The cold morning breeze rustled the branches outside the window, and the orange morning light shone through the layers of thick curtains, illuminating the dim room.

The bedroom door was knocked, Schiller turned over, and the servant outside said, "Sir, ten minutes ago, a gentleman named Gordon called you, and I told him that you call him back after getting up."

Schiller said slowly with a hoarse voice: "...I understand."

He sat up from the bed, woke up from his drowsy sleep, then walked to the window and used one hand to clear the curtains on one side. He saw the milkman riding a bicycle dialing bell at the door, and someone soon went out and took the milk jar from him.

This is Gotham, a manor in the West Side, and Schiller's new home in Gotham.

Although the teacher apartment at Gotham University is pretty good, it is indeed time for him to buy his own house.

This is the old town of Gotham City, which is different from the wealthy areas in the south. This was the city established by a group of British nobles when European immigrants arrived in the Americas. Therefore, most of them are traditional British manors. Later, due to the inclined urban planning and the better geographical location in the south, the wealthy areas moved from the west to the south.

Most of the old manors left here have classic English style, but because the descendants of the nobles rarely stay here again, most of these manors are uninhabited. Schiller bought the one that was the best maintained and the decoration style he liked the most at a very good price.

He did not buy a house in the wealthy area in the south, not because he couldn't afford it, but because of a very realistic reason - the manor in the west, closer to his workplace, Gotham University.

If he wanted to work from a wealthy area in the south, he had to drive a car thousands of miles through most of Gotham City.

The worst thing is to pass through the most congested central urban area during peak hours.

Therefore, no matter how luxurious the villa in the wealthy southern area is, it is definitely not within Schiller's choice. He is not Bruce Wayne. If he gets stuck in a traffic jam, he will take a helicopter directly. He doesn't want to spend most of his day on the road.

There is another advantage of choosing an old manor in the West End. There are fewer people here and relatively quiet. There are no cars coming and going early in the morning. Schiller can sleep peacefully on his rest day.

The most important thing is that it is very far from Wayne Manor and the mountain where Bruce wants to build a Bat Cave in the future. If Batman is hit by the Joker in the future, the range will not reach him.

After a while, the servant walked in, opened the curtains and tied them, and said, "Breakfast is ready, sir."

Schiller nodded, took the glasses case he handed over, brought them up, looked down at his watch and said, "When did Gordon call?"

"About 25 minutes ago."

Schiller looked back at the window and went downstairs to have breakfast.

Follow the wooden stairs and walk through a somewhat dark corridor. The restaurant is on the westernmost side of the manor building and walks into the corridor. It is a semicircular dining room with tall arched windows. The dark green silk curtains are hung on both sides of the windows. The silver tableware on the mahogany dining table shines mysteriously in the dim light in the early morning.

The morning light shining in from the arched window fell on the dining table. The squares and round tableware projected by the window formed a painting of light and shadows. Schiller picked up the ironed newspaper from his right hand.

The ink of the printed newspaper was a little dizzy, and the top line read: "On January 25, 1987, it was cloudy and it was raining in the afternoon, Gotham Daily."

While eating breakfast, Schiller searched for the information he needed from the newspaper. The fonts of the newspapers in this era are often printed very small, and the ink is easily blurred into a ball, so he had to use a magnifying glass.

After a while, the servant walked in and said, "Mr. Gordon is here."

Schiller put down the magnifying glass in his hand and looked up. Gordon was wearing a brown windbreaker and a beret. When he walked into the restaurant, he still had an undissipated chill. Seeing Schiller reading the newspaper, Gordon said: "Did you see the news today? The godfather got angry and he did not allow the ships of the metropolitan area to dock at the pier in the east."

"I'm just seeing this part." Schiller shoved his glasses and said, "I stayed up late to write my paper last night and happened to miss your call this morning."

Gordon took off his windbreaker and said, "It's nothing important to me, you know, I'm not busy with work recently, I just want to call to congratulate you on moving to a new home. Oh, by the way, my gift is still in the car..."

