"The wealthy people of Gotham still prefer vertical villas these days, preferably with a spacious garage where they can park all their fancy cars," said Shiller.
Gorden looked around. The decoration here was distinctly English in style—silk curtains, knitted carpets, wooden furniture, and a stone fireplace. The fire inside was crackling, offering a warming atmosphere even from a distance.
The dining room of this old manor wasn't too large and the corridors were rather narrow. On the walls even hung some extremely retro metal wall sconces. The overall atmosphere of the building seemed to transport one back to the Victorian period.
Gordon retracted his gaze and commented, "But it looks a lot like you now."
"It's not that I'm particularly fond of the English Manor, but if I were to buy a house in the south, it would be too far from where I work. With Gotham's terrible traffic, I might miss all the morning classes."
Picking up his cup and taking a sip of milk, Gordon said, "Who isn't affected by it? Every time I head to the police station, I'm blocked by those damned people at the central roundabout. You should know, I came in first in my driving class at police training school!"
"This godforsaken place... everyone seems to be on a suicide mission, they never consider that flooring the gas pedal in a roundabout with hundreds of cars present might lead to their suffocation by the airbag deploying?" Gordon argued indignantly.
"I can see that you must have been stuck in traffic for a while," Shiller said with a laugh.
"On my way here, I must have seen about ten potential F1 champions," Gordon remarked, somewhat gloomily.
"Speaking of which, it's also our new director's fault. The lack of personnel in the police station shouldn't result in all traffic police being reassigned! These past few days, my group has also seen quite a few newcomers who know nothing and are eager to rush in guns blazing."
Shaking his head, Gordon said, "It might be better to go back to commanding traffic instead!"
"The improvement in the police's living conditions is also linked to our director, you just have to bear with it."
Setting down his cup and rubbing his hands together, Gordon said with some excitement, "But I can almost afford an apartment near the police station."
"You've saved enough money?"
"Almost. Can you imagine? I made 80,000 US dollars last week. Even if my income isn't as high next week, if I save up a bit more, I'll be able to buy an apartment in cash."
"How did you manage that? The cases last week weren't worth much more than 50,000 US dollars at most," Shiller asked, turning his head as he ate.
Gordon raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh, I forgot, you're not a local. Here in Gotham, protection fees have to be paid wherever you go—even police are not exempted. As the head of the field team, all the police officers below me have to give 15% of their income to me."
"So you just collect it? Like a mob boss?" Shiller joked.
"You don't understand. If you don't collect it, they would get scared. In Gotham, if you take their money, it signifies that you are willing to continue working with them. If you don't, they would worry that business will vanish tomorrow."
"I heard you're about to marry your fiancée? Is she in Gotham right now? When are you planning to hold the wedding?"
Coughing a little, Gordon said, "She's going through the procedures to transfer her job. The handover at her company in Metropolis is tricky and could take at least a week. But this works out well—I get a bit more time to purchase the apartment I've had my eye on and she is in for a surprise."
Shiller rustled the newspaper in his hand, then said as he read, "Have you thought about your wedding gift? I'm quite wealthy now."
"Really? Even wealthier than Wayne?"
Shiller rolled his eyes and said, "If I were wealthier than him, you wouldn't see me here."
"In fact, if I hadn't earned so much money, I wouldn't have thought about getting engaged so soon. I might have been on vacation in Hawaii."
"I thought you were working all year round."
"Come on, I'd go crazy. I need to stay in shape and keep my spirits up to survive in this godforsaken city."
Shiller took a cigar from the box on the table, cut it open with scissors, and passed it to Gordon. After Gordon took it, Shiller struck a match and lit the cigar for him.
Then he took a cigar for himself and lit it. He exhaled a puff of smoke and said, "The Boss hasn't been in a good mood lately. Some reckless folks are trying to cause trouble on his turf."
Gordon stretched his hand that was holding the cigar, switched his posture, and leaned on the chair's armrest with a sigh of relaxation, "Why did you want me to find information on the floating population in Gotham? Is there a problem in Metropolis? I heard that the people trying to mess with the Boss come from there."
"Would you be surprised if I said this trouble was following me?"
"Of course not," Gordon denied without even thinking.
"The first time I met you, I had a feeling— you're someone who likes to stir up major trouble."
"Why?"
"Consider it an investigator's intuition."
"Interesting, could you explain in detail?"
"I've seen many criminals. They're different," said Gordon, straightening his back, resting his forearm on the table, "…completely different. Those petty thieves and serious culprits are entirely distinct."