"So, the Father noticed my uniqueness, recommended me to the Godfather, and had him hire me, Evans, as a private tutor, in order to solve Evans' problem?"
"Neither Carmine nor I could be certain whether the Court of Owls is still monitoring Evans. But now it seems our suspicions were correct, they are still relentless, still considering Evans as a key figure in the Water Source Project."
Father Daniel sighed, "This generation of the Court of Owls is far less subtle than the previous one. They're hasty, leaving too many loose ends. I've lived in that cathedral for decades, and I know every brick and tile."
"The freeze that hit Gotham was not powerful enough to crack the ground of the cathedral that widely. They were just controlling Alberto, testing whether the Dionysium had matured."
"Seems like the blow Batman and I dealt to the Owls did not force them to step back."
"That move was actually quite effective." Father Daniel paused and said: "It should be said that it was the most effective instance in decades."
"But it's still not enough. Do you remember when I told you that both Carmine and I didn't know the answer? That wasn't just talk."
"The Court of Owls may be an important piece of the puzzle, but not the entire picture, not even the king and queen."
"Carmine and I spent our whole lives without discerning the dark truth."
Falcone shook his head as the firelight of his cigar gradually went out, plunging the old theater deeper into darkness. He said, "It's true that I couldn't find them, didn't get the opportunity. There's definitely something else behind the Court of Owls."
"If that real string-puller continues to exist, killing any number of Owls will be useless."
"I see the potential to find the real culprit in you and Batman." Falcone looked at Schiller, his eyes shadowed and obscure, he said, "Therefore, I wanted to establish a secret meeting, but the real purpose is not to combat the Court of Owls, but the darkness behind them or similar organizations."
Schiller closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. With a touch of emotion, he said, "I knew anyone who had lived in Gotham for decades would have some suspicion about this, but I didn't expect that you guys would be so persistent."
"We don't care where you come from, or the secrets that you bear." Father Daniel turned toward Schiller. His eyes didn't hold the sharpness of Falcone, but retained a steady and compassionate look. He said, "If you or someone else one day find the truth, please don't forget –"
"Many people have fought for this city, but most of them did not succeed. People who don't belong to Gotham will eventually leave."
"A lawyer friend once told me, you don't have to get to the end to win in this world."
"Alright, we've told our stories. Now, it's your turn." Father Daniel looked at the stage and smiled, saying, "Our play is called 'Easter', and you named your drama 'The Resurrection of the Clown'. Is there any special meaning behind this? Can you tell us?"
"The thing under Gotham Cathedral is not called a Dionysium pool, but the Dionysus Factor; indeed it can grant eternal life."
Schiller uttered these surprising words, causing both Falcone and Daniel to turn towards him. Schiller paused, then continued, "But it's not an antidote, but a poison, the deadliest poison in the world."
"It can create the world's craziest madmen, I'd rather call it – the Blood of Lunatics."
"From the sound of it, you seem quite familiar with it."
"Gotham isn't the only place in the world that possesses such a thing."
"I almost forgot your background. Have you seen this elsewhere? You previously told me you were confident in ensuring the safety of Evans. I hope you weren't deceiving me."
"Of course not, Godfather, don't worry. All of this needs to begin with Evans seeking me out."
"When he came to ask for my help, he seemed very troubled about his relationship with his father. I think Alberto was about to be resurrected then, so I gave him some advice, allowing him to take some measures to hide in the insane asylum."
"Even though I told him it was to show a compromising attitude to ease his relationship with his father, in reality, I wanted to observe him long-term. I needed some more definitive evidence."
"You sensed something was wrong at that point?"
Schiller shook his head, "I had some intuitions, but no evidence. There was nothing abnormal about Evans at that point, but my instincts told me something was off."
"Therefore, I brought him to Arkham Mental Hospital, where I was working, and had him share a room with a smart guy."
"After those few huge rainfalls, his symptoms must have become quite pronounced, right?"
"Yes..." Schiller's voice gradually fell into the memory as well, the three of them looked at the stage.
In the pitch-black sickroom, the moonlight seeping through the window scattered on the floor. The metal of the bedrail was slightly gleaming. Schiller stood in front of Evans' bed, staring at him as if sensing his emotions.
Falcone asked Schiller, "After you were sure about this, what did you do?"
"In fact, I did nothing because I knew he would eventually expose himself. And sure enough..."
The old curtain of the theatre closed once again, and as it reopened, a gust of dust rose. The scene on the stage changed to Sheldon's office.
Schiller was backing in front of Sheldon's desk, he forcibly pried open the bottom drawer, which was full of cassette tapes.
"What is that?" Father Daniel asked with curiosity.
"Those are the recordings he left after wiretapping my phone calls. Since he's dead, these recordings are no use anymore; it's best if I retrieve them."
