In a small bar on the edge of Gotham City's southern Affluent Area, Schiller squeezed a little lemon juice into a mixed gin, raised his glass, and said to Gordon, "Congratulations, Detective. At least now you can act according to your own wishes."
Bruce, seated across the round table, also raised his glass. After Harvey lifted his, he said, "This is indeed worth celebrating. You're the most upright cop I've ever met."
The four clinked glasses. Gordon took a sip, his face slightly flushed, whether from excitement or alcohol. "The more that's true, the more I know how far I still have to go."
"Progress is always good," Bruce said.
Schiller smiled, hiding his mouth behind his glass. "Is that so? It seems our innocent little boy has made quite a bit of progress lately?"
Bruce set down his glass. "I recall you once said you had no advice for my private love life, Professor."
"But I also reminded you that you'd better take care of your kidneys. And by that, I didn't mean merely keeping them from getting stabbed. Trick Street certainly has lovely scenery. Its neon lights are famous across the entire East Coast..."
Gordon's eyes moved back and forth between them. Then he raised a brow. "What riddle are you two speaking in?"
"Nothing. I'm merely advising you to mind your own business less in the future. Some people are very confident in their kidney function."
Gordon understood immediately. "Looks like Bruce's love life has been quite rich lately."
Schiller set down his glass and said with a smile, "Quite the opposite."
Harvey knew some of the inside story. He nudged Bruce with his elbow and said, "Looks like things are progressing quickly between you and that girl you mentioned. What, have you made it official already?"
Gordon immediately perked up his ears. Bruce rubbed his temple, looking at the three of them with their eager, troublemaking expressions. "Come on, come on. What does that have to do with anything? That's my private business. Today's gathering is supposed to celebrate Gordon's promotion."
"I think a team leader position at the Gotham Police Department is far less worth celebrating than our world's richest gentleman getting a new girlfriend," Gordon said.
"That's a bit exaggerated. After all, the world's richest gentleman has far too many girlfriends," Schiller said.
"But a Police Department team leader is no different from an ordinary cop. It's useless," Gordon mocked himself.
Bruce was thoroughly helpless before them. "Fine, I admit it. That's right. I've fallen for a girl... No, not that kind of liking. It's not because of her pretty face or figure... Well, she is very pretty, and she does have a great figure, but that's not—"
Gordon and Harvey both wore expressions that said he did not need to explain. Harvey even said, "At your age, whenever I liked a girl, I also thought it wasn't because of her looks. Now I know that was bullshit. Every man in the world who says that is talking bullshit."
Gordon tugged at his tie. "Could there really be a girl who made Bruce fall head over heels? Then I'd really like to see what kind of person she is."
"She isn't actually anything special," Bruce said. "She's just a girl from the Slums. Like every ordinary girl, she likes sparkling gems and jewelry. Her dream is to have a castle piled full of gemstones."
"Do you prefer German castles or French ones?" Schiller asked. "I think Neuschwanstein Castle would do nicely. How about buying it?"
Bruce could endure no more and flicked his wineglass. "I'm not trying to pick her up! I'm serious. Don't look at me like that. I admit that in the past, I was a little... Fine, not just a little... But I really intend to marry—"
"You aren't standing in front of her right now. There's no need to say such pretty words."
Schiller hurriedly cut off Bruce's flag. Was that something just anyone could say?
Still, it probably did not matter. Batman was the protagonist, after all. If the protagonist said something like that, nothing too bad should happen.
Bruce took a sip of his drink. He was unusually excited. "We really have made it official, and we've been going on dates for several nights in a row. She gave me a very beautiful gemstone."
"And you? Haven't you given her anything?" Harvey asked.
"I'm thinking about it," Bruce said.
"That's rather rude," Harvey said. "Could it be that you look down on her because she comes from the Slums? Forgive my bluntness, but not everyone is as fortunate as you. I think that, at least for you, class should not stand in the way of love..."
"Of course I don't think that."
"The problem is, if you don't quickly give her a gift to show your feelings, she might think so," Schiller said. "Any girl from the Slums dating the world's richest gentleman probably wouldn't feel very confident."
"All right." Bruce said, "What do you think I should give her? I've thought about it for ages and still can't come up with anything."
Harvey did not know Catwoman's true identity, because he did not know Bruce was Batman, much less the story between them.
But Schiller knew all too well.
"How about a pearl necklace?" Schiller said.
