Genius on the Left, Madman on the Right (Part 2)

Arkham Asylum’s transformation had not gone unnoticed by Gotham’s Mafia families, large and small. It was not as if no one coveted this juicy prize, but every plan aimed at Schiller had been defused by him as he leveraged the tangled relationships between the various gangs to steer events in his favor.

Compared to Schiller, the gangs that had once given Bruce such headaches now seemed rather dim-witted. Their first thought was assassination. They were well practiced in that; even the smallest gang could dig up one or two assassins.

But Schiller’s deal with Falcone had brought the godfather profits far beyond anything he had anticipated. Falcone was already old and desperately wanted to leave more capital for his descendants. This sudden windfall therefore mattered greatly to him. If this system could keep operating, then the businesses Evans inherited from him would become that much more secure.

For that reason, the entire Arkham Asylum was guarded by the godfather so tightly that not even water could slip through. Schiller, in particular, was under his protection, and Falcone spared no expense in hiring the best security personnel.

Schiller’s irreplaceability lay in the possibility Falcone saw in him: the possibility of creating a new order. If this professor truly could bring more change to Gotham, then the Falcone family, by seizing the initiative, would surely claim the most important place in these new orders.

Among the local snakes, the biggest one was determined to protect Schiller to the death, leaving the smaller snakes with little they could do. Falcone had ruled Gotham’s underworld for so many years that even in old age, his lingering power remained formidable. The gangs had already suffered losses and had even less ability to confront the godfather head-on.

Of course, if they could not kill Schiller, they could find a way to remove him and replace him with one of their own. Not everyone possessed Falcone’s foresight. All they saw was that if one of their people occupied that position, the profits would be staggering. Even setting aside the potential wealth generated by the rules Schiller had created, controlling such a place could multiply their power severalfold overnight.

They truly did not dare confront Falcone directly, much less snatch meat from a tiger’s jaws, but they could still pull a few underhanded tricks.

Gotham’s gangs were full of talent, and naturally, some of them were clever. They found Sheldon, the principal of Gotham University.

Sheldon was an old unlucky bastard himself. Originally, he had wanted to recruit several new professors to counterbalance Schiller, but he had not expected the newly hired Mr. Freeze, Victor, to not only refuse to take his side, but quickly hit it off with Schiller. Before long, the two had become close friends who could talk about anything, and Sheldon’s plans had once again fallen through.

He had barely enjoyed any peace before the gangs came knocking again.

Sheldon was an outsider with no influence in Gotham, but Gotham’s rule was that you needed at least one gang standing behind you before you could speak with any confidence. Sheldon had failed to understand that. The day after he refused those gangsters, he was shot on his way home from work.

The gangs still had a use for him, so they did not kill him. When Sheldon saw those gang bosses again in the hospital, he understood Gotham’s greatest rule of survival: if you had a gun, you had better have more bullets than everyone else. If you did not have a gun, shut up and obey.

Sheldon could rightfully call Schiller back to the university. After all, he was the principal; it was perfectly normal for the school’s faculty to be needed for academic affairs. If a professor refused such ordinary work arrangements, then he would be the one in the wrong.

Sheldon casually made up an excuse. He felt it did not matter if Schiller refused to return, since that would give him an excuse to cause trouble for him. He had been worrying over the lack of a reasonable pretext.

But the day after receiving his call, Schiller obediently returned. His attitude was impeccable and his actions prompt. When Sheldon saw him in the Principal’s office, he could not find a single fault to pick.

Sheldon’s excuse for calling Schiller back was merely some trivial work processing files and the like. So Schiller worked in the archives while remotely directing the situation at Arkham Asylum.

Sheldon had previously enjoyed watching Schiller’s classes through surveillance cameras like a spectator player. After Schiller returned, he similarly kept an eye on the archive room through the monitors.

Then Schiller gave him a true lesson in what it meant for Gotham City to be simple and honest.

Over the following days, from Schiller’s phone conversations, Sheldon heard the names of the heads of Gotham’s twelve largest Mafia families. Within three days, Schiller had exchanged greetings with them at least a hundred times. Alongside those gang bosses’ names came either the names of various contraband goods or coded terms for smuggling locations.

What terrified Sheldon most was how they repeatedly discussed controlling the police, judges, and juries as casually as if they were deciding what to eat for dinner.

Most importantly, one day he heard Schiller say blandly, "…If this mayor will not do, replace him. Gotham’s terrible traffic is half his responsibility. Since he lacks the ability to take responsibility for it, he still has one life…"

On the spot, Sheldon wanted to pack his bags and leave this damned city.

