The bar was playing West Coast lyrical rap, with a lively rhythm and a touch of melancholy, much like the street lights that lit up this city at night.
As soon as he sat down, Lucifer noticed something different about the bar. The bar wasn't made of assembled wooden planks, but of a single piece of timber, which, from its grain, looked rather aged.
"This is made from wood from the Sail Number," the bartender said, cleaning glasses, "The Sail Shipyard represents the past glory of Seashore City. After the ship was decommissioned, our boss bought a piece of its wood. This counter is a testament to the city's history."
Lucifer's fingers traced the rough grain of the wood. "Human history is actually quite short, but you always find many things to commemorate. Some things are unrelated to modern humans and no longer provide you with any guarantees, but you still take pride in them."
Shiller had one hand on the bar, the other holding a drink, quietly watching the light reflect off the liquid's surface like a lighthouse illuminating the sea. Turning to Lucifer, he said, "It seems you're getting some ideas."
Lucifer nodded. "I've trekked over every inch of land on every continent on Earth, seeing so much history."
"When I was in the midst of it, all I saw was human disorder. Only after it all ended did I realize that what for me was a moment, was already a long history for humans."
Lucifer looked up at the ceiling. "During my travels, I did pick up a few collectibles. Maybe I can put them in my bar."
Opening his hands, Lucifer said, "By then, it will be the most historically rich bar on the West Coast. Although I do not understand the use of history and culture in a bar, I think it would be quite cool."
Shiller smiled. "This should satisfy your desire well. Every day you'd be surrounded by 'What is this?' and 'What is that?' sort of questions. You'd patiently explain to everyone that these are not fakes, and you have not lost your mind."
"I don't mind that. Like you said, what I can't stand is boredom. It's primarily because life in heaven was unbearably boring," Lucifer said, shaking his head. He was almost done with his drink and a bit tipsy.
"Many people think I hate God, my father. But to put it bluntly, the emotion circling my heart is not hatred, but complaint," Lucifer said, propping up his face with one hand.
"He had everyone call me the First Light, but if he truly cherished this light, why did he make so many more afterwards? If it were only light, I could bear Michael. After all, heaven would be even more boring without them."
"But why did God create humans? Why create these fleeting ephemeral creatures? After the creation of humans, he commanded us to show kindness to them, to be the light that illuminates them. I, of course, was unwilling."
"Did you ever ask him why he created humans?" Shiller asked.
Lucifer closed his eyes lightly, and only after a few seconds did he speak. "Of course. He answered that he hoped it would alleviate my loneliness."
Lucifer squinted his eyes. His long eyelashes under the light above the bar seemed to radiate brilliant colors.
"So, are you lonely?" Shiller asked again.
"I do not know. I don't even know what loneliness is," Lucifer turned to look into Shiller's eyes. "I am the first light of the world, for a very long time there was only me. I was born this way, how could I be lonely?"
"Then is God lonely?"
Lucifer fell silent.
After a while, Lucifer asked, "Don't you hate Batman?"
Lucifer turned his head back and took another drink from the bartender. "As you said, everyone who has had any interaction with him, anyone remotely involved, is ruthlessly forced by fate to become his stepping stones, including me, all the lights in the world, even God."
"If he needs it, we must risk our lives. No matter how strong or high ranking, anyone can turn to ashes overnight. He is the true God of Destruction, the eternal Satan."
"You were forced to be entangled in his destiny, taught him so carefully, but the end result was still blood and injury. Don't you hold a grudge?"
Shiller was silent for a while before he said, "You were created by God, from birth you could not escape his control. You complain because, due to his great power, you feel like you must follow his arrangements and you can never be free. It's not that he doesn't love you, it's that you can't choose."
"But Batman can't choose either," Shiller shook his head. "We create tragedies because of him, but the tragedies that fall on him are heavier and last longer than anyone else's."
"Who he corrupts, who he binds, he has no control over it, no choice, and most of the time, he doesn't even know."
"And yet you revenged yourself on him?" Lucifer asked, showing a malicious smile. "If the ignorant are not guilty, why did you torment him for a full four years?"
Shiller shot him a glance and smiled. "So you were waiting for me to slip up? Are you trying to dismantle my reasoning?"
