Chapter 4: Welcome to Gotham

Schiller woke up and instantly knew he was back in the simple and rustic city of Gotham. The smell of kerosene in the air and the consistently overcast sky outside his window confirmed he had once again crossed over.

Time hadn't moved since he left, and Schiller let out a sigh. He didn't know which was more dangerous, the peaceful and simple Gotham or the bustling and central New York City. Having thought it through, Schiller had to admit that although New York was enjoyable, Gotham was his forever home. At least the universe mode wasn't activated yet, and Schiller was unable to handle Purple Potato King for the time being.

He got up, got dressed and left his apartment. Gotham University required their professors to wear formal attire, so Schiller wore a shirt, vest, and suit each day, sometimes changing things up with a different suit style or an overcoat.

The September weather in Gotham was nice and not too cold, probably because it was a coastal city with a light breeze blowing through the city that made it quite warm.

As soon as he stepped out of his apartment, he saw someone he really didn't want to see - Bruce Wayne.

Schiller turned around and started to walk back.

Bruce quickly caught up with him and said, "Professor! Professor! I have some questions about psychology that I'd like to ask you. Can you spare a moment?"

Schiller grumbled inwardly. Many other professors lived near his apartment, but he couldn't just refuse Bruce since he was a student. He could only say, "Okay, okay, I'm not deaf, Mr. Wayne. Let's go to the counseling room first."

The two of them entered the counseling room, where Bruce didn't sit down but instead went to make coffee and put it in front of Schiller. He said, "Schiller Andre Rodriguez, world-famous criminal psychologist, holder of four psychology-related doctorates, involved in the investigations and solving of the famous massacres in Stronghold City, Emperor City's Red Glove serial killings, and the dismemberment case in Seaside City. And, most importantly, four months ago, you unexpectedly quit halfway through the proceedings of the Deputy Mayor of Metropolis and accepted a job offer from Gotham University."

"Professor Schiller, can you tell me why you came to Gotham?"

Schiller was taken aback by the question. Holy cow, with this kind of record, the previous owner could have been sent straight to the Arkham Asylum! You're even more capable than the Joker! And you didn't just participate in one such terrifying case, but a string of them! Bruce must be holding back!

Schiller cursed inwardly, but maintained his composure on the surface. He took a sip of coffee and said, "Gotham is a great city."

"Is it? The city with the highest crime rate in America?"

"That's not important."

"Oh?"

"Metropolis has a low crime rate, child. Do you think Metropolis is safer than Gotham?"

"Isn't it?"

"At least not for me," Schiller said.

Schiller had come here inheriting the knowledge and abilities of his previous owner, but he suspected that the previous owner had already lost some crucial memories before he crossed over. At least now Schiller couldn't remember any details about those terrifying cases, just some vague shadows that were too fuzzy to recall.

Schiller knew that the previous owner had been involved in an indescribably complex case and had then been set up.

"You see only the surface of safety, Mr. Wayne. Behind the bright and shiny facade of Metropolis, there is a darkness that you can hardly imagine," Schiller said, "So why did you come to Gotham?"

"... I think you've checked my record, but it's still not detailed enough. I've offended too many people, and only here is safe."

"Why is that?"

"Only criminals can deal with other criminals," Schiller said.

Bruce Wayne seemed shaken by this statement. "Only criminals can deal with other criminals? Is that how you feel, Professor?"

"Bruce, let's change the subject," Schiller said.

Bruce looked at him with eyes as dark as the Gotham sky. Schiller realized that he was no longer dealing with the carefree playboy Bruce, but with Batman, one of the most complex superheroes in history, a dark hero, a genius on the verge of madness and separated from the insane by a thin line.

"If you want to get more from me, you must pay a price," Schiller said.

"What do you want?" Bruce asked.

"What I want, you can't give me now. You should understand what I mean," Schiller said.

"Then can I give it to you later?" Bruce asked.

"You definitely can," Schiller replied.

Bruce's expression became more subdued. Nobody could tell what he was thinking. He said, "Professor Schiller, unfortunately, there is a little something in your coffee that I made myself, a nanovirus..."

"Bruce, dishonesty won't get you more from me, child. This is not a trick to get candy," Schiller said.

"It seems that today I'm destined to come back empty-handed," Bruce said.

"Not necessarily," Schiller said.

"I hope you can give me a good enough grade on my final exams, Bruce, to prove that you have the heart to learn this skill, and then come back to me," Schiller said.

"I won't waste any more time here," Bruce said.

"You are far from being a teacher, Bruce. You are still a student," Schiller said.

"I have learned all the knowledge and skills in the world, hundreds of combat skills, detective work, lock picking, and counter-surveillance..."

"Except Gotham. You haven't learned Gotham yet," Schiller said.

Bruce fell silent. Schiller had already seen that Bruce was not yet the later dark hero Batman. Indeed, the thought of revenge and dispensing justice had always been in his heart, perhaps even a darker side, but he still did not fully understand Gotham, this hell of humanity, and what it was really about.

Bruce wanted to use everything he could, like this Professor Schiller.