As time passed, the contents of Schiller’s conversations became increasingly outrageous. They began to involve secrets about how the Falcone family had built its fortune, including some of their highly concealed smuggling routes and plantation businesses capable of bringing in enormous profits.

The more Sheldon listened, the more frightened he became. Though he was not a Gotham native, he had spent so long in the political circles of other cities that his political instincts were sharp enough.

By then, Sheldon knew that Professor Rodriguez, this man who taught psychology, was almost certainly far more than merely a professor.

When something exceeded the bounds of human understanding, people always used their imagination to fill in a reasonable explanation. The brain automatically searched its memories for every detail that could support the conclusion. Sheldon was no different.

He thought, no wonder Schiller had dared to send Bruce an expulsion notice so forcefully. He had nothing to fear. This Psychology Professor might be Gotham’s greatest Black Hand, secretly controlling all twelve Mafia families and bearing responsibility for Gotham’s current chaos.

The more Sheldon thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed. Schiller’s astonishing résumé did not look like something an ordinary person could possess, and his perfect escapes from so many murder cases perhaps meant he had also cast such a vast Web elsewhere.

Sheldon felt he was gradually approaching The Truth. Was Schiller one man, or an organization? Whom did he represent? What was he doing? What result did he want?

His own imaginings of those questions frightened Sheldon.

In his logic, Gotham’s gangs were so widespread that it was not too unusual for university professors to have ties to them. At this school, most teachers and professors were connected to the gangs in one way or another. Either they had relatives or friends working for gangs, or they themselves provided professional services to gangs in exchange for safety and a little extra money.

But that was no reason for a professor to contact all of Gotham’s largest Mafia families at once and participate in the godfather’s secret ventures. The evidence that most solidified Sheldon’s belief was Schiller’s tone on the phone. Unlike others, he was neither fearful nor ingratiating toward the gangs.

His tone was always calm, as though everything was under control. Sheldon could tell that Schiller was directing the gangs, not the gangs controlling him.

Sheldon felt he had fallen into enormous trouble. Schiller had the ability to influence Gotham’s biggest gangs, yet he still chose to teach at Gotham University and even seemed to value the position greatly. From Sheldon’s perspective, with such power, why not buy a villa in Gotham’s Affluent Area? Why squeeze into the faculty apartments at Gotham University?

There was only one possibility: staying at Gotham University was profitable for him. Or rather, there had to be something here that Sheldon did not know about, something drawing this mad professor in.

That was right. In Sheldon’s eyes, Schiller was a complete and utter madman.

The gangs were not meek little quails, especially not Gotham’s largest gangs.

The evil of this city was nearly overflowing, and everyone who had drifted through this sea of sin for years had almost been steeped into evil itself. Anyone who could rise to the crest of the waves in such an environment and become one of the foremost figures in this dark city—cooperating with any one of them was no different from seeking a tiger’s skin.

But Schiller had not merely cooperated with them. He had cooperated with all of them at once. Or rather, he had even tried to control them.

Having just witnessed the gangs’ ruthlessness, Sheldon naturally thought Schiller had gone mad.

It was like cutting the deadliest wire from among hundreds or thousands of tangled cables. Make one wrong cut, and those wolves, long accustomed to devouring flesh and drinking blood, would swarm forward and consume such an audacious man completely.

Sheldon began to regret it. Would it not have been better to let Schiller stay at Arkham Asylum? He had finally gotten him out; why on earth had he brought him back?

It was as if he had finally thrown away a ticking bomb, only to somehow pick it up again himself.

At this point, Sheldon prayed frantically that Schiller’s little tricks would not go wrong. If they did go wrong, may they not implicate Gotham University. And even if they implicated Gotham University, may they not implicate him.

Still, Sheldon had not reached his current position without some quick wits. He knew this could not continue. He had to take action.

One morning, Schiller went to the archive room as usual, planning to slack off while working and direct things remotely.

But the moment he arrived, he discovered that the files from the previous day, at least two-thirds of which had yet to be archived, had all been sorted out. Confused, he checked them and found that all the work had indeed been completed.

What was going on? Did he have a Conch Girl helping him?

But with the work finished, there was no need to stay. Still rather puzzled, Schiller headed downstairs. The moment he reached the ground floor, he ran into Principal Sheldon. Schiller raised the coffee in his hand in greeting, but Sheldon passed him with a dark expression without saying a word.

All right, Schiller thought. It seemed this principal still did not like him. But he was used to it. Ever since he had sent Bruce an expulsion notice, the principal had not shown him a friendly face.

The only strange thing was that the principal, who usually liked to make himself look energetic and spirited, appeared rather haggard today, with two enormous dark circles beneath his eyes.