Two waiters came over, and Schiller glanced at the one facing him. The waiter wearing white gloves showed Schiller the menu on his hand. Schiller glanced at it briefly, and then gestured with his eyes.
The waiter went to the opposite side.
So the two waiters exchanged positions. Jason couldn't understand why they moved in this way. Harley lowered her voice and said to him: "It was the British who landed in Gotham, so we followed the rules at that time.
If two people are having dinner together, one person should order food and the other person should order wine."
"Then what if the person you order doesn't like it?"
"Of course I will ask the other person if they like it when ordering, but generally no one will say they don't like it. The purpose of coming to this kind of restaurant is not to eat at all."
"It's like living in pain."
"There's something even more outrageous. You can take a look at the menu."
Harley and Jason sat face to face inside, while Schiller and Pamela sat outside. Harley made a face at Jason. Her words made Jason feel a little curious, so he didn't move.
He tilted his body towards Pamela and glanced at the menu in her hand.
In an instant, Jason's eyes widened, and a gasp came to his lips, but he held it back again when he thought of the current situation.
The swallowed air got stuck in Jason's throat, causing him to cough hard several times and his face turned red. Schiller looked up from the drink list, looked at Jason and said, "Are you okay?"
"It's okay, I just, I just choked."
"Then drink water slowly."
"Okay, Professor."
The other two were looking at the menu intently. Jason leaned forward and said in an extremely low voice: "Are these prices serious?"
"Didn't Bruce take you out for dinner when you were in Wayne Manor? His spending is probably even more exaggerated than this."
"We rarely go out to eat. Bruce doesn't trust the food outside. Besides, Alfred cooks very well, even though he is also British."
Spotting Schiller's gaze, the two children immediately stopped communicating, straightened their backs, leaned on their chairs like statues, and began to study the patterns on the ceiling.
"Cobot got two bottles of Dom Perignon Champagne, the 1959 celebration edition. He graciously gave me one bottle, which is now stored in the wine cellar of the new restaurant."
Schiller put down the wine list and explained to Pamela, then looked up at the waiter and said: "Please open it for me, thank you."
After Pamela finished ordering, she sighed softly, looked at Schiller and said: "Professor, I have to remind you that there is almost no progress on the subject of cultivating crops in Gotham. Even if you bribe me with precious wine,
I can’t conjure plant seeds out of thin air that can be grown on a large scale here, so do you still want to drink wine now?”
"Of course. Judging from the way you made a whole field of broccoli grow in an instant that day, I think it's only a matter of time before you complete this project."
Pamela stretched out a hand to cover her eyes and said, "Professor, you have to believe me, Bruce never told me that his emergency restrictions were to make you allergic to broccoli."
"Why didn't he tell you?"
Schiller leaned back and let the waiter holding the champagne do the opening ceremony. Pamela blinked, as if she was reading the hints in Schiller's tone. She stared at the clear wine entering the cup, and cleared her throat to test.
Just ask.
"He...can't have good intentions, right?"
"certainly."
Pamela rolled her eyes, picked up the wine glass, clinked it with Schiller and said, "He is doing it for someone to share your anger?"
"It must be so." Schiller smiled and nodded.
Pamela showed a look of understanding, took a sip of wine, then gently put the wine glass on the table, wiped her mouth with a napkin and said: "Professor, although it is a bit abrupt to say this, Bruce took advantage of me.
I have the ability to cause trouble for you, but you didn't tell me the consequences of doing so. We are both victims."
"Victims should unite, shouldn't they?" Schiller also put down the wine glass. When the waiter put the appetizer plates on the table, Schiller picked up the knife and fork and suddenly changed the topic: "The issue of cultivating crops in Gotham
No progress at all?"
Pamela sighed helplessly and said: "Let's put it this way, when I made a contract with the Green of All Things, he told me that I would become the representative of plants and defend the right of green life to exist in the entire universe. I
Told him I planned to defend Gotham first, and he stopped talking."
"Later I realized what his silence meant. There is only black in Gotham, no green. This is an area beyond the control of the green of all things. All the artificially cultivated plants here will go crazy, sooner or later."
Pamela watched the waiter remove the appetizer plates and bring the main course. While cutting the food, she said: "The soil-cultured plants in the first period either died during the germination period or went crazy during the growth period. I think it may be the soil."
There was a problem, so I switched to hydroponics, and the hydroponic plants in the second phase went even crazier.”
