In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group

On a Gotham autumn night, a slight chill accompanied the drizzle that fell, casting a hazy, yellowish mist beneath the glowing streetlights. The cold beams of headlights gradually spread from the corners, illuminating the dark alley's end.

The neon lights' vibrant hues reflected off the black car as its door swung open. The driver, holding a black umbrella, stepped out and opened the rear door.

The attendants at the mansion's entrance were dressed in white shirts and champagne-colored vests. They hurriedly placed a carpet under the car door, and their polished shoes touched the carpet as Schiller leaned on the car door, stepping out.

Just as he straightened up, he noticed a guest ahead of him. This guest was handing a massive umbrella to a slender, small umbrella boy. The umbrella was dripping with water droplets, drenching the boy entirely. The nearby servants by the door chuckled quietly at his expense.

Schiller took the umbrella himself and walked towards the entrance. A blond manager warmly greeted him, saying, "Is it Professor Rodriguez? The Godfather is eagerly awaiting your arrival."

Before he could finish speaking, Evans descended the staircase, warmly embracing Schiller and saying, "Thank you, Professor Schiller. I appreciate you coming all this way for my coming-of-age celebration."

"It's nothing. Happy birthday."

As they conversed, Schiller's peripheral vision caught the sight of the boy holding the enormous umbrella. He appeared to be of similar age to Evans but was thin and small, with a hooked nose and a somewhat sinister look. He didn't seem very pleasant as he struggled to fold the massive umbrella, his movements looking somewhat comical due to his frailty.

Schiller noticed that his cufflinks were impeccably fastened, more resembling a dignitary attending a gathering than a servant.

Seeing that Schiller was still holding the umbrella himself, Evans seemed displeased. He turned his head toward the boy, and the manager, skilled at reading the room, approached and tapped the boy on the back of his head, then had someone else take the enormous umbrella.

Schiller held the umbrella's middle section and handed the handle to the boy, who, despite his somewhat cloudy eyes, gave Schiller a sidelong glance before meekly accepting it.

This minor incident did not affect the progress of Evans's birthday party. Surprisingly, Bruce Wayne was also in attendance.

After all, they were classmates, and their social status was quite similar, both belonging to Gotham's upper echelon of society.

Schiller held a glass of wine and was discussing club matters with Evans when the party's main guest was called away by his father. Bruce approached and asked, "Aren't you going to have something to eat first, Professor?"

Schiller shook his head and asked, "You mentioned wanting to lead a club last time. That's quite unusual."

Before Bruce could reply, Schiller continued, "Judging by the quality of the research paper you submitted, you might not be suited for psychology, let alone leading a club."

"Come on, you know why I'm doing this."

"But that's not a reason to clutter my eyes with a pile of academic rubbish."

"Well, how about a couple of hundred million club fees to make you reconsider your academic principles?"

Schiller inwardly cursed but replied, "I suggest you find a better disguise. This constant mingling with the wrong crowd can't be good for you."

"I use ginger juice instead of alcoholic drinks, and those powders that ignite are just ordinary spices."

Schiller remained silent, directing his gaze to Bruce's waist side. Bruce said, "Okay, that might be a bit of a problem."

As they spoke, the central light in the banquet hall illuminated in sequence, and Falcone, accompanied by Evans, descended from the central staircase.

This was an important part of the coming-of-age ceremony, where the elders introduced their children to their social circles, signifying their readiness to participate in social events and take on the responsibility of inheriting the family's industry.

Subsequently, Schiller and other elders offered words of encouragement to Evans. Finally, it was Evans himself. He began with a devoutly drawn cross on his chest and then thanked the Lord.

During Evans's speech, Schiller noticed in his peripheral vision on the right that behind the heavy curtains, there seemed to be a slender figure in the shadows.

However, when the crowd gathered in the center dispersed, the figure was nowhere to be seen.

The party then proceeded with the usual dance and banquet routines. Lights sparkled, glasses clinked, and in the magnificent banquet hall, people engaged in conversations, each harboring their own thoughts.

However, just like Schiller's treatment at S.H.I.E.L.D., hardly anyone approached him to strike up a conversation. Everyone was aware of his remarkable background, and nobody wanted to linger in the presence of someone who could possibly see through their inner secrets.

After a while, the party drew to a close, and Schiller began to feel hungry. He intended to head to the nearby buffet table for some food when he heard some commotion behind the staircase on the right. Soon, a lady in an elaborate dress screamed as she rushed out, shouting, "Old Edward!!! He's collapsed in the bathroom!"

