On a somewhat gloomy morning, the flagstone road was covered in muddy tracks left by the rain that had just stopped. Pair after pair of feet stepped through them, hurrying toward their destinations.
From their leather shoes and trouser cuffs, it was clear that the people walking along the road were not Gotham University students, but professors and staff.
Gotham's morning air was at its best, and these professors, long past the age of sleeping in, often chose to rise early and head to the faculty dining hall for breakfast.
Although most of Gotham University's teaching facilities were rather old, for a restaurant, that only made it classic.
The European-style restaurant carried a strong retro atmosphere: heavy carpets, elaborate carved trim, silverware, flickering candlelight—a distinctive charm not found in any other university on the East Coast.
A pair of leather shoes stepped over the threshold, but no waiter came to lay down a mat. Their owner did not care in the slightest, rubbing his shoes against the carpet until the remaining rainwater beneath them had been absorbed before striding inside.
The bell on the reception counter rang, and a plump Black woman in an apron and floral headscarf emerged. The moment she saw the visitor, she broke into a warm smile and said, "Oh, Bruce, you're awfully early today. What will you have? Still skipping the Appetizer Wine?"
Bruce lifted the hem of his suit jacket, slipped both hands into his trouser pockets, and leaned against the counter. "Yes. I had something to do at the university this morning, so I came here for breakfast. Two servings of appetizer bread, no cooked dishes, just some salad."
The woman rolled her eyes and stared at Bruce with her brown pupils. "Oh, stop joking, handsome. Even with two servings of appetizer bread,