Jason had been unsettled by Schiller's final words before coming ashore, because they reminded him of an argument he had once had with Batman, again over their differing attitudes toward criminals.
"I will become the embodiment of fear in Gotham. Fear will be like a noose around every criminal's neck, maintaining balance by making them afraid to act rashly."
"Then why not just kill them?" Jason remembered asking angrily. "Make them bleed. Make them pay the price. Use them as a warning to those who come after, so they won't commit crimes again."
"Perhaps that would solve some of the problems." Batman had rarely offered further explanation. "But it won't solve all of them, because there will always be people in this world who aren't afraid of death."
Jason recalled Batman's attitude when he said that. He seemed to have separated death from fear, but weren't they supposed to be one and the same? Who wouldn't fear death?
Schiller was the first to leave the boat and step onto the level ground. It had clearly been artificially maintained. Through the somewhat murky water, Schiller guessed that a Bat-Submarine was docked beneath the island.
Jason followed close behind, stepping onto the damp morning earth. He crossed a patch of wild grass, stepped over rotten planks and fallen deadwood, and headed toward the island's only cottage.
Fortunately, the area before the house was no longer such a mess. A small garden lay ahead, with several faded signs whose writing could no longer be read. He climbed the porch steps and pushed open the sky-blue front door, only to find that the interior was quite comfortable and cozy.
The floor was made of naturally dark red pine, with a deep-blue doormat bearing a welcome message. On the right stood a marble fireplace decorated