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Chapter 75: A Plan to Drive Away Tigers and Swallow Wolves (1)

The clinking of knives and forks against the tableware filled the air, accompanied by the gentle sound of wine bubbles dissipating. Gordon raised his glass first and said, "Congratulations on your new home, Joe!"

Bruce, Harvey, Schiller, and Victor all raised their glasses and clinked them together. Schiller took a sip of the somewhat spicy wine and felt a warm sensation spreading through his chest. The fireplace cast its warm glow on the glasses, resembling burning fire.

"You should have bought a house a long time ago," Harvey commented. "I've been saying it; no one should live in the teacher's dorms for so long. They don't even have a coffee machine there. I stayed there for just two nights, and my back hurt from the bed."

"I think it's not bad," Victor added. "The hardware facilities at Gotham University are decent. Of course, it can't compare to this Manor, but I hope you'll leave a room for me here."

"You're welcome anytime," Schiller raised his glass to him. Bruce, slicing a piece of steak on his plate, chimed in, "You should leave a room for all of us. After all, I've left rooms for you all at Wayne Manor."

"That would be enough," Schiller replied.

"God willing, I'll be able to buy a big Manor in my lifetime, and I'd be more than happy to leave a room for each of you," Gordon said, taking a bite of sausage.

"How have you been lately? You should be saving up some money by now, right?" Harvey asked him.

"My recent income has seen a slight dip, but it's still good," Gordon wiped his mouth with a napkin and continued, "The Godfather hasn't made any moves yet, but the other gangs are eager. It's probably the calm before the storm."

"Nothing, I just think I can help you with your apartment choice. After all, before buying a house, I looked at a lot of materials."

"That works out perfectly. I've been struggling to decide which one to buy. What do you think of the Pelican Estates? I actually prefer Jasmine Lane, but considering that we might want a children in the future, it's a bit small and doesn't have a nursery."

"Have you considered Ninth Avenue? How about being neighbors with me?" Harvey asked with a smile.

"Oh my, that's too far away, and most of the people living there are bachelors like you, right?"

Schiller made a scoffing sound as he lifted his wine glass to take a sip. Gordon looked at him with some confusion, and Schiller chuckled, saying, "You've been too busy lately, you don't even know about something this big."

"What's going on?" Gordon glanced at Harvey and asked, "Did I miss something? Is he not single anymore?"

Victor inquired, "Have you officially started a relationship with Christine? If so, you might want to be discreet at school. You know, there are almost as many girls interested in you as there are guys interested in her."

"Well, it happened last week," Harvey shrugged.

Bruce looked surprised and said, "Really? Wow! You managed to win over the most beautiful girl at all of Gotham University so quickly. I thought you were just an old scholar."

Schiller tapped the edge of his plate lightly with his fork again and said, "I hope you're not implying something. You sitting at this dinner table with me, is it because you scored only 69 on your final exams?"

Everyone burst into laughter as the fire in the fireplace burned brightly. The reflections of the metal utensils on the dining table shimmered, emitting soft halos of light that overlapped and illuminated the entire room.

After finishing their meal, the group sat on the sofa by the fireplace. Harvey was a bit tipsy and said, "Is this our bachelor night? Gordon is getting married soon, and before that happens, we can still have a night like this..."

"I should get going," Victor said as he put on his coat and hat. Schiller turned to look at him and said, "Take the bag by the door; there are two bottles of wine and a pack of cigars."

"Oh, thank you. How can you bear to give me these Cuban goodies?" Victor opened the bag and asked with a smile.

"I remember you mentioned that the past few days were your wedding anniversary..."

"Oh, sorry, we both didn't know!" Bruce said. "Professor Fries, I'll send your gift to your office tomorrow."

"No, no need to be so polite," Victor smiled and said, "Honestly, I'm happy that you all understand me. After all, freezing my wife in a cryogenic chamber is quite a scary thing. I never expected anyone to understand this crazy act of mine. People I heard about it before either just advised me that everyone faces life, aging, sickness, and death or told me to accept it."

But his new friends in Gotham had shown remarkable tolerance and didn't shy away from the topic. In fact, they didn't treat him with sympathy, which Victor appreciated. He didn't like it when others looked at him with pity, making him feel like a pariah every time the subject of marriage and family came up.

