Chapter 2602: Whistling Down (51)

Shiller successfully bought three big bags of garden soil, a shovel for excavation, and some assorted items like watering cans and hoses from the gardening section.

He didn't manage to get any grass seeds because the quality here wasn't up to the standards of the lawns in the wealthy areas. However, the grass seed vendor gave Shiller a phone number; his cousin was in the business for the wealthy areas and Shiller could ask for home delivery.

Shiller didn't ask the shop owner to deliver the garden soil and tools to his house but only to help carry them to the trunk of his car as he planned to use the Gray Mist to fill the hole.

After all, it wasn't feasible to fill it in with a shovel, for one thing because the room had just been cleaned and it would raise too much dust, and also because it was too labor-intensive. Besides burying bodies, Shiller rarely did this kind of physical work.

Driving home, he encountered an unexpected person—Killer Croc—who had parked the same small truck in front of Shiller's house that he had been driving before. Zatanna was moving something into the house using magic.

Shiller parked his car behind the truck, and Killer Croc immediately spotted him. As Shiller got out of the car, he shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand and asked them, "What brings you here? What are you moving?"

"Of course, it's garden soil." Zatanna, squinting in the sunlight, her baseball cap failing to fully shield her from the intense sun, simply took it off and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Raven made a call mentioning that she created a big hole in your backyard, and no matter what, we brought her here. We can't just leave you to deal with it alone."

Shiller turned to look at his own trunk and said, "You should've sent me a message earlier, I've already bought some."

"That's perfect, the few bags we've got might not be enough. It's always better to have extra. You'll eventually need more soil for planting vegetables anyway," Zatanna replied.

"I brought some pretty stones too. Weren't you thinking of setting up a small vegetable garden?" Killer Croc said as he continued to move bags, "I'm good at this. I could build you a vegetable patch in a corner of your garden."

After a moment's hesitation, Shiller said, "Then I'll trouble you with that."

Killer Croc waved a dismissive hand as if it were nothing, and soon the garden soil Shiller bought and the bags they brought were all moved to the backyard.

In the backyard, Shiller gestured and said, "I'm thinking of making a vegetable garden this big, with open-air planting here and a small greenhouse over there."

"A greenhouse too?!" exclaimed Zatanna in shock.

"Just a warm shed," said Shiller. "You can make one with bamboo poles and plastic sheeting, mainly to cultivate seedlings."

"You actually know how to grow vegetables?!" Zatanna was even more amazed.

"Don't you?" Shiller asked with a hint of disdain. "Have you never grown anything? Not even once?"

"Please, I'm a Magician. How could I possibly...?"

At that moment, Killer Croc spoke up, shaking his head, "No, Professor, the vegetable garden you're thinking of is way beyond what I imagined. If it's as big as you're suggesting, then the soil we have is definitely not enough."

"I just wanted to fill the hole, setting up the vegetable garden can wait," said Shiller. "The garden over there hasn't been tended to for quite some time either, perhaps I could hire a gardener to help with it all."

"However, the weather is getting colder," Killer Croc said. "If we plant now, we might get one last harvest before winter, but if we wait a few more days, it's not so certain."

"You know how to plant vegetables too?!" Zatanna again looked at Killer Croc in surprise.

"Don't be so shocked; people from the East District at least know a bit about planting. The slums aren't strictly regulated, and some flat roofs and small balconies are used to grow plants."

"But there was no sunlight before, how did you keep them alive?" Zatanna was even more puzzled.

"If you plant enough, there will always be some that survive. Seeds aren't worth much anyway."

Zatanna finally understood where all those aggressive plants and bizarre animals in Gotham came from; they were all results of failed attempts using the Exhaustion Method.

"Do you think we should start with the vegetable garden?" Shiller asked, stroking his chin.

He was actually quite tempted because, firstly, a big hole in the backyard was quite a spectacle, likely unmatched by any other in the community, and it could spark a lot of discussion at the housewarming party, even leading to conversations about Aliens. It was a pretty good topic.

Secondly, Shiller really wanted to plant vegetables. Season and temperature weren't big issues. The main thing was that with Merkel away, it was a great opportunity.

By the time Merkel returned, the vegetables would probably be ready to harvest. If Merkel encountered the immature vegetables, this batch might not survive long enough to be eaten.

Having made up his mind, they shifted their focus from filling the hole to building the vegetable garden.

In America, villa complexes never prohibited planting vegetables; it was just that the front yard near the road wasn't supposed to be used for that purpose, to maintain the neatness and attractiveness of the lawn and hence the house prices, serving the purpose of community segregation.

But the backyard was a free-for-all. Whether it be a lawn, a garden, a playground, or even a pavilion with mountains and waters, no one cared.

Shiller's new house certainly didn't have a garden as grand as a manor's, but the backyard wasn't small either, divided into four areas.

