American Comics: Opening Guidance Batman

In the afternoon, as the weather forecast in the newspaper said, it started to rain in Gotham.

Schiller was sitting in the manor's study, and the sound of rain outside the window was like the best sleeping pills.

On the messy desk, piles of books left undulating shadows under the illumination of the wall lamp, and the reflections of the inkwell and Schiller's lenses appeared particularly bright in the dimly lit room. He was holding a pen and using complex And gorgeous flower body English to write invitations.

The customs are almost the same all over the world. When you move, you always have to notify relatives and friends to come over. Schiller plans to invite his few friends in Gotham to dinner this weekend.

The rain outside the window is getting heavier and heavier. Some moist air enters the room along the gap of the window. In the light of the light, you can see the tiny water vapor slowly falling on the table. Soon, the part of the desk near the window sill condenses a lot. The tiny droplets of water reflected the fire from the fireplace behind them, like rubies.

The sky was gradually darkening, and the fog colder than the daytime made the glass condense a layer of hoarfrost. Schiller put down the pen, rubbed his wrist, and looked up.

Looking at the entire Gotham from this angle, it is no different, but Gotham in the rain is not only more gloomy, but also more quiet, and even makes people feel a little leisurely.

In any case, the city of the 1980s was always much slower paced than the information society that followed, and Schiller wrote letters all afternoon and didn't leave the study until the footman came to remind him that it was dinner time.

After dinner, Schiller put on his clothes, grabbed his umbrella, and left the house. At this time, the rain had stopped in Gotham all afternoon, and only the cold moist air in his lungs was left, still permeating the city. among.

The puddles on the ground are like mercury mirrors in the dark, reflecting the light of the street lamps into golden fragments, like the fallen leaves that were not taken away last autumn. Disappeared in the waves and splashes of water.

Also like the custom all over the world, when you move, you always have to visit your neighbors.

The public security here is not bad, because anyone who can afford to live and maintain such a manor is either rich or expensive. Although it is no longer as prosperous as the wealthy area in the south, the declining old town also has a kind of Slow-paced old-school vibes.

There is an opera house one street away from the manor where Schiller lives, but there are very few troupes performing here, so it becomes a club for the residents.

Schiller walked to the door of the theater. The waiters here were obviously not that professional. When Schiller reached the steps of the gate, they walked forward and opened the gate. Schiller took off his hat and walked in.

Although it was a cold rainy night outside, it was very warm inside the theater. Schiller's glasses were covered in mist. He took off his glasses, walked to the front desk, and tapped the table lightly.

The foreman, who was dozing off, was dazed for a moment. He raised his eyelids and saw someone. He sat up straight and asked, "Do you have an appointment?"

"I am a new resident who bought the Viscount Manor. All the consumption of drinks here today is on my account. God bless everyone."

The foreman immediately became enthusiastic and said, "It's you, I just received news yesterday that the largest Viscount manor has a new owner. Your vision is really unique. It is such a luxurious manor that is worthy of A generous gentleman like you."

"Don't worry, when everyone comes out later, everyone will know that you are a gentleman who is easy to get along with."

Hearing the compliments that kept coming out of the foreman, Schiller calmly placed a roll of dollars under the bell, and the foreman immediately said, "You don't have to care about the appearance of this building, after all, this is Gotham. The oldest theatre, it's normal to be a little shabby, but our service must be the best..."

As Schiller came down the steps of the theater, he glanced back at what was probably Gotham's oldest theater. It was already full of vicissitudes, and many years ago, it had ushered in one after another. There are also countless actors from well-known troupes who perform here.

But now, it has been completely sparse. The old door face is like a stone tablet that records the history of Gotham. It may have been more exciting than those fabricated dramas, but not many people are willing to watch it again.

It was late after Schiller returned to the manor, but he still had something to write last night.

Thanks to this relatively slow rhythm era, Schiller can not be wary of any indiscriminate bombardment of text messages or phone calls. He has enough time to read books slowly, find the knowledge he needs from paper materials, and then use them. Pens write them down on paper.

Suddenly there was a soft sound behind him, and without turning his head, Schiller said, "Gordon came to visit, at least with a present, so what about you? Uninvited bat?"

Batman's shadow was cast in multiple shadows by the sconces on the wall, and he said, "Wait until the day."

"Gordon is getting married soon. Aren't you going to give him a gift as this straitjacket freak? He's your partner after all."

"I don't have any gifts to give." Batman's tone was always low and gentle, making people sleepy in this late-night room.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Come to wish you a new house."

"I think you turned all the rooms in this manor earlier than me. If nothing else, you should have obtained the architectural design drawings by some means."

Batman didn't answer, he seemed to acquiesce, and he never shied away from showing his excessively prepared, world-skeptical character in front of Schiller.

