While he was standing in Gordon's office waiting for him, he saw James Gordon, who was soaked, walking in through the door. He shivered and shivered because the heater in the police station was insufficient.
Batman looked in silently as he walked in, following him and asked, "What are you going to do?"
"Nothing." Gordon took a deep breath and said, "I just accidentally fell into the Gotham River and saved someone."
"who?"
"Landon Harvezer, who just released from jail on bail."
"Why is he in the Gotham River?"
Gordon glanced at Batman, and Batman had never seen such a look before. This made Batman's heart thrill because he always felt that his old friend was becoming stranger.
"Will he appear in court?" Batman asked.
"I don't know." Gordon went to the lounge to change his clothes. He walked out in a dry uniform, his hair was still wet. But he didn't wipe it, but just collapsed on the chair.
Batman saw that his face was particularly pale, not just because of his fatigue. There was something inexplicable that was devouring him from the inside.
Gordon closed his eyes and a scattered scene began to flash through his mind.
No one knows that James Gordon, who graduated from the police academy, was the student with the highest ground pursuit success rate among the graduates of the Chicago Police Academy. His driving skills are very good.
After becoming the police chief, he rarely used this technology again. And just yesterday, he forced Harveser's car into the river.
Then he stood on the bridge and saw Schiller.
Schiller saw him. Gordon was very sure of this, and he might even be chasing him. All of this was planned by him. Once he took action, he would never look back.
A second before the car was about to be completely submerged, Gordon jumped off the bridge. He fished out Harveser, who was half dead and his lawyer.
He thought Schiller would find a way to stop him, but he stood quietly by the river bank, watching Gordon rescue the two of them with all his might, then called an ambulance and took them to the hospital.
The police car that Gordon drove over was scrapped. Just as he was soaked and staggering towards the nearest road, another car stopped in front of him.
The car window was lowered, revealing Shiler's face. Gordon sat in the passenger seat silently without saying anything.
"Which do you think will arrive first, thank you letter or handcuffs?" Schiller asked.
Gordon rarely asked Schillerch if he minded his smoking, but used his trembling fingers to find a cigarette and put it in his mouth. The faint flame of the lighter swayed several times at the tail of the cigarette before successfully igniting it.
It's right.
Gordon took a deep breath and leaned back, like an addict who was addicted to pleasure.
"What are you thinking?" Schiller asked again.
"I'm wondering which prison is more suitable for me."
"Did they see it's you?" Schiller turned his head and asked him, as if he was a little complaining, "You are too uncautious and actually drove in a police car."
"Isn't this what you want?" Gordon looked out the window with a cigarette, "The reporter should have rushed to the hospital, right?"
"I'm afraid yes." Schiller nodded and said, "Look soon you will see Harveser's heart-wrenching accusation of the police of murder on TV. I won't ask what you plan to do. I just
I want to ask, what were you thinking when you jumped off the bridge?”
Gordon's eyes were a little empty, as if he had empty all his thoughts and was thinking nothing. But when he heard Schiller's question, he came to his senses and touched the police badge on his chest with his hand.
"I'm not saving him, I'm saving myself."
Schiller's hand on the steering wheel paused, and his tone finally fluctuated a little. He said, "Am I the first person who wants to emphasize your stupidity to you so much?"
"Of course not." Gordon actually laughed, and he said, "You came too late, not only not the first one, but you can't even be in the top 100."
“Who is the first one?”
"The instructor at the Chicago Police Academy, my teacher. He said that if I choose to throw myself into a pile of shit, I must be prepared to become a maggot one day."
Gordon lit another cigarette, gritted his teeth and frowned, and his voice revealed a fierce temperament that he had never shown before anyone, like a wolf who had been hungry for a few days and suddenly smelled blood.
.
"It seems you don't understand one thing. I maintain the rules, not because I admire these things that have never been able to protect ordinary people well. I do this to maintain my status."
"If the law only protects the interests of the upper class, then I am just a lackey in another sense. I am not unclear about this, but I need this position, more than anyone else."
Gordon raised his head again, his eyes blurred in the smoke. He held the cigarette in his hand and said, "The kindness of the weak is a burden, and it is useless. Only with a gun in his hand can people be saved. And for the sake of giving
They handed the gun to me with confidence, and I had to be a rule defender to make them think I was an obedient dog.”
"But now you are not." Schiller said, "You opened your mouth, but you didn't bite people to death. They will soon realize that you are not safe."
"They never really felt that I was safe, they just had no way to deal with me. Just like you."
Schiller turned his head to look at him and rushed. Gordon's forehead hit the window glass on one side. The Gotham Police Department's sign was emitting a glimmer of light in the morning mist.
"You're here," Schiller said.
After taking the last sip of cigarette, Gordon turned to look at Schiller and said, "I know you really can't do it, but no matter what purpose you didn't do that, I want to thank you."