In the middle was the lawn and that big pit, to the left some neglected garden, and to the right the vegetable patch that was planned. Up front was the rear porch of the house, larger and wider than the one in front, where a complete dining set for a dozen people could be arranged for backyard gatherings.

Once he started working, Shiller realized that too much sunshine wasn't necessarily a good thing. Standing under the hot sun was really too baking, and though the weather was cool, the sunlight was always blinding.

Luckily, Killer Croc was indeed extremely good at bricklaying; even though the bricks he brought weren't those ugly red ones but natural, thin slate pieces—mostly pre-cut irregular stones in shades of gray, brown, and dark blue—he could stack them up quite neatly, one after another.

The finished vegetable patch and the bluish-gray courtyard walls merged seamlessly, looking both beautiful and neat. More importantly, it appeared natural, not like a man-made artifact, and Shiller was quite satisfied.

"This is my specialty," Killer Croc said, "I actually considered going into renovation. It's pretty profitable and not too strenuous. But that's a goal for later; I still don't have the right contacts for that yet. I'll think about it when I've saved up some money."

"Perhaps you know about the second-hand market in the East District?" Shiller spoke up, "I've made a friend there, people call him Blackskin Martin."

Killer Croc raised an eyebrow and said, "You actually go there, and even know Martin? That guy's quite well-known, touted as the know-it-all of the market."

"Would his contacts be useful to you?"

"Of course, even hugely so. A lot of construction and garden work involves second-hand furniture, and that place is the biggest second-hand furniture wholesale market. But the average Joe can't make heads or tails of the market prices, so having someone to introduce you..."

"He'll be coming over tonight, but it's not convenient to arrange a meeting at the moment. I'll ask him for his contact details, and you can look him up later."

Killer Croc was thrilled, and worked even faster. As Shiller watched his arms whirl, the remaining half of the wall was completed in just a few minutes. He thought to himself that, just like the moving market, maybe Gotham's renovation market was about to stir up a storm.

They filled the raised vegetable patch with soil, and Shiller briefly showed Zatanna how to plow rows for sowing. Zatanna declared she would start a vegetable garden in the bookstore's backyard, although judging from her distracted expression during the explanation, the chances of success didn't look good.

It was only proper to offer a meal to someone who had helped with the work, but Shiller's house lacked proper groceries, so he had to look for a nearby restaurant to order takeout.

It was his first time ordering takeout; although he had ordered deliveries at the manor before, it had always been Merkel who handled it.

In this era, ordering takeout involved calling the restaurant. Before making the call, he had to log onto their website to browse the menu and fill out a preliminary order. After that, he would note down the last few digits of the website's URL, then call and provide those digits, his address, and the desired delivery time. Only then was the order considered placed.

Shiller fumbled around for a while before he succeeded. Zatanna watched, relishing his struggle, "I knew it, some old-timers just can't get the hang of computers. Are you still stuck in the era of paper management?"

Inwardly, Shiller confessed that he truly couldn't grasp computers of this age because they were truly too primitive; he actually had to input codes on the webpage controller to display the numbers in the URL. Had the technology tree of this cosmos gone astray?

He forgot when he bought the computer that he had been clearly informed that Luther Group's computers offered better home and smart features, while Wayne Enterprises' computers were more professional and complicated. Yet, he still chose one from Wayne Enterprises, truly a case of reaping what he sowed.

By the time the takeout arrived and the meal was finished, it was nearly evening. The two soon said their goodbyes and left.

Shiller was tidying up in the living room when he remembered the crystal ball he had left in the car. He went to the garage to retrieve it but didn't move it; instead, he casually placed it on the table on the back porch, planning to ask Martin about it when he arrived.

After a whole day of hustle, Shiller began to feel tired. Remembering that he had classes the next day, he went upstairs to lie on his bed and check his smartphone's email inbox, replying to his students' varied, outlandish queries that had little to do with psychology.

Soon, Shiller fell asleep.

"Ah!!!"

A sudden scream came from downstairs, startling Shiller awake. He walked to the window, drew back the curtains, and looked down to see a person lying in front of the back porch.

Shiller rushed downstairs, stepping out of the back door with large strides. As he neared the man, he found that he had stopped breathing.

Moving closer, Shiller saw the crystal ball he had been holding now on the lawn, unbroken, but the magic energy inside had vanished.

Shiller had a feeling and leaned over to lift the dead man's shirt. As expected, there was a familiar tattoo on his back, belonging to the Penitent Cartel.

Ding-dong!

The doorbell rang, and a familiar voice came from the front of the house.

"Good evening, sir. I'm Martin. I'm here to deliver your order, your gift has arrived!"

Shiller quickly appeared in front of the door, opening it just a crack.

Martin, seeing Shiller in his pajamas, gave an apologetic smile and said, "I didn't know you were resting. Would you like me to bring it inside for you?"

"Come in," Shiller stepped back half a step, making room for him.

Martin stepped in with the carved wooden box, and it wasn't until then that he noticed the long kitchen knife in Shiller's hand.