eating breakfast, Schiller looked for the information he needed from the newspaper. The fonts of newspapers in this era are often printed very small, and the ink is easy to smudge. He has to use a magnifying glass.

After a while, the butler came in and said, "Mr. Gordon is here."

Schiller put down the magnifying glass in his hand and looked up. Gordon was wearing a brown windbreaker and a beret. When he walked into the restaurant, he was still cold. Seeing Schiller reading the newspaper, Gordon said, "Did you see the news today? The Godfather is angry. He does not allow the Metropolitan ship to dock at the eastern pier anymore."

"I'm reading this part." Schiller pushed his glasses and said, "I stayed up late to write a paper last night and missed your call this morning."

Gordon took off his windbreaker while He said, "I don't have anything important to do. You know, I'm not busy at work recently. I just wanted to call to congratulate you on your new home. Oh, by the way, my gift is still in the car..."

"No hurry, have you had breakfast? Why don't you sit down and eat together?"

Gordon handed his coat to the butler and said, "I went to the bureau this morning and have already eaten. I brought you the information you asked me to find."

He put a black briefcase on the table and began to search, then took out a document from it and handed it to Schiller.

Schiller said, "Thank you for your hard work. Even if you have eaten, have a cup of hot milk."

Gordon did not refuse. He sat at the dining table and said, "At first, I was a little surprised when you said you wanted to take over Viscount Bernard's manor. After all, not many people like this kind of old-fashioned manor now."

"Nowadays, the rich people in Gotham still prefer the vertical villas, preferably with a large garage so that they can park their luxury cars."

Gordon looked around. The decoration here is the most typical British style, with silk curtains, knitted carpets, wooden furniture, and a stone fireplace. The fire inside is crackling, and you can feel the warmth even if you don't get close.

The restaurant in the old manor is not too big, and the corridor is relatively narrow. You can even see extremely retro metal wall candlesticks on the wall. The atmosphere in the whole building seems to have traveled back to the Victorian era.

Gordon retracted his gaze and said, "But now it seems that this place suits you very well."

"It's not that I have a special liking for Ying's Manor, but if I buy a house in the south, it will be too far from where I work. The terrible traffic conditions in Gotham may make me miss all my classes in the morning."

Gordon picked up the cup and took a sip of milk and said, "Who isn't? Every time I go to work at the police station, I am blocked by those damn people at the central roundabout. You know, I got the first place in the driving class at the police training school!"

"This damn place, everyone is a desperado. They never consider that in a roundabout with hundreds of cars moving at the same time, stepping on the accelerator to the bottom may suffocate them to death by the pop-up airbags!" Gordon said angrily.

"I can see that you must have been stuck for a while just now." Schiller said with a smile.

"I have seen at least ten talented racing drivers who can win the F1 championship along the way." Gordon said a little depressed.

"Speaking of which, this is also the fault of our new chief. The police station is short of staff, and we can't transfer all the traffic police away, right? Several new people have been transferred to my team these days. They don't know anything and just want to rush up with guns."

Gordon shook his head and said, "It's better to go back and direct their traffic!"

"The police have an easier life, and it's also related to this chief. Just bear with it."

Gordon put down the cup and rubbed his hands, and said excitedly, "But I will soon be able to buy an apartment next to the police station."

"Have you saved enough money?"

"Almost, can you imagine? I made $80,000 last week. Even if I don't have such a high income next week, as long as I save a little more, I can buy an apartment in full."

"Why are there so many? There shouldn't be too many cases last week. At most, only $50,000, right?" Schiller turned around and asked him while eating.

Gordon raised his eyebrows and said, "Oh, I forgot, you are not a local. No matter where you go in Gotham, you have to pay protection fees, and the same goes for the police. I am now the head of the field team, and all the police under me have to give me 15% of their income."

"So you took it? Like a gangster boss?" Schiller joked.

"You don't understand this place. If you don't take it, they will be scared, because in Gotham, if you take their money, it means you are willing to take them to continue working. If you don't take it, they will worry that this business will be gone tomorrow."

"I heard that you are going to marry your fiancée? Is she in Gotham now? When do you plan to hold the wedding?"

Gordon coughed and said, "She is going through the procedures for job transfer. The company in Metropolis is particularly troublesome to hand over. It will take at least a week, but it's good. I can have some time to buy the apartment I like and give her a surprise."

Schiller shook the newspaper in his hand, and then said while reading, "What do you want? Wedding present? I'm rich now."

"Really? Richer than Wayne?"

Schiller rolled his eyes and said, "If I were richer than him, you wouldn't see me here."

"In fact, if I hadn't made so much money, I wouldn't want to get engaged so soon. I might have been on vacation in Hawaii by now."

"I thought you worked all year round."

"Come on, I'll go crazy. I need a good body and a good mood to survive in this damn city for a long time."

Schiller took a cigar from the cigar box on the table, picked up a pair of scissors to cut it open, and handed it to Gordon. Gordon took it, and Schiller took the match handed over by the butler, lit one, and lit a cigarette for Gordon.

