In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group

Silence reverberated within the empty room, and finally, Batman spoke, "Everything I've done, all the trials I've endured since that day, it has all been for revenge."

"The law and judgment tell me that it was Joe Chill who killed my parents, but I know the truth is not so simple. I spent years preparing myself to challenge that verdict."

"Now... it's time for the Bat's revenge."

As the somber evening bells of Gotham Cathedral tolled, Batman's figure vanished.

Recent activities within the Edward family had Batman, who watched over all of Gotham City, realize that before they rose to prominence, the Edward brothers had been leaders in the very alley where his parents met their death.

But now, the Edward brothers were gone, leaving only their nephew, and young Edward had crossed The Godfather, Falcone. If Falcone wasn't willing to spare him, the Edward family would cease to exist.

Batman made his way to young Edward first; he didn't need to send someone like The Godfather, he could appear in the shadow behind anyone.

The next day, Gotham was shrouded in a lingering fog, and later in the evening, twilight cast even more colors across the Gotham skies.

Schiller stood outside the church, conversing with Father, blending seamlessly into the Western-style surroundings, attending church regularly and not appearing out of place at all.

Father was deeply knowledgeable about theology, and Schiller enjoyed discussing philosophical and theological matters with him, all while discreetly gathering intelligence.

Father had spent his entire life in Gotham, witnessing all its epochs, knowing all its stories.

Father said, "Lately, the laborers at the pier haven't been coming here as often. Perhaps their businesses are doing better, I hope that's the case. The Lord tells us that we must work hard to atone for our sins."

"Recently, there have been more merchant ships at the pier, and the ship owners are doing better," Schiller remarked.

"I remember many years ago, there was a time when many laborers liked to come here to pray. The church has never been so lively."

Father's voice carried the marks of the era, like old tracks worn by history, faded and worn.

"You can tell that they weren't busy at that time, perhaps business was slow, and many people complained. Some were very angry, and there were even disputes. I did my best to dissuade them."

"You are a good man," Schiller said.

Father squinted his eyes as he reminisced. He said, "In those days, chaos reigned everywhere. I remember, back then, a man named Leif ruled the pier, and he was not to be trifled with. People called him 'Big Beard,' and some even referred to him as the Viking Pirates."

"He was big and strong, with a full beard, leading a dozen equally strong henchmen. They ruled the pier with an iron fist, and no one dared to challenge them. They extorted protection fees from other businesses."

"Then, who brought them to justice?"

"Falcone, The Godfather himself, dealt with them."

Father touched his slightly withered fingers, a sign of aging, and continued, "Originally, it should have been The Godfather who took control of those piers, but for some reason, it ended up in the hands of the Edward family."

Father shook his head and concluded, "I'm not saying that the Edward family didn't manage it well, but perhaps if Falcone Family had taken over the piers back then, the entire East District would be more unified, and Falcone Family would be even stronger than they are now."

"I often hear people say..." Schiller began, "that The Godfather's control over the East District is weak because he only controls some parts of the northeast and southeast, and he neglects the most important pier."

Father shook his head again and said, "Perhaps he has his own plans."

Schiller pondered, and Father's revelations weren't secrets; they remained obscure because few who lived through that era were still around.

Of course, as for why The Godfather hadn't completely taken control of the piers, Schiller speculated that there might be more complex disputes at play.

After dark, Schiller bid farewell to Father and walked out of the church alone.

As the last rays of the setting sun sank below the horizon, he heard the heavy tolling of the church bells above him, seven deep and ominous chimes, carrying an indescribable sense of decay.

Father stood at the church's entrance, making the sign of the cross over his chest, and whispered, "These are funeral bells... May God bless your soul..."

Schiller stood outside the door, and as he turned around, in the midst of a deep gray haze, he saw a figure in black and yellow standing atop the tall church bell tower.

On the other side, young Edward lay prostrate on the ground, facing two pointed ears in front of him. He stammered, "I only know... I only know that back then... The Godfather put an end to the chaos in the East Pier, and my father and uncle wanted a share, even if it was just one pier..."

"But, but The Godfather suddenly didn't want any of them... So, our family got all five piers. I don't know what happened... I was too young at the time. You'll have to ask The Godfather; I really don't know anything..."

After the bat's shadow departed, young Edward trembled as he climbed to his feet from the ground. He muttered a curse under his breath, but suddenly, he saw another shadow in front of him.

He looked up and saw a massive umbrella aimed directly at him. Behind the umbrella, a sinister eye stared at him. Just as Edward was about to scream in fear, his vocal cords and throat were severed.

After a faint sound and the thud of a heavy object hitting the ground, the lights in Edward's old mansion went out, and everything fell silent.

