"...Saul and his partners are a bit clever. I remember the first time I saw him, a greenhorn just arrived in Gotham City, extorting ship owners at the dock with a few of his gang. Before long, he caught Lauren's eye from the Red Light District. That redhead took him under her wing and soon bought his first bar; that was over twenty years ago..."
Falcone sat in his chair, puffing on a cigar as he reminisced, "Saul won't let that police chief off so easily. Even if he wants to extract some information from him, in the end, the man will die. You could negotiate for a different demand, such as someone else you want dead or some other troublesome matter to sort out?"
"My problem originates from Metropolis, no need to trouble the Godfather."
Falcone slightly turned his eyeballs, casting him a glance, "Those fellows I helped you deal with seem to be rather significant. Who on earth have you antagonized?"
Shiller looked up, "Godfather, I think I might be the longest-serving tutor your son has ever had."
Falcone tapped the table with his cigar, "I certainly won't let trouble find you as long as you work for me. But you became involved in some peculiar affairs, and now you've hidden here..."
"Aren't you afraid I'll drag the Falcone Family down?"
Falcone swiveled his chair back at him, "When did the Falcone Family ever get ashore? From the day I came to Gotham, I knew that we're all rotten wood from a sunken ship, never to reach shore."
Then he sighed faintly.
"...But my son thinks differently."
Young Falcone, namely Evans Falcone, differed from the old Godfather. He was full of fervor, believing that he could restore order to Gotham.
Indeed, even though he was an heir to a gangster family, he genuinely wanted to reorganize Gotham's order. But this order was built on violence, not actually creating a utopia.
Truthfully, his idea might be even more rational than Batman's. Absolute violence brings absolute authority, absolute authority controls everyone. The only question is whether young Falcone is capable enough.
After a while, the butler knocked on the door from outside, with Evans standing behind him. As soon as he entered, he noticeably paused upon seeing Shiller, then turned and whispered to the butler, "Do you remember me mentioning recently about forgetting homework or failing to turn it in?"
The butler shook his head. Evans seemed to sigh with relief while Shiller stood up, "Evans?"
"You know each other?" Falcone asked.
"Father, this is my university professor. I believe I've mentioned to you about my psychology assignment."
Before Falcone could reply, Evans said, "I apologize, Professor, if there have been any issues with my recent assignments. I've been a bit preoccupied and might have neglected it. If you're unsatisfied, I can immediately revise it."
Then he moved his lips and turned to Falcone, "Father, some recent events in the east district have kept me busy, perhaps neglecting my studies. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience that Professor Shiller's visit might cause."
Shiller realized that there was a misunderstanding, presuming he was here for a home visit, when in fact, Evans was probably scared witless at this point.
He'd long heard of Shiller's fearsome reputation: a relentless demanding lecturer who would reprimand Bruce Wayne in class for not submitting his homework and even issued him with an expulsion notice...
Shiller's infamy as a homework maniac was well-known across Gotham University. No professor ever imposed such strict rules to their students about submitting homework. Anyone who dared not submit their assignment would reap humiliating insults or biting sarcasm in his class, even if that person was Bruce Wayne, chairman of the board of Gotham University.
d but Evans never imagined that he would come here, to the Godfather of the biggest mob family in Gotham, to demand his homework!
Evans lamented in his heart, is this professor mad? No wonder he lashed out at Bruce Wayne like a drowned dog, even the new Principal Sheldon avoids him.
As an heir to a mob family, Evans was initially skeptical of all these wild rumors, but now he truly believed them. Besides, who but a madman would come for a home visit at the Godfather's place?
Shiller's emphasis on homework wasn't surprising. His mentality was still rooted in his previous teaching style. He knew many students struggled to remember all the content of psychology. During the final exams, they often didn't achieve high marks. To pass, they had to rely on their ongoing grades, but if they didn't even complete their homework, they had no ongoing grades to fall back on, and their chances of passing would be terrifyingly low.