"No hurry, have you had breakfast? Why not sit down and have something together?"

While handing the off-lifted coat to the servant, Gordon said, "I went to the bureau this morning and had eaten it. I brought you the information you asked me to find."

As he said that, he put a black briefcase on the table and began to search, then took out a document from it and handed it to Schiller.

Schiller said: "Thank you for your hard work. Even if you have eaten it, let's have a cup of hot milk."

Gordon did not refuse, and sat at the dining table and said, "I was a little surprised at first when you said you would take over Viscount Bernard's manor. After all, there are not many people who like this old-school manor now."

"Now rich people in Gotham still prefer that kind of vertical villa. It is better to have a large garage so that they can park all their luxury cars."

Gordon looked around and found that the decoration here was the most typical British style, with silk curtains, knitted carpets, wooden furniture, and a stone fireplace. The flames inside were crackling, and even if they were not approached, they could feel a warmth.

The restaurant in the old manor is not too big, the corridor is relatively narrow, and you can even see extremely retro metal walled candlesticks on the walls. The atmosphere in the entire building seems to have traveled back to the Victorian era.

Gordon retracted his gaze and said, "But now it looks like you."

"It's not that I have a special liking for Ying's Manor, but if I buy a house in the south, it's too far from where I work, and the poor traffic conditions in Gotham might make me miss all the classes in the morning."

Gordon picked up the cup and took a sip of milk and said, "Who isn't it? Every time I go to work at the police station, I'm blocked by the damn people in the center turntable. You know, I won the first place in the driving class of the police training school!"

"Everyone is a damn ghost place. They never think about it. In a turntable with hundreds of cars moving forward at the same time, stomping the accelerator to the bottom may cause them to be suffocated by the airbags that popped up!" Gordon said angrily.

"You can see that you should have been blocked for a while just now." Schiller said while laughing.

"Along the way, I saw at least ten talented racers who could win the F1 championship." Gordon said a little depressed.

"Speaking of this, it's also our new director who has not enough staff in the police station and cannot transfer all the traffic police, right? Several newcomers have been transferred to my team these days. They don't know anything and want to rush up with guns."

Gordon shook his head and said, "It's better to go back and direct their traffic!"

"The policeman's life is better, and he can't get along with this director, so you can bear it."

Gordon put down his cup and rubbed his hands, and said excitedly: "But I'm about to buy an apartment next to the police station."

"Have you saved enough money?"

"It's almost done, can you imagine? I made $80,000 last week. Even if I don't have such a high income next week, as long as I save another one, I can buy an apartment in full."

"Why are there so many cases? Last week's cases shouldn't be too many, at most only $50,000, right?" Schiller turned to ask him while eating.

Gordon raised his eyebrows and said, "Oh, I forgot, you are not a local. No matter where Gotham goes, he will have to pay protection fees, and the same goes for the police. I am now the head of the field team, and all the policemen below will give me 15% of their income."

"So you took it? Like a gangster boss?" Schiller joked.

"If you don't know where to go, they will be scared if you don't accept it, because in Gotham, if you collect their money, it means you are willing to take them to continue working. If you don't accept it, they will worry that the business will be gone tomorrow."

"I heard that you are going to marry your fiancée? Is she in Gotham now? When are you planning to hold a wedding?"

Gordon coughed and said, "She is undergoing the transfer procedures for work. It is very troublesome to hand over the company in the Metropolitan area. It will take at least a week. But it's fine, I can have some time to buy the apartment I'm optimistic about and give her a surprise."

Schiller shook the newspaper in his hand, then looked and said, "Have you decided to ask for any wedding gift? I'm very rich now."

"Is that? More richer than Wayne?"

Schiller rolled his eyes and said, "If I had more money than him, you wouldn't have seen me here."

"Actually, if I hadn't earned so much money, I wouldn't have wanted to get engaged so soon. Maybe I'd already been on vacation in Hawaii now."

