In the afternoon, just as the weather forecast in the newspaper said, it started to drizzle in Gotham.
Schiller was sitting in the study room of the manor, and the sound of rain outside the window was like the best sleeping pill.
A pile of books on some messy desks left undulating shadows under the illumination of the wall lamp. The reflection of the ink bottle and Schiller lenses looked particularly bright in the somewhat dark room. He was holding a pen and using a complicated
Invitation letters written in gorgeous floral English.
The customs are almost the same all over the world. When you move, you always have to notify your relatives and friends to come over as guests. Schiller plans to invite his few friends in Gotham to come over for dinner this weekend.
The rain outside the window is getting heavier and heavier, and some moist air enters the room along the cracks in the window. In the light of the light, you can see fine water vapor slowly falling on the table. Soon, a lot of condensation formed on the part of the desk near the window sill.
The tiny water droplets reflected the firelight of the fireplace behind, like rubies.
The sky gradually darkened, and the fog, which was colder than during the day, condensed a layer of white frost on the glass. Schiller put down his pen, rubbed his wrist, and looked up.
Looking at the entire Gotham from this angle, there is no difference, except that Gotham in the rain is not only more gloomy, but also quieter, and even makes people feel a little rare and leisurely.
In any case, the pace of cities in the 1980s was always much slower than that of the later information society. Schiller wrote letters all afternoon and did not leave the study until the valet came to remind him that it was dinner time.
After dinner, Schiller got dressed, took an umbrella, and left the house. At this time, the rain that had been falling in Gotham all afternoon had stopped, leaving only the cold moist air that he breathed into his lungs, still permeating the city.
among.
The puddles on the ground are like mercury mirrors in the dark, reflecting the light of the street lamp into golden fragments, like the fallen leaves that were not taken away last autumn. After Schiller stepped on the heel, this light shone slightly.
Lost in waves and splashes of water.
Just like the custom all over the world, when you move, you always have to visit your neighbors.
The public security here is pretty good, because anyone who can afford to live in and maintain such a manor is either rich or noble. Although it is not as prosperous as the wealthy areas in the south, the declining old city still has a kind of
Slow-paced, old-school style.
There was an opera house a street away from the manor where Schiller lived, but there were few theater groups performing here, so it became a club for the residents of this area.
Schiller walked to the door of the theater. The waiters here were obviously not that professional. When Schiller reached the door steps, they stepped forward and opened the door. Schiller took off the hat on his head and walked in.
Although it was a cold rainy night outside, it was very warm inside the theater. Schiller's glasses were covered with fog. He took off his glasses, walked to the front desk, and tapped the tabletop gently.
The foreman, who was dozing off, was in a trance. When he raised his eyelids and saw someone, he sat up straight and asked, "Do you have an appointment?"
"I am the new resident who bought the Viscount Manor. All the drinks consumed here today will be charged to my account. God bless everyone."
The foreman immediately became enthusiastic and said: "It turns out to be you. I just received the news yesterday that the largest Viscount Manor has a new owner. Your vision is really unique. It is such a luxurious manor that is worthy of it."
I deserve such a generous gentleman like you."
"Don't worry, when everyone comes out later, they will all know that you are a gentleman who is easy to get along with."
Listening to the compliments that kept coming out of the foreman's mouth, Schiller calmly placed a roll of dollars under the bell. The foreman immediately said: "You don't have to care about the appearance of this building, after all, this is Gotham."
It is normal for the oldest theater to be a little dilapidated, but our service must be the best..."
When Schiller walked down the steps of the theater, he looked back at this possibly the oldest theater in Gotham. It was already covered with traces of vicissitudes of life. Many years ago, this place also welcomed one after another.
Well-known theater troupes and countless actors perform here. You sing and I take the stage.
But now, it is completely deserted. The old facade is like a stone tablet recording the history of Gotham, carving the traces of wind, frost, rain and snow. It may be more exciting than those fabricated dramas, but not many people are willing to watch it anymore.
After Schiller returned to the manor, it was already very late, but he still had some unfinished writing last night.
Thanks to this slow-paced era, Schiller doesn't have to be wary of any text messages or phone calls. He has enough time to read slowly, find the knowledge he needs from paper materials, and then use it.
The pen writes them onto the paper.
Suddenly there was a soft sound behind him, and without looking back, Schiller said: "Gordon came to visit. At least he brought a gift. What about you? An uninvited bat?"
Batman's shadow was cast in multiple shadows by the wall lamp, and he said, "I'll send it to you during the day."
"Gordon is getting married soon. Aren't you going to give him a gift as this weirdo in tights? After all, he is your partner."
"I don't have any gifts to give." Batman's tone is always very low and gentle, which makes people feel sleepy in this late night room.
"So what are you here for?"
"Come to wish you a new home."
"I think you went through all the rooms in this manor earlier than I did. If nothing else, you should have obtained the architectural design drawings through some means."
Batman didn't answer. He seemed to have acquiesced. He never shied away from showing his overly preparedness and suspicion of the world in front of Schiller.