Then he took one and lit it, exhaled a puff of smoke and said, "The Godfather is in a bad mood recently, and some daring people want to come to his territory to make trouble."

Gordon stretched out his hand holding the cigar, changed his posture, leaned on the armrest of the chair, sighed comfortably, and said, "Why did you ask me to check the information of the floating population in Gotham? Is there something wrong with Metropolis? I heard that the people who angered the Godfather came from Metropolis."

"If I say this is the trouble that followed me, would you be surprised?"

"Of course not." Gordon denied it almost without thinking.

"When I first met you, I had a feeling that you must be someone who can cause big trouble."

"Why?"

"You can regard it as a detective's intuition."

"Interesting, can you tell me in detail?"

"I have seen many criminals, they are different..." Gordon stood up, supported his wrist on the table, and said: "...Completely different, those stupid thieves are completely different from real serious criminals."

"I have never heard any serial killer yelling at the judge, speaking rudely, they have a temperament different from ordinary people..."

"When you face Batman, I always feel like you are looking in the mirror."

"You think I am very similar to him? Are you serious?"

"Some places are completely different, but some places are surprisingly consistent."

Schiller looked at Gordon and said: "Keep this sharpness, you will become the savior of Gotham."

Gordon knocked the ash on the silver plate, and then said: "The Godfather is not going to be easy this time. The group of people who got in seems to have some tricks. They killed the two bartenders of the Falcone family. If the Godfather does not catch them in a short time, he will lose face in Gotham, which is more serious than anything else."

"The gangs should not dare to provoke the Godfather in a short time, right?" Schiller put down the newspaper and leaned back in the chair.

"It's hard to say. Don't underestimate those people. Don't forget that Maroni is not dead yet. He made a lot of money in the conflict in the East District. Maybe he is planning to challenge the Godfather."

"He is looking for death." The smoke fell with the voice, Schiller stretched out his hand, flicked the cigar with his fingertips, and the fine dust slowly fell.

"Not necessarily. The Godfather somehow bypassed him and had the old director Victor killed. I heard that he also wanted to get involved in Arkham Hospital, but was kicked out by the Godfather. Maroni couldn't bear it."

"The East District is not peaceful. Maroni is eager to suppress the forces he has recruited. He needs a victory to establish his authority and to completely gather the fresh blood he has just absorbed."

"He dares to use the Godfather to establish his authority. Falcone will let him learn a lesson." Schiller leaned back in the chair, tugged at the collar of his sweater, and looked very relaxed.

Gordon coughed twice again. He squinted his eyes through the smoke from the top of the cigar and stared at the reflection on the silver plate. He said, "Maroni is a powerful person, and the Godfather is old."

"You are more optimistic about him?"

"No, I hope the old Godfather can win. As long as Falcone is still there, Gotham will not be in chaos. Once he is gone, it is hard to say."

Soon, Gordon left. After all, he still has work to do. Recently, it is his peak season. If he works hard for another month, buying a villa will not be a problem.

After Gordon left, Schiller leaned back in his chair and smoked the whole cigar. The smoke lingered on his fingertips. He hadn't thought so relaxedly for a long time.

In this city full of crises, if he is not sure of safety, he doesn't even have time to rest for a cigarette.

Before this, Schiller had never thought about buying a house, nor did he need a home, because he was not a Gotham man. He came from a country with the safest order in the world.

As the cigar burned, the smoke, which was several times thicker than cigarettes, drifted into various elusive abstract shapes, giving rise to countless associations. In the psychedelic and sweet smell, Schiller began to recall.

He could not remember clearly whether he was shocked or excited when he encountered a shooting in Chicago for the first time after leaving his hometown.

He only remembered that when the plane fell, the strange waves he had participated in for half his life blurred into a mist in the memories of life accompanied by weightlessness and lack of oxygen. As they wished, when these memories dissipated with death, countless secrets were buried forever.

If there really is a god in this world, Schiller thought, then this great existence who can give people another life really knows him well enough.

Gotham is the sewer of sin in the world, and good people will not be washed into the sewer.

Schiller looked at the top of the cigar at his fingertips, where the fire gradually extinguished, the smoke began to become thinner, and the pattern that was transformed began to slowly dissipate.

He knew that when he regained consciousness and learned from the original owner's memory that this was Gotham City, the excitement that filled his brain for the first time would eventually destroy all his ambitions for a peaceful life.

In other words, the enjoyment of the boring and ordinary daily life was just a self-deception of a madman who was proficient in self-hypnosis from beginning to end, until he saw the appearance of Batman.

As the smoke drifted away, Schiller recalled the feeling when he first used his weak mind-reading ability to contact Batman's heart.

As Gordon said, he felt like looking in the mirror.

So, he gave Batman the answer he wanted to hear most, and then almost couldn't wait to put an end to the boring and despairing life.

And now, he finally became a citizen of Gotham, in the winter of Gotham in 1987, on the first birthday of his second life.