Chapter 2627: Descending Gently (76)

"Are all the invitations sent out?"

Jason's deep voice echoed in the upstairs study as he sat on the floor with a cushion, scrolling through Shiller's phone for messages, and jotting down each person's reply on a piece of paper.

The lighting in the new house's study wasn't as dim as the manor's; it was bright and gentle instead. Jason had never seen the usually hunched-over-writing Shiller so clearly; those contours that had been cold and hard in the dark became soft and warm.

Shiller let out a light sigh, stood up from the desk, and said, "There's one last one, I'll deliver it myself, what do you think of this hairstyle?"

"It's really nice, Professor. I think many people will be glad to see you this relaxed," Jason said with a smile as he looked at Shiller. "In fact, we never knew that you actually have curly hair."

"Just a little curly," Shiller shook his head, bent back down to write something, and added.

"Glad you're letting us know."

Shiller's hand, holding the pen, paused for a moment, his voice deep, emotion indiscernible, "What's there to be glad about?"

"We're happy to discover any slight change in a friend," Jason said. "It's not essentially about truly knowing what the change signifies for them. The real joy comes from them being willing to show us that change."

"People often say, 'I'd be honored to be the first person you think of when you're happy or sad,' because only when two people are deeply connected will you immediately think I can provide the emotional feedback you seek."

"The same goes for changes. If you exhibit a change to someone straight away, it means you're seeking their evaluation and advice, implying you value their opinion. It's an honor, Professor."

Shiller gave Jason a quick glance; he was different from the little boy Shiller first met, starting to resemble all the Jason Todds in the cosmos—taller, bigger, and strong.

As he sat cross-legged on the cushion, he didn't emanate the aura of a Robin informed by darkness and rationality but rather appeared as a puffed-up, smug, fearless thrush.

"Are you planning on giving me advice?"

Jason thought for a moment before replying, "Are you planning to wear a coat? But that wouldn't be suitable for sitting on a camp stool, much less a narrow fishing seat—it would drag on the ground."

"I can fish standing up."

"And are you planning to stand while playing poker too?" Jason inquired. "Do you know how to play poker? How about Texas Hold'em?"

Shiller seemed insulted, retorting, "I've won every card game I've ever played, no matter the variant."

Jason looked down and laughed, covering his mouth with his wrist, but then he became serious, saying, "But Texas Hold'em isn't just about skill, it also involves luck. How's your luck?"

Shiller found it hard to respond, merely stating, "I believe that even if there's a deficiency, I can compensate with technique."

"Oh, no, certainly not. I must join in on the first round you play tomorrow," Jason exclaimed. "Even if you're standing for it."

Shiller folded the letter he had written, put it in an envelope, sealed it with a wax stamp, stood up with the letter in hand, and said, "If you lose, you'll have to write a book report for a week. I'll have Alfred oversee it."

"And what about you? What if you lose, Professor?" Jason said, not waiting for Shiller to answer, then quickly added, "How could I forget, you never lose. After all, Bruce learned his card-playing skills from you."

"I never taught him to cheat or palm cards," Shiller denied vehemently. "His game theory and psychoanalysis skills are based on counterattacks against my teaching reputation."

"I didn't say he palmed cards either, and indeed, no one has, because we have no evidence," Jason said, resting his chin on his hand with a sigh. "That's the way it is at the card table, without catching someone in the act, you have nothing."

"Then why did Gordon go after Jack?"

"He was mad with frustration," Jason explained. "And he was brazen, believing that even if he condemned Jack to death, he could find a corresponding crime in Jack's record. That's also why Jack didn't resist."

"When there's a traitor among a group of good people, he naturally becomes the prime suspect, because he's different and thus lacks a voice."

"Isn't it the case that nobody has a say in the face of Bruce Wayne?"

"Of course not. Bruce Wayne wouldn't be found playing poker with a bunch of odd-looking guys at a barbecue stand."

"Neither would the Joker... well, maybe he actually would. So you mean, if someone cheats tomorrow, I'll be the first suspect?"

"There's a possibility," Jason said, his eyes shifting. "Without evidence, whoever stands out as the odd one in the crowd is naturally suspect."

"But I won't be the prime suspect." Shiller picked up the envelope in his hand and waved it. "He will be."

A car drove into the chilling morning fog and then slowly stopped at the edge of a forest. Victor opened the door and then helped Anna out of the car from the passenger's side.

Dressed in sportswear, Anna stepped out and stretched her arms, took a deep breath, and exclaimed, "It's great to have money. If I lived here, I'd have to run at least ten miles every morning."

Victor picked up his phone and asked, "Hello? Nora, where have you guys reached? Are you already on Camphor Street? Alright, I got it."

Anna turned to him and inquired, "What's up?"