"I assumed there was a problem with the water, so I started to use pure water purchased from other cities for watering. The plants in the third stage performed well and did not bite like crazy until they matured. So I watered and fertilized with confidence and cultivated them exceptionally well.
Thrive."
"Three days into the picking period, two strong cabbages beat five people next door, breaking two of their ribs and perforating one of their eardrums."
"Indeed... very strong." Schiller could only comment like this, and then he asked curiously: "What is the problem?"
Pamela shook her head and looked confused. She said: "Not only water and sunlight, but also the air was changed in a batch of samples in the third phase, but they went crazy at the same time."
"I sent all the data to every botanist I knew, and they all had no clue. I even asked All Green, but he never responded to my message since that day."
Seeing Pamela's confused and sad expression, Harry still laughed without restraint, and then giggled out of breath until he choked himself.
Schiller stretched out his hand to help her, looked at Pamela and asked: "How many cabbages have you planted?"
Pamela showed a hesitant expression, and Schiller leaned forward slightly, as if he wanted to hear the answer, so Pamela said softly: "Two tons."
Jason almost spit out the food in his mouth, and Schiller was also stunned. He stared at Pamela and asked: "Why did you plant so much?"
"I haven't gained the power of the green of all things for a long time. I don't control some of the power very well. I used the wrong method when I stopped those cabbages from beating people. Not only did I not reduce their number, but I also caused them to split.
Each leaf of the original specimen split into a robust cabbage, and so..."
Schiller sighed. He was not surprised that this kind of thing happened in Gotham, but he still asked after a pause: "Have you considered seeking help?"
"Of course, I have consulted many experts in this field, but the situation in Gotham is too special. Apart from here, I have never heard of any place where plants go crazy, and they can't help."
"I mean, have you ever considered enlisting the help of Batman's wisdom?"
Pamela's hand holding the fork paused. She recalled Schiller's previous topic, showed an expression of sudden realization, and said: "Actually, I went to see Bruce before, but I didn't really count on him. You
Does it mean that I should let him join my project team and the two of us jointly develop?"
"Miss Pamela, Gotham's agricultural development is an important part of the self-sufficiency here. We cannot expect the federation to provide us with the survival resources we need when a disaster occurs. We must produce our own food."
Pamela immediately showed a deep expression, she nodded vigorously and said: "Yes, it seems that I really shouldn't delay any longer, but Batman should be very busy, and his brain is more popular than himself.
, there are too many topics waiting for him to participate."
"Food is the most important thing for the people. What problem is as important as the food problem?"
Pamela nodded, showing a thoughtful look, and repeated Schiller's words in a low voice, as if reciting.
And Schiller added the most important sentence.
"Bruce Wayne's unlearned and dissolute behavior made his father very angry, and his bank card was frozen. How long do you think this young man can endure being without money?"
Pamela understood immediately, raised her wine glass and touched it in the air, and both of them showed a tacit smile at the same time.
The dinner soon ended in a harmonious atmosphere. On the way back in the car, Harley tightened the scarf around her neck, looked at Schiller in the passenger seat and asked: "You want Pamela to deal with Bruce? But?
Batman doesn't fall for this easily."
"Of course Batman doesn't, but Bruce does."
Harley and Jason looked at each other and saw the confusion in each other's eyes. They always felt that Schiller had something to say.
The car drove through the streets of Gotham at night. Gotham was still cold and damp at night, and Elliot, disguised as Bruce, had to live in the Kane family's old house on Bliss Street that Thomas had told him before.
.
This is a quite old house. The history can be traced back to when Gotham City was first established. Although the building is old, it looks like no one has lived in it. It is probably because the investment property was not sold at the right time and it has been left until now.
.
Elliott felt sad and angry about his living situation. He had been wanted by the FBI for a long time. The Elliott family's industry had long been annexed by competitors, and most of his private property was divided up by some distant relatives.
.
There were some secret assets that only he knew about and he dared not touch them because Elliott couldn't tell which of them were FBI bait. They often used this trick to catch rich people who had fled.
Elliot originally thought that the years when he was wanted were the bottom of his life. As long as he inherited Bruce's property and status through his appearance, the sky would be high.
But obviously the sky owned by Bruce Wayne is not as vast as Elliot thought. What is even more sad is that Elliot could have stayed in his luxurious manor, drank expensive red wine, and spent a peaceful night.
.
But now, he had to endure the musty smell and moisture in the old house, and couldn't sleep for a long time with his muscles tense on the creaking wooden bed.
Elliot thought, enough is enough, he must find a way to improve his current life.
