Bruce never expected that his internship journey would be filled with so many unexpected twists and turns.
The most perplexing aspect of it all was undoubtedly his psychology professor, Schiller.
Despite being in Gotham for only a few months, Professor Schiller seed more like a native than the actual locals. In fact, most locals couldn't match his level of understanding.
Schiller rapidly deciphered all the intricacies of this city's rules, not only comprehending them thoroughly but also excelling within their frawork.
Bruce had heard Gordon describe Gotham as a vast quagmire, and anyone who entered it would slowly sink into its inescapable mire.
But Schiller, this self-proclaid ordinary man and professor, plunged headfirst into this quagmire before Bruce's eyes. Not only did he react swiftly and move with agility, but he also dove into its deepest depths without any intention of extricating himself.
He transford seamlessly, becoming even more enigmatic than the most enigmatic of individuals within the rotten underbelly of Gotham. From the personnel arrangents and geographical advantages in gang shootouts to the standards for protection fees at bars and restaurants, from the odds at underground casinos to the rules governing the trade of contraband goods and the security of arms shipnts, there was nothing this professor didn't know.
His advice was taken to heart by Falcone, who comnded Schiller as a natural in this line of work. If he had arrived in Gotham thirty years earlier, Twelve Families would have made a seat for Rodriguez.
This left Bruce with mixed feelings about Schiller.
If you were to say that this professor was doing good deeds, his thods could hardly be considered honorable. He had willingly embraced the darkness.
Yet, if you were to say he was causing harm, he undeniably used his abilities to continually reshape the existing situation in Gotham, employing unorthodox thods to steer it in the direction he desired.
And, from Bruce's perspective, this change didn't seem to be heading in a negative direction. Instead, it established a precarious yet improved new order.
Especially when Bruce received news from Gordon about a significant decrease in Gotham's cri rate over the past two weeks, he felt a sense of absurdity.
Within the industry Schiller had shaped, the police had beco significantly more powerful because they were aligned with Gotham's largest gang, the Falcone Family.
Since the police station received direct support from Falcone, The Godfather provided them with a wealth of heavy weaponry. They used The Godfather's influence to intimidate others.
Now, whenever a gang shootout occurred, they could arrive at the scene within ten minutes, swiftly suppressing both sides and apprehending them to be sent to the ntal hospital.
Unlike before, the enthusiasm of the police was soaring. Opportunities for fieldwork were in high demand, and as long as they brought in a new official mber for the ntal hospital, they could claim 2% of all fees paid for the inmate's stay as their reward.
Gordon had been working tirelessly in recent days, even those who had been known for slacking off were eager to take the frontlines, fighting to maintain justice and combat the gangs.
Lately, this righteous detective had forgotten what justice truly ant. Though the effective crackdown on gangs should have been a good thing, he couldn't shake the feeling that sothing was amiss.
Nevertheless, these actions not only curbed the gangs' arrogance but also improved the lives of the police officers, making them fall in love with their damned profession.
To Gordon's astonishnt, he discovered that the entire police station had people working overti lately. Had they all been taken under the control of so devil?
Indeed, it was the devil of greed, ard and unflinching. When you were wielding a fully loaded heavy machine gun and demanding the gangs to cease fire, you might find the job rather ordinary. And after doing so, receiving a substantial reward, it might just beco the best job in the world.
Initially, Falcone had dispatched his black gloves to instigate shootouts between certain gangs. But later, anger flared, and the "Hounds" and the "Captain" joined forces to ambush the "Interceptors" from two blocks away. The "Locomotive" from the edge of East District quickly joined the fray, and three out of the four Elizabeth Street titans wanted to lend a hand. Maroni, fresh from disposing of the Red Raven Gang's corpses, found himself in the midst of a chaotic battle, turning East District into a ss.
Many gang mbers had already lost their lives in these shootouts between gangs. However, just when the fight was getting intense, the police charged onto the battlefield with heavy machine guns and rocket launchers. The gang mbers were left bewildered—were they gangs or were you gangs? Since when did the police use rocket launchers for law enforcent?
As a result, they lost so of their own in the shootout and were then arrested by the police. The gangs in East District, known for their combat prowess, were severely weakened. They no longer dared to venture outside and retreated to lick their wounds in their own territories.
Gordon's outdoor task force gained fa, and all of Gotham knew about their violent tactics. They charged in with armored trucks, set up bulletproof shields, indiscriminately sprayed gunfire with heavy machine guns, prioritized RPG strikes, advanced steadily, and finally cleared the area with hand grenades.
The most formidable gangs in East District were left incapacitated, and those who remained dared not speak out.