Batman was a hero with almost no weaknesses, wise, cautious, meticulous, and on par with gods as a mortal. But the premise was that he had to put on that bat suit and become a dark knight that spread fear in the darkness, putting Gotham, along with all its evil, in his pocket and preparing himself to fight against all the dirty aspects of humanity. But now? Bruce was not yet Batman, and he had a weakness.

Schiller suddenly felt relieved. If he had faced the Dark Knight standing in the shadows of Gotham, all his tricks might have been useless because Batman was not Superman - he was not a righteous hero, but a complete outlaw.

After Bruce left, Schiller stood by the window for a long time. Perhaps Batman would arrive soon, and Bruce could not wait any longer.

The next day, Schiller went to class as usual, and unfortunately, his attempt to prevent Bruce from choosing psychology as his major failed. This young Batman had to appear in Schiller's peaceful life, reminding him that things were about to become complicated.

Strangely enough, Schiller discovered that Bruce was limping, his right foot appeared to be injured, yet he still insisted on attending class. While teaching, Schiller thought about where Bruce had gone.

He owned billions of dollars, the Wayne family was a prominent name in Gotham - could he have been beaten up by some gangsters?

After class, Schiller refused Bruce's obvious hint to talk, quickly packed up his books and teaching materials, then followed the flow of students out. He had to go out tonight.

If Gotham City was hell, then even Satan would fear it at night. This city of crime never ceased the ripples of evil. Schiller left the safety of the university and truly entered Gotham City.

He was following the Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane.

Jonathan was not a normal person - he had been committing murders since he was eighteen. Even though he was not yet the Scarecrow, he had already begun his experiments with fear gas.

Schiller did not come to stop him to uphold justice, he came to get a sample of fear gas for self-defense.

In this dangerous city, a chemist's lab was one of the safest places to break in secretly since both Jonathan and Schiller were civilians and not thugs who knew how to fight with guns or blades. They could only rely on their wits.

That night, it rained in Gotham again. The darkness was as thick as ink, and the rain carried the heavy smell of kerosene. Despite being warm, September's cold rain still made people shiver. Schiller wore a long coat and carried a black umbrella as he crossed a narrow street. He gradually reached the location where Jonathan hid the gas. It was in the basement of an abandoned church in a block. Schiller could get the fear gas when Jonathan wasn't around.

Suddenly, Schiller's heart began beating rapidly as he saw a vision of himself being struck by an unknown weapon. He quickly turned around and opened his umbrella, just in time to block two hidden projectiles that would have otherwise hit him. The Spider-Sense had saved Schiller's life. Slowly putting down the umbrella, he looked nothing like his usual mild-mannered self; almost dying tends to have that effect on people. At the end of the alley, Bruce, dressed in his bat-suit, watched as his precise and fast-flying Batarang was instantly blocked by the mysterious figure's umbrella, as if they had anticipated it. As the dark, wet umbrella was lowered, Bruce recognized the face of his college professor, Schiller. It was him, but then again, it wasn't. Schiller's demeanor was vastly different from his daytime persona; he more closely resembled the madman Schiller that Bruce had heard about who was obsessed with criminal psychology. Schiller took a deep breath and said, "You should know what would have happened if I didn't block that." "The Batarang would have stopped thirty centimeters from you," replied Batman. Schiller recognized the use of a voice modulator in Bruce's response, as his voice was completely different from his usual tone. At this point, Batman was far from being fully mature with his suit not yet complete, lacking a cape and utility belt, and his Batarang seeming to be somewhat ineffective. It was evident that the young Batman still had a lot of learning to do if he wanted to fight crime in Gotham. Schiller said, "I must remind you, Mr. Batman, that unlike the wealthy district in which you reside, the rooftops in the Morrison neighborhood do not have guard rails. If you were to fall again, you might suffer from organ rupture." The dark figure in front of Schiller remained silent and asked, "How did you figure it out?"

"You're still too green, hero," Schiller said. "The drugs you're using have almost no odor. They're high-end chemical compounds, not the kind of thing the poor folks in the slums can afford. And..." Schiller's gaze fell on Bruce's perfectly symmetrical chin. "No one around here shaves their beard so neatly and symmetrically."

"Who are you?" Batman asked.

Schiller opened his umbrella again and said, "Go home, young master. No one is going to answer all of your questions. I'm not a mentor for beginners."

With that, Schiller walked off into the rain. Batman stood in the alley for a long time and hobbled out, turning into another street where he saw a beggar shivering in the rain.

He took out a wad of cash and handed it to the beggar, then he heard footsteps behind him tapping against the wet pavement followed by a sentence that made him shudder, "That's why I said you don't understand Gotham, Bruce."

Batman turned around and saw Schiller standing at the intersection. Schiller walked over and handed the umbrella to the beggar. The beggar opened the umbrella and stood beneath it, protected from the cold rain. She then shakily handed the wad of cash back to Batman.

"Why?" Batman asked as he took the money.

"Because this is the territory of the Sewer Gang," Schiller replied. "If they catch wind of her having a large sum of money, her body will turn up in the storm drain the next day."

"A large sum of money?" Batman's voice sounded ridiculous. "Thirty-seven dollars?"

"Yes," Schiller said, looking towards the end of the street. "This is Gotham..."

"Welcome to Gotham."