"No, I'm not," Lucifer shrugged. "You're trying to convince me to make peace with God and my brothers, so you tell me that the ignorant are not guilty, many people have no right to choose, and I should understand them. But why don't you understand Batman?"
Shiller blinked, and when his eyelashes crossed, the spots of light were like the shadows of city lights reflected upside-down on a lake.
"Do you know how Bruce's grades are?" Shiller asked.
"Absolutely terrible." Lucifer answered without a second thought. He didn't even have to use his omniscient ability to see the timeline, he knew even from his short time in Gotham that Bruce Wayne was barely graduating.
"What do you think of his attitude toward learning?" Shiller asked again.
This time, Lucifer took a moment to consider before replying, "Given his intelligence, if he were to study seriously, there's no way his grades could be this poor, he must just not be putting in the effort, his attitude toward learning is terrible."
"But you know what? He's never missed any of my classes, even if sometimes he arrives late and leaves early."
Lucifer was somewhat curious, so he asked, "Why is he always on time for class? If he doesn't want to study, why show up for class at all? And if he does show up for every class, how can he still perform so poorly?"
"Ah, I get it... he's probably afraid of making you angry, right?" Lucifer suddenly understood, "You must have put a lot of pressure on him, making him too scared to skip."
"Even though he attends every class but still performs so poorly, wouldn't that make me even angrier?" Shiller retorted, "It's his problem when a student does not attend class, but when he attends class and still performs so poorly, it is my problem... he understands this too."
"Why does he still come then? Why doesn't he do something else instead, it would save you some stress..."
"He attends class, but does not actually study. Do you know what he's doing in class?" Shiller asked.
"What?"
"Sleeping."
Lucifer was speechless. Shiller straightened up a bit, finishing the last sip of wine in his glass and said, "You might be thinking, 'when did I become so magnanimous to allow a student with neither grades nor attitude to blatantly sleep during my class?'"
Lucifer looked at him, his gaze conveyed 'You're correct, that's what I was wondering.'
However, Shiller shook his head and said, "No, I haven't been that magnanimous. Each environment in society has its own unique purpose. If one wishes to live in society, they must do things that resonate with their environment."
"The bedroom is for rest and sleep, the classroom is for attending lessons and studying. If a commoner reversed these two, the result would inevitably be a mess, whether it be rest or study. Even if it's to prevent this, I would not permit a student to sleep in my classroom."
"Also, I'm not trying to prove that I am superior to my students, but at least I possess more knowledge than them. When I want to share this knowledge with them, they can refuse by not attending classes, but if they decide to come and want to acquire this knowledge, they need to maintain the most basic level of respect towards me."
"Respecting the teacher is a prerequisite for acquiring knowledge, because if you don't respect someone, you won't truly remember their words. If a teacher cannot get respect, you also cannot acquire knowledge. What's the point in hurting each other for no reason?"
"So, why do you tolerate Bruce sleeping in your class?"
"Because Bruce's mental illness makes it so that he can only fall asleep when he feels safe. Otherwise, he would not really get any rest even if he lay in his bedroom the whole night."
Lucifer turned to look at Shiller, and he was about to ask "how do you know that", but he suddenly stopped, remaining silent.
The side of Shiller's face beneath the bar lights had a contour of rising and falling shades, resembling a winding mountain range.
"When a teacher instructs students about life philosophies, they are reopening some scars caused by past hardships, letting the student see not only their personal experience, but also the understanding and empathy that comes with it."
In the past, Lucifer always felt that Shiller spoke too calmly, but this time, he could hear a rare touch of tranquility and tenderness in his voice.
So he turned his head away, placing his glass heavily on the table, and said, "Perhaps... Father is the same."
The golden glow reflected by the lights falling onto the surface of the glass resembled the sunset that shone through the panoramic windows onto the blackboard in a tiered classroom.
Through the hazy light, Lucifer saw the hand holding the chalk in front of the blackboard pause.
When the teacher looked back, his gaze passed over rows of tiers and desks, like traversing one mountain after another, finally landing on the silhouette of a person at the back of the class.
The young man lying on the desk, exhausted, his brows gradually smoothed out.
The rhythm of his chest rising and falling gradually steadied, like a baby in a cradle faintly snoring, soundly asleep.