But his friends were different. To them, his wife was simply in the hospital with a minor illness, and they never forgot her presence. This brought Victor a sense of comfort, as if his wife was just temporarily unwell and would recover soon.

After Victor left, Gordon soon followed suit. Bruce leaned back on the sofa and said, "See, all of them are so busy. It's just us, just us idle folks, who can get drunk like this..."

"It's only you, Mr. Billionaire," Harvey added as he put on his coat. "I still have a lawsuit to write, and you know Harvey has papers to modify. It's only you, the brain-dead billionaire..."

Bruce reclined on the sofa, closed his eyes, and waved his hand, not saying anything more. It was evident that he had had quite a few drinks. Harvey draped his coat over his arm and said, "I'll take him back. Let's not let him get too drunk here."

"He has a mobile phone in his pocket. Find it and call his butler to send a helicopter to pick you guys up. Don't drive," Schiller advised.

"In Gotham, what's a DUI? I can still hit 120 mph..." Bruce slurred.

"Yeah, our genius racer..."

After Harvey had taken Bruce away, Schiller walked to the other side of the living room and picked up the telephone handset to dial.

Soon, the lights in the Manor gradually dimmed, and Gotham's night plunged into profound darkness once again.

The next day, Seldon, the principal of Gotham University, sat in his office, arms crossed, and said with a puzzled expression, "You're saying Professor Rodriguez is hospitalized and injured?... Well, send a colleague to check on him."

In the afternoon, lying in the hospital bed, Schiller took the flowers from Anna's hands and said, "Oh, thank you, I'm truly grateful..."

Just as he was about to continue, Gordon burst in. Seeing outsiders here, he hesitated. After Anna left, Gordon looked around, taking in the luxurious decor of the high-end hospital room in the center of Gotham, a single room. Schiller lay in the bed, covered by a blanket, and his face showed no signs of injury.

Gordon approached, hands on his hips, and said, "I heard you were attacked last night, damn it, I should have arrived a bit earlier..."

Schiller smiled, seemingly unfazed. Gordon said, somewhat irritated, "You're actually laughing about it, and you knew those people from Metropolis were likely after you. You didn't raise your guard and let them succeed. Where are you injured? Organs or bones?"

Then, he added, quite frustrated, "And where's that Batman? If he had stayed with you, this wouldn't have happened!"

"You have quite the faith in him, but I don't want him crashing at my place. His butler is scarier than anyone else who might show up."

"Seriously..." Gordon looked Schiller up and down. "Are you really injured? I can't see a thing."

He glanced at his watch and said, "We left the scene late at night, and it's just past 7 AM now. Did your wounds magically heal this quickly? Even if it was just a knife graze, it should have taken at least a dozen hours, right? Or is the medical technology at the central hospital this advanced now?"

Schiller waved a hand, indicating for him to calm down. He then lifted the blanket, sat up, and got out of bed, walking to the window with a lazy stretch. Gordon stared wide-eyed, watching him move effortlessly as if nothing had happened.

"Damn it! You're not injured at all!" Gordon exclaimed. "I rushed here after getting the message in a hurry!"

"I'm touched," Schiller said. "Your old pickup managed to get from the police station to the hospital in just 20 minutes. Did you install a propeller on it or something?"

"I told you, I was the top of my class in the police driving course!"

Gordon shook his head and said, "Is that the point here? Isn't the real issue why you pretended to be injured? Are you finally fed up with those students at Gotham University?"

"Of course not... Well, okay, maybe a bit, but that's not the point..."

"Do you know how I got this information? This morning, the police station was in an uproar because they heard that Arkham Asylum is temporarily closing due to a lack of a chief physician. I've never seen them so upset..."

"Yeah, Arkham Asylum closing is causing grief not just for the police."

Frowning, Gordon, not one to be slow, said after some thought, "The gangs won't just give up because of this. They've invested a lot in this industry inside the mental hospital. They won't willingly stop, it's like the final step in making a pizza; they won't stop."

"You being 'injured' will make them try to find out what happened. The police already know it's you. Those mob bosses won't have a reason not to know."

"But how can you be sure they'll go after the people from Metropolis and not try to replace you with someone else, as they did before?"

"You're injured, but that doesn't mean the mental hospital has to close. They don't know this is your plan. They might just think, 'Well, if the chief physician is sick, we can get a replacement, can't we?'"

"They indeed don't know, but Falcone does. That's enough."