The slightly cold morning breeze rustled the branches outside the window, and the orange morning light filtered through the layers of thick curtains, illuminating the dark room.

There was a knock on the bedroom door, Schiller turned over, and the valet outside said: "Sir, ten minutes ago, a gentleman named Gordon called you. I told him that after you got up, you called He called back.”

Schiller's voice was hoarse and he said slowly: "...I know."

He sat up from the bed, woke up from his still groggy sleep, 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. , someone soon went out and took the milk can from his hand.

This Is Gotham is a West End estate and Schiller's new Gotham home.

Although the faculty apartment at Gotham University was nice, it was really time for him to buy a house of his own.

This is the old city of Gotham City. Different from the wealthy areas in the south, this is the city where a group of British nobles established when European immigrants arrived in the Americas. Therefore, most of them are traditional British manors. Later, because Due to the tilt of urban planning and the more advantageous geographical location in the south, the wealthy areas moved from the west to the south.

Most of the old manors left here have a classic English style. However, because the descendants of those nobles rarely stay here anymore, most of these manors are uninhabited. Schiller offers a very good price , and bought the one with the best maintenance and the decoration style that he liked the most.

He did not buy a house in the affluent area of ​​​​the south, not because he could not afford it, but because of a very practical reason - the manor in the west was closer to Gotham University, where he worked.

To go to work from the wealthy areas in the south, he had to drive thousands of miles through most of Gotham City.

The most terrible thing is that you have to pass through the central city, which is the most congested during peak hours.

Therefore, no matter how luxurious the villas in the wealthy areas of the south are, they are definitely not among Schiller's choices. He is not Bruce Wayne. Once he is stuck in traffic, he will just take a helicopter. He does not want to spend most of the day in On the road.

Another advantage of choosing an old-fashioned manor in the West District is that there are fewer people here, it is relatively quiet, and there are no cars coming and going in the early morning. Schiller can have a peaceful sleep on his days off.

The most important thing is that it 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 attack will not be able to reach him.

After a while, the valet came in, opened and tied the curtains, and 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 glanced back out the window again, then went downstairs for breakfast.

Go down the wooden stairs and pass through a somewhat dark corridor. The restaurant is at the west end of the manor building. Walk along the corridor. It is a semicircular restaurant with tall arched windows. Hanging hangings on both sides of the windows. The dark green silk curtains and the silver tableware on the mahogany dining table shimmered with mysterious luster in the dim light of the morning.

The morning light shining in from the arched window fell on the dining table. The square and round tableware projected by the window formed a picture of scattered light and shadow. Schiller picked up the ironed newspaper from the right side.

The ink on the printed newspaper was a little blurred, and the top line read: "January 25, 1987, the weather was cloudy and it rained in the afternoon, Gotham Daily News."

Schiller was eating breakfast while looking for the information he needed from the newspaper. In this era, newspapers often printed very small fonts, and the ink easily smeared, so he had to use a magnifying glass.

After a while, the footman 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, there was still a chill in his body. He saw Schiller reading the newspaper. Gordon Said: "Did you see the news today? The Godfather is angry. He will not allow the Metropolitan ship to dock at the Eastern docks anymore."

"I'm seeing this part." Schiller pushed up his glasses and said, "I stayed up late last night writing my thesis and missed your call this morning."

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

"No hurry, have you had breakfast? How about sitting down and eating something together?"

Gordon handed the coat he took off to the valet and said, "I went to the bureau this morning and had already eaten. I brought you the information you asked me to find."

As he spoke, he placed a black briefcase on the table and began to rummage through it, then took out a document and handed it to Schiller.

Schiller said: "Thank you for your hard work. Even if you have eaten, let's have a glass of hot milk."

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

"Rich people in Gotham still prefer vertical villas, preferably with a large garage where 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 flames inside are crackling, and you can feel it even if you are not close. feel a sense of warmth.

The restaurant in the old-fashioned manor is not too big, and the corridor is relatively narrow. You can even see extremely retro metal wall candlesticks on the walls. The atmosphere in the entire building is like traveling back to the Victorian era.

Gordon looked back and said, "But now it seems that this place suits you very well."

"It's not that I have a soft spot for Ying's Manor, it's just that if I buy a house in the south, it will be too far from where I work, and Gotham's bad traffic situation may cause me to miss all my classes in the morning. "

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

"Everyone in this damned place is a desperado. They never consider that in a carousel with hundreds of cars moving forward at the same time, pressing the accelerator to the bottom may cause them to be suffocated by the deployed airbags. !" Gordon said angrily.

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

"I came here all the way and saw at least ten talented racing drivers who can win the F1 championship." Gordon said a little depressed.

"Speaking of which, it's also our new chief's fault. The police station is short of manpower, so we can't transfer all the traffic police, right? Several new people have been transferred to my team in the past few days. They don't know anything. They hold guns. I just want to rush up.”

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

"The police have a better life, and they have nothing to do with this chief, so just bear with it."

Gordon put down his cup, 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?"

"It's almost there. 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? Last week's case shouldn't be too much, only 50,000 US dollars at most, right?" Schiller turned to ask 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 leader of the field team. All police officers must give me 15% of their income."

"So you just accept it? Like a gangster?" Schiller joked.

