Take Central City, for example. Its crime rate was indeed low, and its public safety ranked among the best in the United States—but only if missing-person cases were excluded, or rather, if missing persons were not casually classified as having died due to crime. Otherwise, the crime rate would shoot up overnight.
Immigrant neighborhoods were the hardest hit by missing-person cases, like the one where Schiller and Constantine currently were. Police presence was sparse, no one paid much attention, most people lived in rentals, and the population was highly transient. There were also plenty of people in criminal trades who moved after every job. If the people in a house suddenly vanished, no one would find it strange.
It was a natural hunting ground for serial killers.
Not everyone had the ability to withstand a massive police manhunt while satisfying their twisted inner urges. Most people could only manage one or the other, so naturally, many serial killers unwilling to tangle with the police came to cities like this.
Or rather, they had been driven here by those talented, virtuous colleagues of theirs.
After all, plenty of people in this world could outwit Batman while creating works of art. If they could not compete with people like that for attention, they could only retreat to third-tier cities and barely make a living.
After making two rounds through the neighborhood, Schiller set his sights on a house. Its resident had probably killed quite a few people, though he did not seem like the kind of killer who murdered solely to satisfy psychological cravings. It looked more like he was dealing in blood or organs.
Schiller was not particularly interested in killing an organ trafficker, but finding an artist in a city like this was difficult. He could only see whether this