"Givelle's daughter gets a bit carsick, so they've stopped by the roadside to get some fresh air, and might be about fifteen minutes late. Let's carry our stuff over first."

Anna nodded her head and began to move things outside.

The entire car, apart from the two of them, was packed with all sorts of camping gear, food ingredients, and fishing equipment, divided into four packages and two boxes.

"Why did you guys bring so much stuff?"

Shiller's voice suddenly appeared, causing Victor to almost throw what he was holding,

On seeing Shiller, walking through the mist in a black coat and a gray scarf, he heaved a sigh of relief and said, "Can't you avoid popping up out of nowhere like that? I almost threw the bait out."

"I remember telling you that I prepared everything."

"But I bet you missed something." Victor struggled to place a box on top of the car's trunk and said, "You're not the type to ask a more experienced neighbor for a list of essential items for a camping party, Shiller; that's not something you'd do."

"You're more likely to have found a patch of grass and then expected tents and tables to spring up from the ground and hadn't even imagined any fun activities. Thankfully, I read the fishing report and knew there was a nice stream around here."

Victor wore a smug expression, similar to "see how well I know you," and then added with a praise-seeking attitude, "So I brought all the camping gear we could find at home, including fishing rods and playing cards, even a Frisbee! We are going to have a great time camping here."

Shiller scoffed, picked up a box, and with Victor and Anna following behind, each carrying items, they arrived at the lawn where they admired the beautiful scenery and silently cursed the rich guy leading the way.

Crossing over a gentle slope in the lawn and then passing between two dense beech trees, Anna and Victor stood astonished.

This place was the south bank of the stream, with a flat and hard piece of land, a clear river ahead, and dense trees behind.

Near the trees, three canopies had already been erected, with neat camping tables and chairs underneath, fishing stools were placed near the stream and downwind of these two areas were the barbecue grills and boxes of food.

It was still early, with the morning mist lingering above the colorful forest canopy. The opposite bank of the stream was a mixture of gold, bright orange, deep red, and even pale blue. The dim sunlight, like the water of the river of time, washed over the scene, turning it into an impressionist masterpiece weathered by time; Gotham's deep autumn always bore this kind of quiet and melancholic beauty.

Shiller stood at the center of the scene, turned back, and smiled at the two, then an inappropriately loud curse, loud enough to disturb the birds in the forest, rang out again.

"God, how many years do I have to work to afford a house like this?!!" Anna began to roar, "If I owned it, I'd fish here day and night, and no one could drive me away!!!"

"No one would drive you away, ma'am," Shiller commented as he took the box from Anna's hands and said, "But I suggest you better go home at night, or you might disturb the neighbors."

"Why? They like night fishing?"

"Nighttime isn't good for fishing, but you can do other things."

"Oh, I get it, murder and body disposal, right?" Anna leaned over to look at the river and said, "No wonder the fish are so plump, they must taste great. Did you prepare the seasoning for grilling fish?"

"Pamela said she would bring some," Victor chimed in. "When we received your invitation to camp, everyone was struck with a form of anxiety dubbed 'Shiller probably won't do anything.'"

"We thought you were hosting a performance art event with the theme of having us stand around near your house doing nothing, or that you just wanted to hold your academic conference in a more natural setting."

"So we communicated overnight, and everyone brought everything they could to ensure we would have a real camping experience."

Shiller commented somewhat helplessly, "The spices are in that box there. What do you think I am? A Lizard disguised as a human?"

"I thought of a Lizardman joke," said Victor.

"Don't say it. Let's see your fishing rod instead," Shiller walked over and took the box from Victor's hand and said, "It's probably some cheap stuff as I expected."

"You can tell the value of a fishing rod?"

"Why do I always feel you guys have some misunderstanding about me?" Shiller squinted at Victor and asked, "What exactly do you picture me as in your minds?"

"It doesn't matter." Anna chose to skip over the subject and said, "Bringing some extra stuff is always good, like the fishing rods. I guess what you've prepared won't be enough because anybody who sees this water will want to try their hand."

"Do you know how to fish, ma'am?"

"Don't joke, lure fishing doesn't require any skills." Anna shook her head as she replied, "Unless you are talking about making fake bait yourself, which I can't do. But casting the line and waiting for the fish to bite, I can handle that."

"Then you're quite superficial," Victor took out a fishing rod and said, "You certainly don't read the fishing reports often, where it says to choose different rods for different water conditions, and different techniques for reeling in different kinds of fish."

"You sound like a complete theorist," Anna retorted sarcastically, "Fishing even has theorists now, huh? How about a little competition?"

"Bring it on. I'll show you that theory is important in any field."

After that, the two of them took their rods to the riverbank, with Victor looking toward the stream and asking, "Is there a lake up there?"

"Yes, we saw it on our way here in the car, and it's a big one."