"I thought you were all year round."

"Come on, then I'll go crazy. I need to have a good body and a good mood to live for a long time in this damn city."

Schiller took out a cigar from the cigar box on the table, picked up the scissors and cut it open, and handed it to Gordon. Gordon took it. Schiller took the match handed over by the man's servant, lit one, and lit Gordon's cigarette.

Then he took a tiny point himself, and he spat out a sip of smoke and said, "The Godfather is in a bad mood recently. Some bold and arrogant people want to come to his territory to play wild."

Gordon stretched out his hand holding the cigar, changed his position, leaned against the armrest of the chair, sighed comfortably, and said, "Why did you ask me to check the information about Gotham's migrant population? Is there something wrong with the Metropolis? I heard that those people who caused the Godfathers came from Metropolis."

"Would you be surprised if I said it was a trouble with me?"

"Of course not." Gordon denied it almost without thinking.

"When I first met you, I felt that you must be someone who can cause big trouble."

"Why?"

"You can think of it as a detective's intuition."

"Interesting, can you explain in detail?"

"I've seen many criminals, they're different..." Gordon stood up and supported his wrist on the table, saying, "...It's completely different, those stupid thieves are completely different from real serious criminals."

"I have never heard any serial murderer yelling at a judge or speaking rudely. They have a different temperament than ordinary people..."

"When you face Batman, I always feel like you are looking in the mirror."

"Do you think I look very similar to him? Are you serious?"

"Some places are completely different, but some places are surprisingly consistent."

Schiller looked at Gordon and said, "Keep this sharp, you will become Gotham's savior."

Gordon knocked ash on the silver plate and said, "The godfather is not easy to deal with this time. The group of people who were infiltrated seemed to have some tricks. They killed two bartenders of the Falcone family. If the godfather didn't catch them in a short period of time and lost face in Gotham, it would be more serious than anything else."

"The gangsters probably won't dare to provoke the godfather in a short period of time, right?" Schiller put down the newspaper and leaned back on the back of the chair.

"It's hard to say, don't underestimate those people. Don't forget that Maroni is not dead yet, and he has made a lot of money in the conflict in the East District, perhaps he is planning to challenge the godfather."

"He is looking for death." As the smoke fell, Schiller stretched out his hand and flicked the cigar with his fingertips. The fine dust slowly fell.

"Not necessarily, the godfather somehow passed him and killed the old director Victor. I heard that he wanted to get a kick in the Arkham Hospital, but he was kicked out by the godfather. Maroni couldn't help but breathe."

"The East District is not peaceful, and Maroni is eager to suppress the forces he has recruited. He needs to win battles to establish his authority and completely collect the fresh blood he has just absorbed."

"He dares to use his godfather to establish his authority, Falcone will let him understand." Schiller leaned against the back of the chair, and he pulled the collar of his sweater, looking very relaxed.

Gordon coughed twice again, and through the smoke coming out of the top of the cigar, he narrowed his eyes and stared at the reflection on the silver plate, saying, "Maroni is a powerful figure, and the godfather is old."

"Do you prefer him?"

"No, I hope the old godfather can win. As long as Falcone is still there, Gotham will be in a mess, and once he is gone, it will be hard to say."

Soon, Gordon left. After all, he still has work to work. It is his peak season recently. If you work hard for another month, it will be no problem to buy a villa.

After Gordon left, Schiller leaned on the back of the chair and sucked the entire cigar. The smoke lingered around his fingertips. It had been a long time since he thought so relaxed.

In this city full of crisis, if safety is not confirmed, he doesn't even have a cigarette to rest.

Before this, Schiller never thought of buying a house and did not need a home, because he was not a Gotham man, he came from the safest orderly country in the world.

With the burning of cigars, smoke that was several times more intense than cigarettes drifted into various uncertain abstract shapes, making people feel countless associations. In the psychedelic and sweet smell, Schiller began to recall.
To be continued...