In the end, Batman made his way to Falcone's mansion. It was pitch black inside, as if no one was present. Unlike the Edward mansion, which was well-lit and guarded throughout the night, the residence of Gotham's Godfather seemed defenseless, which Batman knew was abnormal.

Finally, Batman reached Falcone's office, where Falcone sat alone as if he had been waiting specifically for him in the early morning office, devoid of anyone else.

"I knew you would come," Falcone said. "You weren't careful enough when investigating the old Edward's records."

"That must mean there's something particularly interesting about his records, something that you care about," Batman replied.

"Indeed, do you have an interest in hearing stories from many years ago?" Falcone continued.

Batman listened intently as he learned about the turbulent era he had never seen or heard of from the man who had ruled Gotham for forty years.

"...They gathered allies and were ruthless. Among them, the Viking Pirates, led by Leif, were the most formidable."

"I understand that if I want the Falcone Family to truly establish itself here, I must take him down."

"The bearded man, through years of extortion and controlling the shipowners, amassed a considerable fortune. He was not content and wanted to resist me."

"So, I killed all his family in front of many people, and then I stuffed him into a powder keg."

"Of course, that frightened many, making my plan go smoothly."

"What I want to know is about Park Street," Batman said.

"Don't rush; we're getting there," Falcone replied, turning his chair slightly to face Batman. "You resemble your father in some ways," he nodded, "very much so."

Before Batman could respond, Falcone continued, "I cleared out the major powers on the Pier at the time, but I didn't take control of it myself. Instead, I handed them over to the Edward family, and this has to do with your parents."

"Your mother was a good person, a kind lady. She sympathized with the laborers on the Pier, feeling that they worked too hard for too many hours a day. Your father agreed; they believed these poor people should be treated better."

"So, they prohibited the gangs from bullying the laborers and established a more relaxed work schedule for them. You know, working for only a few hours before taking a break to eat and drink."

"The Wayne Family was determined to reform the entire order at Gotham Pier. But I knew... I knew."

"I knew that what they were doing wouldn't work, but I didn't want to oppose the Wayne Family, so I withdrew and let them handle it their way."

"I let the Edward family control all of Pier, and the Edward brothers were rather clever."

Falcone lit a cigar, and the dim firelight cast sharp shadows over his face, obscuring his eyes and offering glimpses of the young Godfather who had once dominated that era.

"So, did Edward hire that thug named Joe to kill my parents?"

As the smoke from the cigar wafted, Falcone's speech slowed down, as if his memories were becoming distant and unclear.

"The ones who actually did it? No, it wasn't them, not Edward."

"The real culprit was a Pier laborer named Luis."

"A laborer?" Batman felt incredulous. He asked, "Why? How could it be a Pier laborer?"

"I know you can't understand. The Wayne couple helped them, yes, the laborers didn't have to work as long every day, and they were no longer subjected to the gangs and shipowners' abuse. They found their savior."

Falcone shook his head and continued, "But you don't understand. Among the laborers, there were also distinctions. Carrying sandbags and lifting heavy loads was the toughest work, and it was usually the lowest-ranking laborers who did it. The higher-ranked workers only did lighter tasks like allocating manpower and counting supplies."

"Your parents wanted to make things easier for everyone, so they stopped the laborers from doing the hard and tiring jobs. But it caused delays, and the shipowners lost a lot of goods. They'd rather go the long way than come to Gotham Pier."

"I remember... Luis was the third or fourth chief laborer on the Pier. He was closely monitored by the Wayne Family and had to assign the same tasks to everyone, work nine hours a day with a two-hour break in between for meals."

"The cargo sat there, and no one moved it. The perishables and fruits rotted away. The shipowners blamed Luis, and he couldn't afford the losses, so they beat him, broke his leg."

"So, he hired that thug to kill the Wayne couple?" Batman's voice took on a gravelly tone, as if hitting rock bottom.

"He sought help from old Edward, and together they staged that murder on Park Street."

"It must seem absurd to you—Judas betraying his benefactor and causing suffering to his benefactor," Falcone said.

"...But this is Gotham, a place where even the devil takes detours."

Batman closed his eyes, realizing that the truth was vastly different from what he had imagined.

This wasn't a story of perpetrators and victims locked in a battle of justice. There were no simple divisions between black and white; instead, it was like an old, faded gray videotape, covered in the thick dust of that era.

"The small thug who acted and the Edward brothers are dead, but Luis is still alive. If you want revenge, go to 7 Blessed Street, east of the Church. He lives there."

With that, Falcone exhaled the last puff of smoke from his cigarette and closed his eyes.

His fingers were well-maintained, with hardly any wrinkles. The cigar between his fingers had burned out, and the fire gradually extinguished, marking the end of that turbulent era, silently and without fanfare.