He got up and walked out of the car, but he opened the door, leaned down, looked at Schiller who was sitting in the driver's seat and said, "But I also want to warn you that it's better not to fall into my hands."
With a slam, the car door was closed. Schiller watched Gordon walk into the police station. He also reached out to take out a cigarette. After igniting it, he did not suck it, but watched quietly as the smoke drifted into the car.
He had to admit that as he watched Gordon jump down from the Gotham Bridge, his brain stopped for a moment, briefly forgot about the countless strategies surrounding his heart.
The Gotham Bridge is 187 meters high. From this height, humans jump down to contact the water surface, and there is no possibility of survival.
Gordon wasn't crazy, he wasn't committing suicide. He was betting that Schiller would definitely save him.
Schiller used gray fog to destroy the tension on the water surface, allowing Gordon to enter the water safely and rescue the two of them.
Schiller didn't know how to evaluate James Gordon.
He rarely meets such a complicated person at Marvel, with both hero and madman characteristics, but the integration is perfect.
Schiller showed up just to put pressure on Gordon.
If he is not discovered, he can think of this as never happening. But once there are bystanders, Schiller's existence will always remind him that he has broken his principles and no longer has the legitimacy of the past.
And purity.
When there is a stain on a pure white dress, there will be countless. Because when people find that the first stain cannot be eliminated, they will assume that it doesn't matter what the clothes are dirty. The police uniforms are also
in this way.
But Gordon found the only way to survive in this game - he chose to jump off the bridge and threw back the question of "save or not" to Schiller.
And Schiller had no choice.
At this moment, Gordon is a lunatic. But for most of the time, he is a hero.
And Schiller can never see the hero die.
Schiller saved Gordon, but it also left an eternal mystery. That is, if he didn't show up, would Gordon choose to save those two people?
Gordon will never answer this question, perhaps it is also an answer.
He became the extra factor in his plan, and did not make Schiller feel frustrated. He just felt a little emotional.
In such a city, it may be right to be arrogant and choose to live your life well. No one here needs to be saved.
After smoking a cigarette, Schiller opened the window and restarted the car. He came to the door of a bar, parked the car on the side of the bar, and walked in through the side door.
This is the Lower Town. It is always eye-catching for a person dressed in this way to walk into the cheap bar here. But the atmosphere in the bar is at its climax, and no one cares about Schiller sitting in the corner.
He casually asked for a glass of wine, sat down against the wall, and listened to the movements in the bar. The loudest sound was not the deafening passionate music, but the roar of a person.
"Bol is dead! This bitch is finally dead! I don't care who that Shik is, he is the fucking most powerful boxer in this city! I will buy all of him next time he plays
he!"
Cheers immediately rang out in the bar. But soon, someone said frowningly: "But another explosion occurred on Skylark Street, killing more than a dozen people. Do you think those criminals will come to us?"
"Have you heard that? Willy's daughter was assassinated." One person suddenly said, "It seems that someone broke into her house and almost beat her to death. Fortunately, she ran fast."
"Willie? Is that gladiator Willie?" Someone immediately followed up, "It was him who took people to the door of Boer's factory to get his salary back. Is that him?"
"It's him. That guy is a tough guy. I heard that he was hit by a baton twice and didn't run away. Instead, the police were afraid of him. It seems that his daughter hasn't been in high school yet?"
"It seems. I've seen that little girl, isn't she red hair and a little freckle on her face?"
Suddenly someone stood up in the crowd. He was a fat man who looked like he had to be over 200 pounds and wearing a baseball cap. He said: "I have to go to Willy's house to see it, so that the little girl can't fall into the hands of those bastards.
inside."
"Are you crazy? Those killers may not have left yet!"
"I either want to join them or go and have a look. If I can find her, I will ask my aunt to secretly send her to Brudehaven. At least I won't lose my life."
"I'll go with you. We'll go around her house, she probably won't run too far."
"Then I'll go too, I'll show you the wind."
The noise in the bar ended soon, and Schiller also finished a glass of wine. Fiona was smarter than he thought. She learned very quickly, and it was also possible that the Pale Knight taught her some. The news of the assassination was announced.
She has pros and cons.
Schiller drove to Willy's house in the car. He came faster, and the group had not arrived yet. He saw the door open, fragments of glass on the ground, and blood was found in the center of the living room.
Schiller put on his shoe covers and walked around the living room twice. He tutted his mouth and said, "It's still too tender."
After saying that, he returned to the car, took out a bottle of glass water from the trunk, and returned to the house. After unscrewing the cap, the liquid inside the bottle was dark red.
After dealing with everything, Schiller sat in the car and watched through the window as a group of people sneaked into Willy's doorstep.
The man who stretched his head and looked into the window immediately screamed.