When Gordon woke up, there was only a small desk lamp on the dim ward. Schiller was dozing off on the chair next to him. Hearing Gordon's movement, he woke up and took off his glasses, and then said, "I said you will wake up when I was with you..."

Gordon couldn't speak yet, he carried a respirator. Schiller said: "You were seriously injured, a little too serious. After more than twenty hours of rescue, he barely saved his life. It is also unknown whether you can recover completely."

The psychologist's voice always carries a calming power.

Gordon blinked, and he really couldn't do more, Schiller yawned and said, "Thank you, your partner, he arrived in time and saved your life."

"But I'm a little sorry. The group of people who were chasing you seemed to be coming for me."

Gordon shook his head slightly, knowing that these people were just hired killers, and even if Maroni didn't hire them, he would hire others.

Just as Schiller was about to continue speaking, the door was opened, and Harvey walked in and said, "Are you awake?"

Schiller nodded and stood up from the chair, Harvey said, "Switch me, you go and rest."

Before leaving, Schiller glanced at Gordon. This detective, who usually looks energetic, now looks extremely haggard. The double torture of body and mind has made him feel a little dazed.

The corridor of the central hospital was pitch black in the late night, and only the footsteps of Schiller's leather shoes echoed very clearly.

When he arrived downstairs, a car was parked at the entrance of the hospital. A tall man in a suit walked down to open the door for Schiller. After Schiller got in the car, he said, "Come jazz."

Soon, some light jazz music started to sound, adding a little fresh air to the dull atmosphere inside the car, and the streaming light outside the car was still flashing.

Schiller closed his eyes as he was sleepy. The person sitting in the passenger seat obviously did not expect Schiller to fall asleep like this. This professor is really different from ordinary people, he thought.

When the car drove to the place, Schiller had not yet woken up from his drowsy sleep. The light sleep just now made him even more sleepy.

Following the wooden stairs, Schiller walked into the room, Falcone was sitting behind the table in a suit, as usual, and Evans was also standing behind his father in a suit.

Schiller sat opposite the godfather, drew a cross on his chest, and said, "Good evening, godfather."

Falcone waved his hand first, and the tall man in a suit came up. Falcone took out a box of cigars from under the table. His assistant cut the cigars. Schiller was about to refuse, but Falcone said, "I heard that you like smoking cigars, and I just happened to like them too, so let's have one."

Schiller adjusted his position and leaned his back completely against the back of the chair. He did not hide his burnout expression at all, but he took the cigar and Evans came over and leaned over to light a cigarette for him.

Schiller took the cigar, glanced at him, and said, "I haven't seen you in formal clothes yet, and there will be many girls chasing you at the dance."

Evans smiled humbly and said nothing, retreating behind Falcone.

"You have changed a lot, I can tell." Falcone said that the godfather still looked very elegant when smoking a cigar. He just took a nap and waited for the smoke he vomited to disappear before speaking.

"The first time I met you, I knew you were not from Gotham, but now it's much better, and that's great."

"When you are full of vigilance, you will find that everyone is against you, but when you truly regard this place as your home, you will find that anyone can find their fellow people here."

"Maybe because everyone is a potential criminal," Schiller said.

"What you surprised me a little was that you didn't question why I didn't deal with Maroni."

Schiller said in a low voice: "Maroni is not important."

"You always make me feel incredible. I have seen too many people and geniuses in my life. They are often pretentious. Even if they seem very modest on the surface, I know that their respect is just fearing that I have a gun."

"But I know exactly that Godfathers are awe-inspiring, and it is not a gun."

"You let me see the charm of psychology, and you seem to be able to give the answer I want forever." Falcone said, just letting the cigar on his hand burn slowly.

"I hope Evans can learn the essence of this subject, but unfortunately, I know that he doesn't have this talent."

"His grades are pretty good." Schiller said, "He also worked very hard and was a good student."

"But that's all, right?"

Schiller didn't care about Evans's somewhat disappointed expression. He said, "This is a good thing. Godfather, learning psychology is a dead end."