"Did you read today's newspapers? Did you see the news about the Iron Curtain?"
"That has nothing to do with me."
"This is a big deal for the whole world."
"Gotham won't get any better, and it won't get any worse."
Then both of them were silent, leaving only the rustle of Schiller's pen on paper echoing in the quiet room late at night. After a while, Batman said: "The group of people coming from Metropolis should be
Came here to hunt you down."
"Then let them come, or do you think the people in Gotham will be afraid of the people in Metropolis?"
Batman was silent again.
"I assume you had a fight with your butler, right?"
Batman didn't answer, but Schiller said to himself: "There was once a man like this who stayed up most of the night and raced because he had a quarrel with his dear 'butler'."
"Why were they quarreling?"
"Because that person has not thought about whether he wants to marry his butler or not."
Batman was silent again.
"I guess your butler should feel very distressed about your injury, but he doesn't want to stop you from continuing your favorite career, so he can only digest this emotion by himself."
"But you noticed that he seemed to be sad. You didn't want to stop your career, but you also didn't want to make him sad."
"Your extraordinary wisdom and meticulous logic are of no use at this time, so you can only run out and race in the middle of the night."
"Let me guess, your new Batmobile should be parked in front of my house, and the overheated engine probably hasn't cooled down yet."
"Is there really a way to read minds in this world?"
"Stop asking stupid questions like this."
"If so, can you tell me what Alfred thinks?"
"You are much more straightforward than that person, but you are right. In addition to family ties, there is also love that troubles him."
"Love... is the most elusive thing. I offered to tell him the answer, but he refused."
Batman's eyes fell on the ring on Schiller's ring finger, and he asked: "Are you married? Didn't your wife come to Gotham with you?"
"It seems you don't really want that answer."
Schiller said: "Then let's go. You might as well find Gordon to take you in and stay with me. You will only get the answer you don't want to hear."
Batman said: "This manor is indeed very good. There are 36 rooms in total. If you sleep in the master bedroom on the east side upstairs, there are 35 more rooms."
"I won't give you the key."
"I don't need a key."
Schiller put his finger between his eyebrows and said, "But if you don't come home at night, what should I do if your housekeeper comes to see me?"
"Why do you seem to be more afraid of him than me?"
"It's hard to explain to you, but I'm really worried about your butler coming to your door."
Seeing that Batman still didn't give up, Schiller could only say helplessly: "Okay, if you want to stay here, I need your parents' permission. Now go and call him. I have to hear his approval.
Only then can I let you stay here for the night."
Batman: "..."
"The phone is downstairs. Either dial or get out."
In the end, Batman gave in and always behaved like a child when faced with issues related to his butler, just like Stark did when facing Pepper.
Schiller didn't mind Batman staying here for the night. He actually didn't mind Batman checking his new home. Anyway, sooner or later, the day would come. If the 18-year-old Batman didn't check, he would wait until he was 28 and 38.
When he was 18 years old, he was always able to investigate. Nothing in Gotham could escape the eyes of the bat. Schiller was not the Joker, and he did not play the game of chasing and hiding with Batman all day long.
After a while, Schiller finished writing his paper. It was already late at night, and it was already dark outside the window. Only the distant lights were reflected in the puddles formed by the rainwater.
Soon, the valet reminded him that the phone was ringing. Schiller picked up the receiver, and Batman stood in the darkest corner of the living room, listening to him talking on the phone.
"Yes, that's right...it's not troublesome, yes, I know, they are always like this, I've seen a lot of them before..."
"Really? That's quite serious... I have a professional first aid kit here... Oh, really? You are really a responsible housekeeper..."
"I think it doesn't matter..." Schiller raised his head and glanced at Batman. For some reason, Batman felt his heart suddenly jump, just like after being called to find his parents, he was tremblingly trying to get help from his teacher.
The students inferred the level of anger from their parents from their few words.
"Okay, please don't worry... No problem, that's it... tomorrow morning, right?... I think I will, okay... Goodbye."
Schiller saw Batman open his mouth, as if he wanted to ask something, but in the end he didn't ask anything.
Schiller said: "Your butler said you were injured, but he should have treated you."
After speaking, he glanced at the grandfather clock next to him and said: "It's too late now. Your housekeeper said you should go to bed before nine o'clock. It's already more than three hours late. Now take the key and go upstairs quickly."
"I don't need a key."
After leaving his last words, Batman disappeared. Schiller shook his head and went upstairs.
Schiller already knew Batman's true identity, so Batman didn't sleep in the Batsuit. When Schiller knocked on his door, Bruce was wearing pajamas.
Usually, only one chin can be seen in Batman's serious state, but now, Bruce's temperament is completely different from his usual, this is a Batman with his whole face exposed.
But it was of no use. When he heard Schiller telling him that Alfred hoped that he could rush back for breakfast tomorrow morning, he still showed a rather tangled and complicated expression.
"I advise you to go back. If he comes to your door, I will never help you. You must know that teachers will always stand on the same front as parents."