Everyone around hastily dispersed, and Falcone, with a steady voice, said, "Quiet down, everyone. Andy, go see what's happening."

A person beside The Godfather moved away, and shortly after, he returned, whispering a few words in Falcone's ear. Falcone's gaze swept over everyone present, and under the pressure of his presence, not a single person dared to speak.

Falcone stated, "Old Edward is dead, and he died at my son's coming-of-age celebration."

In a banquet hall filled with hundreds of people, the silence hung heavy, as if nothing else existed. Not a single soul dared to breathe loudly, and all minds were preoccupied with the audacity of the one who had dared to disrupt the peace on The Godfather's territory.

Falcone, leaning on his cane, spoke, "Where is young Edward? Have him come see me; his uncle met his demise here, and he ought to pay his respects."

"Furthermore, go to the police station and have them send someone to investigate. Evans, see to our guests and ensure they do not feel neglected."

With that, Falcone exchanged an unspoken understanding with his assistant, Andy, and then turned and departed.

Bruce stood beside Schiller and asked, "You saw it too, didn't you?"

"Yes, but it's not my concern," replied Schiller.

Bruce continued, "It seems young Edward has the upper hand, and the situation with the Pier is about to get chaotic."

"Do you believe Edward was behind this?"

"He stands to gain the most, doesn't he?" Bruce remarked.

Schiller shook his head and said, "I believe the Edward family is the biggest loser here. With the elder Edward gone, everyone will suspect his nephew. And with such an incident occurring during The Godfather's son's coming-of-age celebration, retaliation against the Edward family would not be unreasonable."

"Do you think Falcone orchestrated this?"

"He is more cunning than you imagine," Schiller replied.

Bruce glanced back at the once lively banquet hall, now deserted. Most had left, unwilling to linger in the wake of The Godfather's anger. The remaining remnants of the feast, under the glow of the still radiant lights, seemed even more desolate.

As Schiller was about to leave, The Godfather's assistant, Andy, returned his umbrella. He said, "I apologize, Professor. The Godfather asked me to convey his apologies. None of us anticipated such an incident during your first attendance at the banquet."

"Yes, none of us did," Schiller replied, lowering his gaze to his dry umbrella. He stood under the porch and observed a group of people at the mansion's side entrance, carrying a box containing the late Edward's remains.

They loaded the box into a vehicle, and from the direction the car headed, it seemed they were bound for the sea to dispose of the corpse.

Schiller lingered at the doorway for a moment. Soon, police sirens blinked through the rainy night as a patrol car arrived. Correct, this was Gotham; they didn't wait for the police to handle corpses.

Gordon found himself at a crime scene where there were no traces of the victim or the perpetrator. Even the blood had been cleaned up, but he remained unfazed. He calmly directed his officers and began searching the bathroom.

He didn't investigate or record anything himself; instead, he followed others to meet Falcone.

The outcome of this investigation depended not on what had transpired in the bathroom or what the police could uncover, but solely on one person's attitude—the host of the banquet, Falcone.

In Gotham, when one gang member killed another, the police were caught in a delicate situation. Gordon deeply understood this. In Gotham, being a police officer required more mental fortitude than investigative skills.

After a while, Evans emerged with an umbrella. He hurried towards Schiller and asked, "Professor, I heard you hadn't left yet. Is there something else you need?"

"No, nothing in particular. You know, I'm quite interested in these cases."

Evans wore an awkward expression and said, "Well... it's just a minor case, not a serial murder case or anything. But if you're interested, you can take a look inside."

Schiller shook his head but handed his umbrella to Evans, saying, "Give this to The Godfather for me."

Evans accepted the umbrella, feeling somewhat perplexed.

After Schiller departed, Falcone took the black umbrella from Evans and remarked, "It seems he will be your longest-serving family tutor."

As Schiller sat in the returning car, listening to the rain tapping against the window, he remembered the frail and timid umbrella boy, the guest who had entered before him, playfully taunting the boy with a massive umbrella—the late Edward.

Upon Schiller's return to his apartment, he heard movement on the balcony. Batman stood there, and without turning, Schiller said, "I'm going to investigate the case of the late Edward."

"Why? Gang disputes fall within your jurisdiction, don't they?"

"He was once the leader of Park Street."

Schiller didn't respond, but Batman continued, "He knew who killed my parents."