"You don't understand this place. If you don't accept it, they will be afraid. Because in Gotham, if you accept their money, it means that you are willing to lead them to continue doing business. If you don't accept it, they will have to worry about this business. There won’t be any tomorrow.”

"I heard that you are getting married to your fiancée? Is she in Gotham now? When are you planning to hold the wedding?"

Gordon coughed and said: "She is going through the procedures for job transfer. The company in the metropolitan area is particularly troublesome to transfer. It will take at least a week, but it's okay. I can have some time to give the apartment I'm looking forward to." If you buy it, you can give her a surprise.”

Schiller shook the newspaper in his hand, and then said while reading: "Have you thought about what wedding gift you want? I am very rich now."

"Really? Richer than Wayne?"

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

"Actually, if I hadn't earned so much money, I wouldn't have wanted to get engaged so soon. I might have been on vacation in Hawaii by now."

"I thought you were open year-round."

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

Schiller took out a cigar from the cigar box on the table, picked up the scissors, cut it, and handed it to Gordon. Gordon took it. Schiller took the match handed over by the valet, lit one, and lit Gordon's cigarette. .

Then he took one and lit it himself. He blew out a puff of smoke and said, "The Godfather is in a bad mood recently. Some bold people want to come and run wild on his territory."

Gordon stretched out the hand holding the cigar, changed his position, leaned on the armrest of the chair, sighed comfortably, and said, "Why are you asking me to check the information on Gotham's floating population? Is it from Metropolis?" What's the problem? I heard that the people who pissed off the Godfather are from Metropolis."

"Would you be a little surprised if I said this was trouble following me?"

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

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

"Why?"

"You can kind of think of it as a detective's intuition."

"Interesting, can you tell me more about it?"

"I have seen many criminals, and they are different..." Gordon straightened up, supported his wrists on the table, and said, "...completely different. Those stupid thieves are completely different from the real serious criminals."

"I have never heard of any serial murderer yelling or speaking rudely to the judge. They have a different temperament than ordinary people..."

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

"You think I look a lot like him? Are you serious?"

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

Schiller looked at Gordon and said, "Keep this sharp, and you'll be Gotham's savior."

Gordon knocked the cigarette ashes on the silver dinner plate, and then said: "The Godfather is in trouble this time. The group that sneaked in seemed to have some skills. They killed two bartenders from the Falcone family. If the Godfather fails to catch them within a short period of time, he will lose face in Gotham, which will be more serious than anything else."

"The gangsters won't dare to challenge the Godfather in a short time, right?" Schiller put down the newspaper and leaned back in his chair.

"It's hard to say. Don't underestimate those people. But don't forget, Maroney is not dead yet. He made a lot of money from the conflict in the East End. Maybe he is planning to challenge the Godfather."

"He is looking for death." The smoke fell to the ground with the words. Schiller stretched out his hand and flicked the cigar with his fingertips. Fine dust slowly fell.

"Not necessarily. The godfather somehow got past him and had the old director Victor killed. I heard that he also wanted to get involved in Arkham Hospital, but he was kicked out by the godfather again. Maroni I can’t bear this tone.”

"The East District is not peaceful. Maroni is eager to subdue the forces he has absorbed. He needs to win to establish his authority and completely recruit the new blood he has just absorbed."

"If he dares to use his godfather to establish his authority, Falcone will teach him." Schiller leaned back in his chair and tugged on the collar of his sweater, looking very relaxed.

Gordon coughed twice more. Through the smoke coming out of the top of the cigar, he squinted at the reflection on the silver dinner plate and said, "Maroni is a powerful man, and the Godfather is old."

"Do you think more of him?"

"No, I hope that the old godfather can win. As long as Falcone is still there, there will be no chaos in Gotham. But once he is gone, it will be hard to say."

Soon, Gordon left. After all, he still had work to do. It was his peak season recently. If he worked hard for another month, buying a villa wouldn't be a problem.

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

In this crisis-ridden city, he wouldn't even have a cigarette break if it wasn't safe.

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

As the cigar burned, the smoke, which was several times richer than a cigarette, dispersed into various elusive abstract shapes, making people think of countless associations. In the psychedelic and sweet smell, Schiller began to think back.

He couldn't remember whether his first emotion was shock or excitement when he encountered a shooting in Chicago for the first time after leaving his hometown.

He only remembered that when the plane fell, the memories of life that were accompanied by weightlessness and hypoxia, the strange waves he had participated in during this half-life were blurred into a fog. Just as they wished, when these memories dissipated with death, countless secrets It will be buried forever.

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

Gotham is the sewer of all evil in the world, and good people will not be flushed down the sewer.

Schiller looked at the top of the cigar on his fingertips. The fire there gradually extinguished, the smoke began to become thinner, and the transformed patterns began to slowly dissipate.

He knew that when he regained consciousness and learned that this was Gotham City from the memory of the original owner, 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 boring and ordinary daily life is just the self-deception of a madman who is proficient in self-hypnosis from beginning to end, until he sees the appearance of Batman.

As the smoke cleared, Schiller recalled what it felt like when he first used his weak mind-reading powers to touch Batman's heart.

As Gordon said, he felt like he was looking in a mirror.

Therefore, he gave Batman the answer he wanted to hear most, and then almost couldn't wait to bring an end to the boring and ordinary life that made him despair.

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

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