Seeing that Bruce still seemed unhappy, Schiller had to further threaten him and said: "If I really see Alfred tomorrow, then I will have to talk to him about your academic situation and the final exam this time."
, although you barely passed, your ranking is in the middle and lower reaches. More importantly, you missed 6 assignments in one semester, and you didn't write enough words for more than half of them."
"I'll keep all the homework you handed in. If you don't want your housekeeper to see your nonsense articles and academic garbage that are useless except polluting other people's brains, you'd better go to bed quickly and go to bed early tomorrow morning.
Get up and go back to your Wayne Manor."
Then before Bruce could say anything, Schiller closed the door to his room with a bang.
At night, Bruce lay in bed, thinking about what happened recently.
Thanks to Schiller's genius and creative industrial chain, the gangs have been having a lot of conflicts recently, and Batman's job has become difficult.
During the day, he was busy conducting various investigations in the hospital to decipher the intricate relationships between gangs. At night, he had to keep an eye on the scenes of various conflicts to prevent them from getting too involved and causing too much damage.
The police have become much stronger after having heavy weapons, but this does not mean that the gangs have no countermeasures at all. If the police use heavy firepower to suppress them, the gangs will naturally think of using more ferocious firepower to resist. One after another, the scale of the war will be
The constant upgrading also resulted in Batman being involved in some more ferocious fire conflicts before he had time to upgrade his various equipment.
This also leads to the fact that the bat armor, which was originally prepared for some pistol bullets and cold weapons, has no way to protect against fire and damage caused by machine gun grenades.
A few nights ago, Batman was hit by a machine gun bullet. This kind of damage was not comparable to that of a pistol bullet. Each machine gun bullet was as long as the palm of his hand. Fortunately, Batman was only hit on the shoulder.
If it hit him hard, half of his lungs would be completely destroyed.
But it also caused very serious injuries to him. It can be said to be the most serious injury he has suffered during his career as Batman.
When he rushed back to Wayne Manor, he was already unconscious. The fact that he was able to return to Wayne Manor consciously was only because of his extraordinary willpower that saved his life.
Bruce had long known that he was not sensitive to some analgesics and anesthetics, and would often wake up during anesthesia. It was the same this time. In the middle of the operation, he half-asleep saw Alfred sitting alone.
On the edge of the operating table.
It was difficult for him to describe the expression on Alfred's face he saw at that time, which made his heart, which had hardly beat violently for many years, be severely tugged.
He suddenly discovered that Alfred was different from what he remembered. He was much older and seemed much depressed compared to when his parents were still alive.
Only then did he realize a problem. In fact, the death of the Waynes did not only cause harm to him.
And perhaps, when Alfred found out that he almost had to suffer the same injury again, he had become a lot older.
Bruce was lying on the bed, tossing and turning, and his mind was filled with the image of Alfred he saw hazily.
What made him even more sad was that when he woke up from the operation, Alfred didn't say anything. He didn't stop Bruce from doing anything. He just prepared breakfast as usual, just like countless Bruce's nightmares.
It's the same as waking up with a start in the morning.
When sitting at the dining table, Bruce could barely eat. He was Batman, but he was still a human being. Few people could maintain a calm mind while eating when faced with such a strong emotional impact.
So he just took a few hasty bites and left Wayne Manor as if running away.
In fact, the first place he went to was Gordon's place, but he happened to catch up with Gordon and drove off to Schiller's house.
He followed Gordon all the way, and even the whole conversation between them in the restaurant was seen by Batman from the window.
He also saw Schiller sitting alone in a chair and smoking an entire cigar.
That kind of professor made him feel strange. He had never seen Schiller look like this before. He looked very relaxed, but also very cold and sharp. Although Schiller often behaved very seriously in school,
That's completely different.
It was like another person, a stranger.
He thought that maybe the professor he knew before was just a disguise, just like him.
The two lunatics play their respective roles in this crazy city, appearing in a very ordinary social identity, playing the roles of teachers and students who are troubled by trivial daily life.
This may not be "Pride and Prejudice", but "The Actor's Self-cultivation".
In Gotham, a dilapidated and decaying theater corroded by time, on the stage of Gotham University, the first act of this absurd drama seemed weird and funny.
The first teacher Batman met on his first day at school, a teacher who looked stern and old-fashioned, and who didn't seem to want to cause trouble for him at all, gave him the best advice in an unmotivated psychological consultation.
Wanted answer.
And after the dramas came to an end, the two actors finally met each other off the stage.
Regardless of their social identities, the composition of these absurd dramas is not a coincidence. Madmen always attract madmen, and eccentrics often meet eccentrics. This is just another way in which birds of a feather flock together.
Bruce was lying on the bed, and a deep sleep came over him. While he was half asleep, he heard the dull sound of the pendulum downstairs of the manor, which penetrated every part of his dream.
Other than that, on this cold night in Gotham in 1987, the only things that could be heard were the almost inaudible sound of the wind and the sound of the fireplace burning all night long.