Sitting on the chair closest to the stage, the light from Sheldon's office once again reflected off Schiller's glasses. After that, he stood up from Sheldon's desk, took a tape recorder from the cabinet, found a blank cassette, and recorded his voice.
"Their goods from Plantation No.9 use Old Wilkin's route, directly across the three streets in the east end. The quantity is too large, so the delivery point is set up in the basement of a nightclub. If you need it, I can call him in..."
"You're worried about this? No need. As far as I know, the underground chemical plant in the West District also belongs to Falcone..."
Shiller crouched back down and placed the tape in the side slot of the top drawer.
Hearing his name, Falcone chuckled, saying, "Don't tell me you're trying to scare off the cops with tired old tricks."
"On the contrary, the police might be deterred by the name of Godfather, but there's one person who wouldn't be. I'm merely providing him with clues on a silver platter."
Then, Shiller fixed his eyes on the scene on the stage: "I had to wait a long time before Alberto finally slipped up. Maybe he was dissatisfied with Sheldon's indecisiveness, overly confident of winning, or wanted to silence Sheldon."
"Alberto must have found an excuse to have a private talk with Sheldon, and pushed him out of the building at an opportune moment."
"But still, he was not thorough enough. If I hadn't cleaned up after him, not only Batman but even the police could have found something."
The stage showed Victor pushing open a corridor window. He glanced down and saw Sheldon's body and hurriedly rushed down.
If he had looked up, he could have seen Shiller busying himself above.
"Alberto did one thing right. He had Sheldon call Victor over in advance, timing it just right so that Victor became a witness and a suspect, diverting the police's gaze."
"At that time, I didn't know Victor would come. If I knew that Victor was going to call me over with one phone call, I wouldn't have gone back to the mental hospital. I would have simply waited next to the administrative building."
"The mental hospital is far from Gotham University. How did you make a round trip in only a few minutes?"
"That does not matter."
Seeing Shiller's reluctance to answer, Falcone didn't ask further.
"Later, during the police hearing, I had to propose another possibility to mislead the police and keep them out of the way. After all, it was time for Batman to take the stage."
"When the patients started going mad, did you guess it was due to the effect of the Dionysium?"
"No," denied Shiller. "In fact, I didn't draw any hasty conclusions before personally encountering the substance."
"But Alberto gave me a clue that made me certain the substance was the same as the one in the patients' blood. Then I knew what it was."
"So, what did you do?"
Shiller shrugged and nonchalantly said, "I gave him an Easter gift."
Moonlight spilling through the theater window projected onto the old curtain. As the curtain slowly closed and reopened, the stage gradually expanded. The aroma of rich wine filled the Gotham Cathedral.
Batman glanced around; he heard mad cries from the dark alley nearby, like a hymn for a newborn ceremony.
After that round of mad laughter, Batman saw a figure rising from the green pool. With a crazy smile, it looked like a demon freshly born from Hell.
Batman's muscles tensed. He was clear that the previous explosion was powerful enough to kill Alberto. Now that Alberto crawled out of the pool again, it was clear that there was something wrong with the green water in the pool. Perhaps a monster was born in there.
Alberto, who had crawled out, had wet, golden hair plastered on his forehead. He was dreadfully pale with a grin, his green eyes fully occupied by insanity.
Batman took out his Batman dart again and cocked his gun. He was ready for a tough fight, but the turn of events still exceeded his expectations.
After the strong wine fragrance spread, countless mad laughter echoed in the streets around the church. Then, one after another, mad figures flocked toward the cathedral.
Batman looked around. There were at least a hundred people, each of them like Alberto, with a mad smile on their faces, approaching him like zombies.
"I told you." Alberto's voice was unbearably hoarse, like a knife sawing through wood: "I've been resurrected, destined to live forever…"
While Batman remained silent and watched him, another familiar voice sounded from behind.
"Do you feel anything special, Batman?"
Upon turning around, Batman found, unsurprisingly, that it was Shiller Rodriguez, the man who insisted on calling himself an ordinary psychology professor.
Batman took a deep breath and said, "Don't tell me this is your doing again..."
"You need to answer my question first. What do you think of him?"
Batman turned back to Alberto and inquired, "What do you mean?"
"Hmm... do you remember his laughter?"
"No, what does that mean?"
"It seems he is not the opponent you were destined to meet," Shiller said regretfully.
"What?" Batman turned to the professor who had sidled up beside him. Shiller continued, "If you feel nothing special when facing him, it means he is not the one you're destined to fight."
"Batman," Shiller's tone became serious: "If one day, insane laughter resonates in your heart, that would mean you've found the right person."
"As for this one…" Shiller glanced at Alberto and concluded:
"He messed up my Easter gift. Now, go beat him up."