If the pass rate was too low, his evaluation would definitely be affected. Despite the lack of a reliable evaluation scheme for professors at Gotham University, and no one caring whether students passed or failed, Shiller was accustomed to this from his past life, and he felt that he hadn't even exerted 30% of his potential. These students at Gotham University, who had received a 'joyous education' from a young age, had already been broken in by him.
If they were thrown into the university where Shiller used to teach, a simple class essay would be enough to kill them. Those students would write 20,000 words for a small essay, and major essays had to meet publication standards.
So, he couldn't understand why some people couldn't meet the word count for a small essay of less than 3000 words. English essays typically have fewer words than Chinese essays. A standard 3000-word essay would only have around 2000 words. Why couldn't they submit all their work on time?
After Shiller used various methods to chase up homework, three-quarters of his class were finally able to hand in their assignments. This of course included Evans, who was one of the better students. He handed in every essay, met the word count each time, and the content was usually pretty good. He'd even come first two or three times.
Shiller believed such a diligent student was worthy of praise. Compare that to Bruce, who was the same year and clearly lacked discipline. In a 2000-word essay, almost a third was 'transition words'. Another third was filled with meaningless descriptions and depictions, leaving nothing but 'the' and 'a'. Other students' hyphens were only two characters long, but he would write an entire row. Despite this, he had the audacity to ask Shiller to pull his grades up.
Falcone slightly frowned and asked, "In that case, how does Evans perform in school? Are there any problems with his homework? What about his exam results?"
Evans took a deep breath, and Shiller said, "Frankly, he is doing quite well. Anna, who teaches advanced mathematics, mentioned to me that Evans' scientific abilities are quite impressive. At the very least, I'd be willing to offer him a postgraduate position. His interest in psychology seems to come naturally."
Falcone directly said, after Evans breathed a sigh of relief at his son's performance, "From now on, Professor Shearer will be your private tutor."
Evans shivered, his back chilled, but he didn't dare to question his father's decision. He could only say, "Alright, father."
Falcone tensioned his arms on the armrests of the chair, standing up. He said, "It seems I need to take care of the troubles you've brought from Metropolis."
Shearer shook his head, "It's a big trouble. I don't think it's worth the price for you to handle this."
Falcone replied, "Being my son's tutor is indeed not enough, but if you become a friend of the Falcone family, we will help our friends with all their troubles."
"Metropolis holds a huge dark vortex that no one could ever imagine. I escaped from it but lost a lot. Gotham people don't need to get involved in Metropolis affairs, right?"
Falcone shook his head. He took another puff of his cigar and said, "You do not know me well enough, sir. Forty years ago, I came to Gotham alone. Then no one had heard of Falcone. Thirty years ago, I was in charge of three streets, and there was no Falcone Family then..."
"I don't want to brag about my achievements, but I have ruled Gotham for forty years; I have ruled this city that was once referred to as Hell."
He tapped the tip of his cigar against the table, the smoke rising from his fingers. He said, "So, you only need to answer 'yes', and all the trouble you've ever faced will bid you goodbye."
Shearer looked at him. Falcone's expression was even calmer than Shearer had imagined.
Shearer thought, this Falcone is not the insignificant villain that Batman faced in the early stages of the comics. He is the unmistakable Godfather of Gotham, the uncrowned king of Gotham.
In a time when Batman doesn't exist, Gotham has never been peaceful. The Godfather ruled here for forty years. There's no way this man could be as foolish and short-sighted as portrayed in the comics.
At last, Shearer stepped forward. He kissed Falcone's right hand and said, "...God bless Gotham, Godfather."
Shearer played with the accent on the last word in his mouth. Falcone perceived that subtle difference, but he didn't mind.
No matter how shining these forty years were, the Godfather was really getting old, and the heir to the Falcone family wasn't mature enough.
Falcone thought, the era of Gotham without a king might be coming.