While this was largely due to Falcone's influence, since the old godfather was willing to fully support the police, he held both reason and power. Most gangs were unwilling to pay the heavy price to challenge the old godfather, and those who were willing had been brutally beaten by this sudden onslaught. Gotham had strangely quieted down.
All of this was the result of an ordinary professor's mont of inspiration on one fateful morning.
Bruce thought that Professor Schiller had beco the black sheep among black sheep, as the troublemakers treated him as a comrade, yet he had beco a friend of justice to his enemies.
Bruce truly didn't know how to evaluate this behavior.
Of course, Batman was a genius, and after his initial confusion, he saw a new possibility in Schiller's actions.
He had always believed that fighting criminals should be swift and precise, using all ans necessary to eradicate evil forces completely, preventing any resurgence.
However, Schiller didn't follow this approach. Instead of eradicating them, he sotis even nourished the criminal organizations he had once attacked, allowing them to grow stronger. Then, he used them as leverage to dismantle another complex network.
After witnessing these actions, Bruce once again asked Schiller the sa question. Bruce inquired, "Are you truly just an ordinary person, or is there so hidden, extraordinary power that enables you to accomplish all of this?"
Schiller sat in his office chair, twirling the ballpoint pen in his hand before tapping it lightly on his desk, motioning for Bruce to take a seat. He replied, "I can tell you that I am an ordinary person, but the key to this answer lies not in whether I possess so mystical power that others do not."
"It lies in the fact that the most miraculous power of humans is their thinking minds."
Schiller stood up and walked to the window, his white doctor's coat draped over him, making him appear even more imposing. Compared to the stern professor at school, Schiller, in his doctor persona, seed calr and gentler.
He continued, "The answer to this question does not hinge on whether I am genuinely an ordinary person. It is, as I once advised you, not in your advanced armor or expensive equipnt. None of those can make you a true Batman."
"Because the answers to the questions that trouble you are not found in these external things."
"They reside in the minds of ordinary people, in our own brains."
"In fact, if you take a mont to think calmly, you'll realize that pure violence cannot achieve any of your desired goals, whether it's revenge or saving this city. It's a path destined for failure."
Schiller lowered his head, fiddling with the ballpoint pen in his hands, and continued, "Actually, the path you've chosen itself is a dead end. But if you wish to avoid that fate, you must find a way out among countless dead ends."
"I've rely shown you one thod, not the entirety, and not..."
Bruce interrupted, "Isn't strength, intelligence, and determination enough?"
Schiller replied, "There's also Gotham."
"When can I learn about Gotham?" Bruce inquired.
"Perhaps not until the day you die."
Before Bruce could respond, Schiller added, "Gotham is a book that can never be fully read."
"I'm just a professor, and, just like I do in the classroom, I've highlighted key points for you. The rest, you must write for yourself."
Bruce asked, "Are the key points about strategy and balance? Or is it the power of wisdom? Thinking and foresight?"
"No, it's just like I do in the classroom—every part of the book is a key point."
Bruce was left speechless, unsure if Schiller was mocking him for not paying attention in class or hinting at sothing deeper.
But Schiller's answer made him realize sothing.
Using violence to stop the cri in this city, filled with evil, was indeed a futile endeavor. If Batman's strength and wealth couldn't easily turn this quagmire into a level playing field, perhaps, aside from brute force, utilizing his other talent, his intelligence, to manipulate things from behind the scenes, would be a better approach.
In this city saturated with violence, paradoxically, violence alone couldn't solve every problem. Mighty force was rely his entrance ticket, not the whole story.
When he used his considerable resources and equipnt to open the door, he encountered Schiller, his teacher. What Schiller showed Batman was a brand new Gotham.
A Gotham that transcended the surface violence, bloodshed, and intense conflicts, a Gotham filled with countless mysteries and complex relationships.
As Batman followed the intricate threads within the massive web, descending deep beneath the surface, and slid down the crevices of the iceberg into the frigid sea below, he finally saw the true face of Gotham.
"This is a new world," Batman thought.
But for him, it was not a setback or a blow; it was a shot of adrenaline.
His mind had never worked so quickly before, and he had never imagined that he possessed the ability to accept and untangle such intricate relationships so rapidly until he kept pace with Schiller's every move.
The thrill of gradually uncovering the vast network's roots, like tracing the intricate veins of a giant tree, fascinated Batman. He experienced a more intense excitent and joy than pumling criminals with his fists.
Bruce thought, perhaps, this was the correct answer.
Perhaps, he was the kind of person who, when faced with a complex puzzle that could make any ordinary person feel utterly despondent, beca exhilarated like a madman.
This was him; this was the Bat.
A creature driven by obsession, pursuing a perverse sense of ntal pleasure, crazier than any ntally ill person—the Bat.
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