"Did you read today's paper? Did you see the news about the Iron Curtain?"

"That has nothing to do with me."

"It's a big deal in the world."

"Gotham isn't going to get better, and it's not going to get any worse."

Then the two of them were silent, only the rustling of Schiller's pen on the paper echoed in the quiet room in the middle of the night, after a while, Batman said: "The group of people who came from Metropolis should be I came to hunt you down."

"Then let them come, or do you think the people of Gotham are afraid of the people of Metropolis?"

Batman was silent again.

"I guess you had a fight with your butler, right?"

Batman didn't answer, but Schiller said to himself: "There was once such a person who didn't sleep out most of the night to go racing because he had a fight with his dear 'housekeeper'."

"Why did they fight?"

"Because that person didn't decide whether to marry his housekeeper or not."

Batman was silent again.

"I guess your housekeeper should feel very distressed about your injury, but he doesn't want to stop you from continuing the career you like, so he can only digest this emotion by himself."

"But you find that he seems to be sad, and you don't want to stop your career, and you don't want to make him sad."

"Your extraordinary wisdom and meticulous logic are useless at this time, so you can only run out and race in the middle of the night."

"Let me guess, your new Batmobile should be parked on my doorstep, and the overheated engine hasn't cooled down until now."

"Is there really mind reading in this world?"

"Stop asking such stupid questions."

"If so, can you tell me what Alfred thinks?"

"You're a lot more straightforward than that person, but you're right. In addition to family affection, there is also love."

"Love...the most incomprehensible thing, I offered to tell him the answer, but he refused."

Batman's eyes fell on the ring on Schiller's ring finger, and he asked, "Are you married? Didn't your wife come to Gotham with you?"

"It seems that you don't really want that answer either."

Schiller said: "Then go, you might as well go to Gordon to take you in, stay with me, you will only get the answers you don't want to hear."

Batman said: "This manor is really good, there are 36 rooms, you sleep upstairs in the east master bedroom, there are 35 rooms."

"I won't give you the key."

"I don't need a key."

Schiller put his finger between his eyebrows and said, "But if you don't go home at night, what should I do if your housekeeper comes to me?"

"Why do you seem to be more afraid of him than me?"

"It's hard to explain to you, but I'm really worried about your butler coming to your door."

Seeing that Batman still didn't give up, Schiller could only say helplessly: "Okay, if you want to stay here, I need your parent's approval, go and call him now, I must hear his approval, I can keep you here for the night."

Batman: "..."

"The phone is downstairs, either dial or get out."

In the end, Batman relented, always acting like a kid when it came to issues with his housekeeper, just like Stark did with Pepper.

Schiller didn't mind Batman staying here. He actually didn't mind Batman checking his new home. Sooner or later, there would be this day. 18-year-old Batman didn't check until he was 28 or 38. When I was old, I would always investigate. Everything in Gotham can't escape the eyes of the bat. Schiller is not a clown.

After the meeting, Schiller finished writing his thesis. It was already late at night, and it was already dark outside the window. Only the puddles formed by rainwater reflected distant lights.

Soon, the footman alerted him that the phone was ringing, Schiller picked up the receiver, and Batman was standing in the darkest corner of the living room, listening to him speak.

"Yes, that's right... no trouble, yes, I know, they always do, I've seen quite a few before..."

"Is it? That's still serious... I have a professional first aid kit here... oh, yes? You're such a conscientious housekeeper..."

"I think it doesn't matter..." Schiller looked up at Batman, and for some reason, Batman felt his heart suddenly go up and down, just like after being called to find his parents, he was tremblingly trying to get rid of the teacher. The only words inferred from the parents were the level of anger after the students.

"Okay, don't worry... no problem, so be it... tomorrow morning?...I think so, okay...bye."

Schiller saw Batman open his mouth and seemed to want to ask something, but in the end he didn't ask anything.

"Your housekeeper said you were injured, but he should have treated you," Schiller said.

After he finished speaking, he glanced at the grandfather clock next to him and said, "It's already too late. Your housekeeper said you should go to bed before nine o'clock. It's already more than three hours late. Now take the key and go upstairs quickly."

"I don't need a key."

With the last words left, Batman disappeared, Schiller shook his head, and went upstairs too.

Schiller already knew Batman's true identity, so Batman didn't do anything about sleeping in that bat suit. Bruce was in pajamas when Schiller knocked on his door.

Normally, Batman in a serious state only sees one chin, but now, Bruce's temperament is completely different from his usual, this is a Batman showing his full face.

But it was of no use. He still showed a rather tangled and complicated expression when he heard Schiller admonish him that Alfred hoped that he could rush back for breakfast tomorrow morning.

"I advise you to go back. If he comes to the door, I will never help you. You must know that the teacher will always stand on the same front as the parents."

