The house number reading Kaz's Sorvo 125 swayed gently in the night wind. Looking up along the moisture-covered wall, dim yellow light shone from the window. Two silhouettes sat facing each other before it, seeming close, yet as distant as two separate worlds.
"...Teaching those trainee agents wasn't easy. Or rather, working in that kind of environment meant being careful at every turn, because too many eyes were watching you."
Schiller took a sip of wine and sighed softly. "But I had no choice. That mistake in my youth had already erased me from society. I had to work for violent law enforcement agencies. They called it 'atonement.'"
"I'm sorry, Professor." March gently shook his head. "I don't mean to question the federal justice system, but if a free citizen has already paid enough for his mistakes, then no one has the right to force him into a job."
"Whether you call it coercion or restriction, the Federal Bureau of Investigation didn't want me getting too deeply involved in society. But I'm human too. I need to get out and breathe once in a while. So they could only choose the lesser evil and throw me into this supposedly most chaotic and darkest city."
March's gaze froze for a moment, as though he had thought of something. Then he heard Schiller say wistfully, "I used to drift around Chicago in my youth. Back then, James Gordon was still attending police academy there. We met once. I never expected to run into him again this time."
"I heard of Sheriff Gordon's great reputation from Mr. Wayne. Under his leadership, the Gotham Police Department has solved case after case of murder and captured countless criminals. Even the most difficult lunatics could only surrender helplessly."
"I don't know when Gordon acquired such abilities."