微风吹拂着窗外的树枝沙沙作响.橙色的晨光从厚厚的窗帘中渗入,照亮了昏暗的房间.
卧室的门被敲响,席勒翻了个身.外面的管家说:"先生,戈登先生十分钟前给你打电话.我告诉他,你醒来后会回他的电话.
席勒的声音有些嘶哑,他缓缓地回答道:"...我明白了.
他在床上坐了起来,从睡意中醒来.然后他走到窗前,一只手拉开窗帘的一侧.他看到一个骑着自行车的送奶工在门口按门铃.不久,有人出来从他手中拿走了牛奶瓶.
这是哥谭西区的一座庄园,是席勒在哥谭的新家.
虽然哥谭大学的教职员工公寓还不错,但他觉得是时候买自己的房子了.
这是哥谭市的老城区.与南方的富裕社区不同,这里是由一群从欧洲移民到美国的英国贵族建立的,这就是为什么这里的大多数庄园都具有传统的英式风格.后来,由于城市规划的偏颇和南方较好的地理位置,财富从西向南转移.
这里留下的大部分老庄园都保留了其古典的英式魅力.然而,由于这些贵族的后代选择居住在这里的人数很少,因此这些庄园大多无人居住.席勒设法以合理的价格购买了其中的一个,该城堡维护良好,并以他最喜欢的风格装饰.
他不在富裕的南端买房子.这不是因为他买不起,而是出于一个非常实际的原因——位于西部的庄园离他的工作场所哥谭大学更近.
如果他在南方买了房子,他将不得不开车穿越哥谭市的一半.
最糟糕的部分是不得不在高峰时段穿过拥挤的市中心.
因此,即使是南端最豪华的别墅,也不在席勒的选择范围之内.他不是布鲁斯·韦恩（Bruce Wayne）,他可以随时乘坐直升机.他不想把大部分时间都浪费在路上.
在西方选择一座老式的庄园,也有其优势.这个地方人口较少,相对安静,一大早也没有很多车.席勒可以在休息日安然入睡.
最重要的是,这个地方远离韦恩庄园和布鲁斯计划建造蝙蝠洞的未来地点.如果蝙蝠侠遇到小丑,炸弹的射程不会影响席勒的位置.
过了一会儿,管家走了进来,拉开窗帘,拉上窗帘,说:"早餐准备好了,先生.
席勒点了点头,接过递给他的眼镜盒.他戴上眼镜,看了一眼手表,问道:"戈登什么时候打的电话?
"About 25 minutes ago."
Schiller turns his head and glances at the window once again, then heads downstairs for breakfast.
Going down the wooden stairs and through a slightly dim corridor, he reaches the dining room at the westernmost part of the mansion. It is a semi-circular room with tall arched windows. Dark green silk curtains hang on either side of the windows. The silver cutlery on the mahogany dining table shimmers mysteriously under the soft morning light.
The morning light streams in through the arched windows, creating an interplay of light and shadows with the grid-like patterns and round tableware. Schiller picks up the neatly ironed newspaper from the right side.
The printed ink on the newspaper is slightly smudged, and the top line reads, "January 25, 1987, overcast with afternoon rain, Gotham Daily."
Schiller eats breakfast while searching for the information he needs from the newspaper. The fonts in newspapers of this era are often printed small, and the ink can easily smear, so he has to use a magnifying glass.
After a while, the butler walks in and says, "Mr. Gordon is here."
Schiller puts down the magnifying glass and looks up. Gordon is wearing a brown trench coat and a beret. As he walks into the dining room, he still carries the outside coldness, and he sees Schiller reading the newspaper. Gordon asks, "Have you seen today's news? The Godfather is furious. He doesn't allow the Metropolis ships to dock at the Eastern Harbor anymore."
"I was just reading this part." Schiller pushes his glasses up, "I stayed up late last night working on my paper and missed your call this morning."
Gordon takes off his coat and says, "It's nothing urgent, you know. My workload has been light recently; I just wanted to congratulate you on your new home. Oh, by the way, my gift is still in the car..."
"No rush. Have you had breakfast? Why don't you sit down and have something together?"
Gordon hands his coat to the butler and replies, "I already went to my office this morning and had my breakfast. The information you asked me is here."
With that, he places a black briefcase on the table and starts searching inside, then takes out a document and hands it to Schiller.