Seeing that Bruce didn't seem happy, Schiller had to threaten him further: "If I do see Alfred tomorrow, then I'll have to talk to him about your academic situation, this time the final exam. , although you barely passed, but your ranking is in the middle and lower, and more importantly, you missed your homework 6 times in a semester, and more than half of it didn't write enough words."

"I will keep all the homework you handed in. If you don't want your housekeeper to see your nonsense articles and academic **** that is useless other than polluting other people's brains, you'd better go to bed quickly and have an early morning tomorrow. Get up and go back to your Wayne Manor."

Then, before Bruce could say anything, Schiller slammed the door to his room.

At night, Bruce lay in bed, thinking about recent events.

Thanks to Schiller's genius and creative industry chain, the gang has not been popular recently, and Batman's work has begun to become difficult.

During the day, he was busy conducting various investigations in the hospital to decipher the intricate relationship between the gangsters, and at night he had to watch the scene of various fires to prevent them from hitting too high and spreading too much.

After the police have heavy weapons, they are much stronger, but this does not mean that the gangs have no means of countermeasures. If the police use heavy firepower to suppress, the gangs will naturally think of using more ferocious firepower to resist. Constantly escalating, which also caused Batman to be involved in some more ferocious firepower conflicts before he had time to upgrade his various equipment.

This also led to the fact that the bat armor originally prepared for some pistol bullets and cold weapons had no way to defend against the damage caused by fire and machine gun grenades.

A few nights ago, Batman was hit by a bullet from a machine gun. This kind of damage is not comparable to a pistol bullet. Each bullet from a machine gun is as long as the palm of your hand. Fortunately, Batman was only hit by the shoulder. If it hits him firmly, half of his lungs will be completely scrapped.

But it also caused him a very serious injury, arguably the most serious injury he has suffered during his Batman career.

When he rushed back to Wayne Manor, he was already unconscious, and he was able to return to Wayne Manor consciously because his extraordinary willpower saved his life.

Bruce has long known that he is not sensitive to some analgesics and anesthetics, and he often wakes up during the anesthesia. This time it was the same. In the middle of the operation, he saw Alfred sitting alone. on the edge of the operating table.

It was difficult for him to describe the expression of Alfred he saw at that time, which made his heart, which had hardly beat violently for many years, was slammed.

He suddenly found that Alfred had become different from what he remembered, he was much older, and he seemed to be a lot more depressed than when his parents were alive.

Only then did he realize a problem. In fact, the death of the Waynes and his wife did not only cause harm to him.

And maybe, when Alfred found out that he almost had to suffer the same injury again, he became a lot older.

Bruce was lying on the bed, tossing and turning, thinking about what Alfred he had seen dimly.

What made him even more sad was that when he woke up from the operation, Alfred didn't say anything, he didn't stop Bruce from doing anything, he just still prepared breakfast, just like countless Bruce from nightmares Wake up in the same morning.

When sitting at the dining table, Bruce could hardly eat. He was Batman, but he was still a person. Few people can eat with a calm mind in the face of such intense emotional shock.

So he just ate two hastily and left Wayne Manor as if running away.

In fact, he went to Gordon's place first, but he just caught up with Gordon and drove to Schiller's house.

He followed Gordon all the way, and even Batman watched the entire conversation in the dining room.

He also saw Schiller smoking a whole cigar in a chair by himself.

That kind of professor made him feel unfamiliar. He had never seen Schiller like this. He looked relaxed, but he was also very cold and sharp. Although Schiller was often very serious in school, he was very serious. That's totally different.

It was like another person, a stranger.

He thought that maybe the professor he knew before was just a disguise, just like him.

In this crazy city, two lunatics play their respective roles, appearing in a normal social identity, playing the roles of teachers and students who are troubled by trivial daily life.

This may not be a book of "Pride and Prejudice~www.readwn.com~" but a "Self-Cultivation of Actors".

The first act of this absurd drama in Gotham's tattered and rotten theater, on this stage at Gotham University, is eccentric and comical.

The first teacher Batman met on his first day of school, a teacher who looked stern and old-fashioned and didn't seem to want to trouble himself at all, gave him one of his best advices in an unmotivated psychological counseling session. wanted answer.

And after this drama after drama ended, the two actors themselves finally met under the stage.

Putting aside their social identities, the composition of these absurd dramas is not a coincidence. The lunatic always attracts the lunatic, and the eccentric meets the eccentric from time to time. This is just another way of showing things together.

Bruce was lying on the bed, and a drowsy drowsiness struck. He was half asleep and half awake when he heard the dull sound of the pendulum downstairs in the manor, pervasive in his dreams.

In addition, on this cold night in Gotham 1987, all that can be heard is the almost inaudible sound of the wind and the sound of the fireplace burning all night long.