Bruce's grip on his glass tightened. He took a sip and said, "I have to admit, I don't like pearl necklaces very much. But if she likes them, then I'll definitely give her the best one."
After the gathering ended, Schiller returned to his apartment and cleaned himself up, getting rid of nothing but the smell of alcohol.
Schiller had his reasons for traveling back and forth between DC and Marvel. After coming to DC, on one hand, he wanted to let Marvel's plot develop on its own for a while. On the other, he needed to wrap up matters here on schedule.
He was a fairly cautious person and wanted everything to have a beginning and an end. Although the old headmaster not going to prison had been somewhat unexpected, his original purpose in returning had been to clean up the loose ends left behind by the Jonathan case.
The old headmaster had now become Batman's target, and Schiller did not intend to interfere for the time being. But there was still one other person: the missing Director Victor.
Schiller knew Sal Maroney had most likely kidnapped him. Even so, Maroney might not kill him. A former Police Department director could yield plenty of useful information, and after suffering such enormous losses, Maroney would not let Victor die so easily unless he could recoup his losses.
But Schiller had to get rid of Victor.
In the early stages of the Jonathan case, his abilities had not been sufficient. When he stole the Fear Gas, he had only used the simplest method: burglary. At the time, he had been unable to erase every trace completely. Though he had cleared away ninety-nine percent of the evidence, he still had to eliminate that remaining one percent chance of discovery.
In order to clear Jonathan's name, Victor had entered the evidence room more than once. This old cop was the only person who might expose Schiller's theft of the Fear Gas.
After Jonathan entered the asylum, the most traditional version of concentrated Fear Gas had already gone out of production. But because of Maroney's massive losses, many gangsters had set their sights on this weapon. Once anyone revealed who had stolen the Fear Gas, those gangs would swarm in like sharks smelling meat.
Schiller had originally planned to pay Maroney a visit, but before that, someone entirely unexpected came looking for him.
Schiller followed a man in black into a car. A Suit Man seated in front said, "Professor Schiller, there's no need to be afraid. The Godfather has invited you over only because he needs your help."
The extended luxury car soon arrived at an estate not far from the South Side. Schiller followed his guide inside. The estate was decorated in an old-fashioned style. After entering, he went up to the third floor. The guide knocked on a door, and a deep voice came from within. "Come in."
Schiller entered and saw a tall man—or rather, an old man. His hair was silver-gray, and he wore a well-tailored suit with a bow tie. A red poppy was pinned to his breast pocket, and he carried an imposing air without needing to show anger.
Fingering the ring on his hand, he said to Schiller, "Professor Rodriguez, I apologize for disturbing you so abruptly. I invited you here because I require your assistance."
"It is my honor to serve you, Mr. Falcone."
Schiller walked over and stopped with a table between himself and Falcone. Behind Falcone was a floor-to-ceiling window, while two bodyguards in black stood on either side.
Falcone said nothing at first. He nodded, then directly stated his request. "I have a son. He is no longer young, and both my family and my business need him to inherit them. I would like to hire you as his tutor."
Before Schiller could ask any questions, Falcone continued, "His previous tutor was shot three times in the chest and did not survive. I heard that you can even make Bruce Wayne turn in his homework on time. You should be a suitable candidate for a good teacher."
"Of course, I am not threatening you. I know you caused a little trouble in Metropolis, and some people followed the scent here. But by now, they should all be in the sewers."
"This is my sincerity. What do you think?"
Schiller looked at Falcone. He was more like the early DC Comics depiction of this mob boss. Falcone had been inspired by Corleone from The Godfather—the character portrayed by Marlon Brando.
Compared to the image of Falcone shown in films and television, wearing a jacket and strange sunglasses, this old man indeed looked more like the family Godfather who ruled Gotham's vast criminal forces.
"All right, but I have one more condition."
"The previous Police Department director has disappeared..." Schiller said.
"You want to find him?"
"No. I want to kill him."
Falcone sat down. He accepted a cigar from the person beside him, took a puff, exhaled smoke, and slowly said, "Victor... I know him. A somewhat clever old swindler. What grudge do you have against him?"
"I think that in Gotham, you don't need a grudge to kill someone."
Falcone smiled with the cigar in hand. "It seems you really will make a good teacher."
This Falcone was based on the early DC Comics setting. You can think of him as Gotham City's Corleone Godfather—just picture Marlon Brando. After all, he was originally drawn after The Godfather.
Before you continue