Schiller suggests, "Thank you so much. Even if you've had it, how about a cup of hot milk?"
Gordon doesn't refuse again. He sits down at the table and sips, "At first, I was a bit surprised when you said you wanted to take over Lord Bernard's manor. There aren't many people these days who like these old-fashioned estates."
"Nowadays, Gotham's rich ones prefer vertical mansions, which with a large garage to park all their luxury cars are better."
Gordon looks around. The decoration here is the most typical English style. Silk curtains, knitted carpets, wooden furniture, and a stone fireplace with crackling flames. Even without getting close, one can feel a warmth.
The dining room of the old manor is not very large, and the corridor is relatively narrow. On the walls, one can even see extremely vintage metal wall sconces. The atmosphere of the entire building feels like a trip back to the Victorian era.
Gordon brings his gaze back and praises, "But now it seems that this place suits you very well."
"It's not that I have a particular fondness for English estates. Only if I bought a house in the south, it would be too far from campus. Gotham's terrible traffic might make me miss all my morning classes."
Gordon takes a sip of milk and smiles, "Who doesn't feel the same? Every time I go to work, I get blocked by those bastards at the central ring. Ahh, I came first in the driving course at the police training school!"
"This damn place, everyone here drives like a madman. They don't consider others.While hundreds of cars are moving, step on the accelerator might make them killed by the airbags!"
"It's clear that you were also stuck in traffic for a while." Schiller says with a smile.
"On the way here, I saw at least ten F1 championship-level genius drivers." Gordon complains somewhat frustrated.
"Well, it's all because of our new commissioner. The police department is short-handed, but they can't just take all the traffic officers away, right? These days, several newcomers have joined my team. They know nothing,only want to shoot gangsters ."
Gordon shakes his head, "They might as well go back to directing traffic!"
"The life of a cop has improved, and it's also related to this new commissioner. Just bear with it." Schiller jokes.
Gordon puts down his cup and rubs his hands, sounding excitedly, "But soon, I'll be able to have an apartment near the police station."
"Have you saved enough money?"
"I'm almost there! Can you imagine? I made $80,000 last week alone! Even if I don't have such high income next week, as long as I save a bit more, I'll be able to pay in full for an apartment."
"How did you make it? Last week, there shouldn't have been so many cases, at most around $50,000, right?" Schiller asks, turning his head while eating.
Gordon raises an eyebrow, "Oh, I forgot, you're not a local. Wherever you go in Gotham, you have to pay protection money, including the police. I'm now the head of the field team, and all the guys under me have to give me 15% of their income."
"So, you take it? Like a mafia boss?" Schiller jests.
"You don't understand. If you don't take it, they'll feel scared. Because in Gotham, if you take their money, it means you allow them following yourself. If you don't, they'll worry that this business will disappear tomorrow."
"I heard ,you and your girlfriend are getting married? Is she in Gotham now? When are you planning to have the wedding?" Schiller asks, chuckling.
Gordon coughs and replies, "She's in the process of transferring. It's quite troublesome to handle the handover at the company in Metropolis; maybe it will take at least a week. But not bad, I can have some time to buy the apartment I've picked up on and give her a surprise."
Schiller shakes the newspaper in his hand and says as he reads, "Have you thought about what wedding gift you want? I have a lot of money now."
"Oh really? More than Wayne?"
Schiller rolls his eyes and snorts, "If I'm richer than him, you wouldn't see me here."
"Actually, if it weren't for me making so much money, I wouldn't have thought about getting married so soon. We might already be on vacation in Hawaii by now."
"I thought you never took a break."
"Oh no, I would go crazy if I didn't. I need to have a good body and a good mood to survive in this damn city."
Schiller takes a cigar out of the cigar box on the table, cuts it open with scissors, and hands it to Gordon. Gordon takes it over and Schiller takes a match from the servant and lights it for him.
Then he hands one for himself, exhales a puff of smoke, and mentions, "The Godfather is unhappy. Some daring want to make a mess on his property."
Gordon extends his hand holding the cigar, changes his position, leans against the armrest of the chair, and sighs comfortably,"Why did you ask me to investigate Gotham's flowing population? Is something wrong in Metropolis? I heard, the troublemakers for the Godfather came from Metropolis."
"If I tell you that those men follows me, would you be surprised?"
"No, not at all." Gordon denies it almost without thinking.
"I had a feeling when I first saw you. You must be someone who can cause big trouble."