Falcone looked at him, Schiller took another sip of the cigar and said, "This is not a bizarre metaphor. When you take this science to the end, you will only have two results, either crazy or die."

"Then it seems you haven't chosen any of them."

"Maybe I chose both?"

Schiller began to get more and more sleepy, and the sweet aroma of tobacco caused a wave of sleepiness after wave. He narrowed his eyes, and the light of the whole world was dizzy into white.

"I know Evans is still far from it. He is like his mother. He is neither an absolute good person nor an absolute bad person. This is the most terrible thing."

"What kind of person do you want him to be?"

Before Falcone could answer, Schiller said, “Or, do you want him to be the godfather?”

Falcone was silent.

Obviously he had an answer in his heart, but he was unwilling to admit this answer.

Is it a good thing to be a godfather?

Falcone, who has been the godfather for so many years, can't even give an answer.

"What's wrong with that policeman?" he asked.

Schiller shook his head and said, "He was seriously injured and maybe it would take a long time to get better."

"You can make him fall to Maroni, I won't blame him." Falcone said: "I know these people have no choice, either cooperate or die. In fact, I have been amazed by how I can hold on until now."

"Maybe this is offensive, but his insistence is not because of the godfather."

"Why is that? If it weren't for fear of me, why would he resist Maroni's request for cooperation?"

"Because Maroni stopped him from going out to fight crime."

"so what?"

"He is a policeman, and he thinks it's natural for a policeman to arrest criminals."

"It's very naive, right? It's even a bit ridiculous in this city."

"Good people always don't live long, especially in Gotham." Falcone said with a sigh.

"That's why I'm one of your longest-lived tutors."

Falcone closed his eyes, and after a while, he said, "Evans, go and kill Maroni, and kill him with his own hands."

Evans pursed his lips, then said in a low voice: "Yes, Father."

"As for those who come from the metropolis, I will deal with them."

"It's not a problem for you to do it."

"What are your plans?"

"I've made a lot of money lately, and there's a super mercenary who asks for a very high price, who just happens to be very excited about the price I offer."

"I'll pay for it," Falcone said.

"In your name, God bless Gotham."

It seems that the Godfather is indeed old and he really loves his son. He believes that in the decades of his life, he has never shown goodwill to anyone like this.

Indeed, in the glorious years of the Godfather's past, he did not need to express his opinion to anyone, nor did he dare to ask him to do so. Today, he was able to invite Schiller here and show kindness to him in such a manner, which means that he is really old.

Schiller thought this way, his sleepiness became deeper and deeper. Falcone looked at the person opposite him and gradually closed his eyes. The godfather sighed and said to Evans: "Send your teacher back to rest."

Evans should have been, the godfather stood up and looked out the window. It was a quiet night in Gotham. From the Falcone Manor, only the lighthouse on the coast was flashing with a faint light.

Forty years have passed, and he thought that the Godfather’s friends and enemies have all been destroyed with time, and his life and time together with Gotham’s last era is coming to an end. Only this lighthouse is still lit up all night, and together with him, witnessing the wind, frost, rain, snow, and rise and fall of this city.

Evans looked at his father behind him. Falcone's figure did not look old at all, and was still very tall. He was always so decent when wearing a suit on him.

Finally, the godfather extinguished the cigar in his hand and said, "I just wish that he will really be one of your longest-lived tutors."

On the pier in Gotham East District, the sea reflected the light of the lighthouse, and the waves kept surging like golden fish, and a cargo ship sailed away from the port in the dark.

The smell of blood on the deck had not yet dissipated, and the crew's body was thrown into the cold sea. A burly man standing at the bow of the boat spat on the ground. He said, "This time I lost a lot. I lost a few people and didn't make any money."

"Don't worry, at least we escaped." Another person next to him answered.

Suddenly, before they were far from the port, the dull bell came from Gotham City. The bell with a clear tremor sounded seven times. The leader of the bow asked in confusion: "Why did they ring the bell in the middle of the night?"

"Who knows? Maybe it's a farewell to us." The man next to him shrugged.

A light sound came from above, and then a black and yellow figure appeared on the mast.
Chapter completed!