"Why?"
"You could call it a detective's intuition."
"Interesting, can you explain further?"
"I've met many criminals, they're different..." Gordon straightens up, leans his wrist on the table, and continues, "...completely different. Those dumb thieves are completely different from real serious criminals."
"I have never heard any serial killer shouting at a judge or being disrespectful. They have a different feeling..."
"When you face Batman, I always feel like you're looking in the mirror."
"Do you think I'm similar to him? Are you serious?"
"Some things are completely different, but in some ways surprisingly similar."
Schiller looks at Gordon and claims, "Keep your instinct, and you will be Gotham's savior."
Gordon taps on the silver plate with the cigar ashes, then says, "The Godfather is having a hard time this time. It seems those infiltrators have some tricks up their sleeves. They killed two bartenders from the Falcone family. If the Godfather doesn't catch them quickly, he will lose face in Gotham, which is worse than anything."
"The gangsters wouldn't dare to provoke the Godfather in such a short time, would they?" Schiller puts down the newspaper and leans back on the chair.
"It's hard to say, don't underestimate these people. Remember, Maroni hasn't died yet. He made a fortune in the conflicts in the East. Maybe he's planning to challenge the Godfather."
"He overreach himself." Smoke falls as the words land. Schiller stretches out his hand, flicks the cigar with his fingertips, and watches the fine dust slowly fall.
"Not necessarily, the Godfather let him go for some reason, and someone killed Commissioner Victor. I heard he wanted to get involved in Arkham Asylum, but the Godfather kicked him out. Maroni couldn't go quietly."
"The East is out of order. Maroni is eager to suppress those forces he has subsumed. He needs a victory to establish his authority and fully absorb the fresh blood he just got."
"If he dares to use the Godfather, Falcone will let him know." Schiller leans back on the chair, pulling at the collar of his sweater, looking relaxed.
Gordon coughs twice again. Through the smoke from the end of his cigar, he squints at the reflection on the silver platter and says, "Maroni is strong, and the Godfather is already old."
"Do you have more confidence in him?"
"No, on the contrary, I hope the old Godfather can win. As long as Falcone exists, Gotham won't be caught into chaos. But once he's gone, it's hard to say."
Soon, Gordon leaves. He has work to do. It's his busy season, and with one more month of hard work, buying a villa would be no problem.
After Gordon leaves, Schiller leans back on the chair and finishes the whole cigar. Smoke surrounds his fingertips. It has been a long time since he has relaxed and thought like this.
In this city full of crises, he doesn't even have time to rest with a cigar if there is no guarantee of safety.
Before this, Schiller had never thought about buying a house or needing a home. Because he was not a local, he came from one of the safest countries in the world.
With the burning of the cigar, the smoke, much denser than a cigarette, disperses into various unpredictable abstract shapes, evoking countless associations. In that hallucination mixed with a sweet fragrance, Schiller begins to reminisce.
He can't quite remember whether the overwhelming emotion that arose on his first encounter with a shooting in Chicago, after leaving his homeland, was shock or excitement.
He only remembers, when the plane was crashing, memories of his life accompanied by weightlessness and lack of oxygen blended into a hazy mist. As they dissipate with death, when those memories disappear with death,numerous secrets are buried forever.
If there truly is a god in this world, Schiller thinks, this great being capable of giving people a second chance at life really understands him.
Gotham is the sewer of evil in the world, and good people wouldn't be flushed into the sewer.
Schiller looks at the end of the cigar between his fingertips, where the flame gradually extinguishes. The smoke starts to thin, and the patterns it transforms into slowly dissipate.
He knows that when he regains consciousness and learns from the original host's memories that this is Gotham City, the excitement that initially filled his mind will eventually destroy all his hopes for a peaceful life.
Or perhaps, the enjoyment of mundane and ordinary daily life, which he has so desperately yearned for, is nothing but self-deception of a madman who excels in self-hypnosis, until he witnesses the appearance of Batman.
With the dispersing smoke, Schiller recalls the feeling when he first used his faint telepathic ability to connect with Batman's inner thoughts.
Just as Gordon has said, he feels like he is looking in a mirror.
So, he gives Batman the answer he most wants to hear and almost eagerly puts an end to the monotonous and desperate life, drawing a conclusion.
And now, he finally becomes one of Gotham, on this winter day in 1987, which marks the first birthday of his second life.