Chapter 926: Amidst the Misty Rain (Part One) (Patreon)

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As the strong winds of the night gradually subsided, the perpetual dark clouds that had shrouded Gotham's skies seemed to have dispersed somewhat. The following day graced Gotham with an uncommonly good weather, albeit with a slight haze.

Schiller rose early, donned his leather boots, and carried a gardening shovel as he made his way to the garden downstairs.

Meanwhile, Merkel was in the adjacent utility room, holding a pot for boiling milk and pouring the milk into a kettle. Carrying the milk kettle and tea bags, he joined Schiller under the oak tree in the garden, where Schiller was tidying up the water hoses he had taken out the previous day.

Merkel sprinkled some tea leaves into the cups, then poured the steaming milk into them, causing white vapor to rise, carrying the fragrant aroma of English milk tea.

Schiller took the small cup, which had a handle designed for only one finger, and shook his head. "I can't believe we're having milk tea in the morning. Is there no coffee left in the Manor?"

He took a sip of the English milk tea; it tasted quite good, not overly sweet, with the flavor of the tea leaves coming through. Merkel shook his head and replied, "No, sir, we have the coffee supplies and the coffee machine ready. It's just that this weather reminds me of my homeland."

"The U.K. always has this continuous rainy weather. After a strong wind, the weather clears up a bit, and everyone wakes up early."

"At this time, the farmworkers would go to the neighbors to buy freshly squeezed milk. Honestly, the taste is much better than what we're having now..."

Schiller took another sip of the milk tea, and Merkel poured himself a cup. They finished their milk tea under the oak tree. Schiller then picked up the gardening shovel and said, "The situation in the garden doesn't look promising. It seems we'll have to do these chores ourselves. This morning, let's tidy up the broken canopy, and later we'll wash the garden with the hose. We can remove the dead plants tomorrow."

Merkel went inside to change his shoes, and Schiller leaned on the gardening shovel, looking at the chaotic garden. He sighed, but soon after, he picked up the shovel and began digging out the rain shelter supports embedded in the soil.

After a while, Merkel walked over again. Schiller noticed the leather shoes on his feet and asked, "What happened? Where are the rain boots you wore last night?"

Merkel shook his head and told Schiller, "Sir, there was a phone call. It seems to be from Mr. Wayne..."

Schiller furrowed his brow. Merkel took the shovel from his hand, and as Schiller walked to the door, he stomped his feet on the doormat to shake off the soil. He passed through the foyer and arrived in the hall, picking up the telephone receiver from the nearby table.

"Hello? What's the matter? You've only been gone for a few hours, and now... What do you mean? The building in the East District collapsed, and you didn't go to help with the disaster relief?"

"Is that so? Well, it's a good thing. The children are actively participating in the relief work, which can develop their abilities, right?"

"Yes, I know, but even something as small as delivering food can involve a lot of people. Copperpot did a good job this time... What? Someone got hurt?"

"How could the children get hurt? Weren't they just delivering things? A mentally ill person suddenly went berserk? Who got injured? Please don't tell me it's... Alright, I understand. I'll head there right away."

Schiller hung up the telephone, rushed towards the staircase, and Merkel, who had just come in, caught up with him, asking, "What's going on? Where are you going?"

"Help me prepare my coat. I need to go to the redevelopment project, specifically Building Number One in the demonstration area. One of my students was injured; he was attacked by a mentally ill person who suddenly went berserk. I need to see what happened."

"Oh, and call Brand on the telephone, have him come as well. They might need his help with pathology analysis."

Merkel nodded and immediately went to fetch the coat. Schiller went upstairs, changed out of his work clothes, and put on his formal attire. He tied his tie, and as he descended the stairs, he took the windbreaker coat from Merkel's hands.

"Doctor Brand said he's at the hospital right now. Mr. Wayne invited him for a consultation. The driver is waiting at the door, and the umbrella is placed in the back seat for you..."

Schiller nodded, and after getting into the car, he furrowed his brow while looking at the umbrella outside the window.

It was a rare good day in Gotham, but the sunlight was not particularly bright. The sky remained overcast with mist, although the cloud cover wasn't as heavy, lacking the usual oppressive darkness.

However, the air was filled with a thin mist, and the humidity was higher than usual. Taking a breath, it felt cool in the nostrils, chilling down to the lungs.

On the streets, puddles of water interconnected, with most of them adorned by golden fallen leaves blown down last night. Due to the warming temperatures, some puddles emitted fine white mist, resembling a steaming bowl of soup.

Occasionally, bicycle bells rang from across the street. In some yet-to-be-renovated areas, newsboys raced in groups. Schiller observed the newspapers in their hands and asked, "Mr. Driver, do we have newspapers? Any major news today?"

The driver, an elderly local, gently tugged at his gloves and said, "The newspapers are in the compartment on your left car door, but I wouldn't recommend picking them up. The weather is quite damp, and the ink hasn't dried yet. You might get it on your hands."

Schiller halted his reaching hand and listened as the driver continued, "Speaking of today's news, it's undoubtedly the collapse of the buildings on Broken Basket Street..."

"Sir, like yourself, perhaps you haven't been to those streets. The houses there, unlike your Manor, weren't built all at once; they were added onto by people over time."

"This kind of housing isn't very reliable. Last night's powerful typhoon caused the collapse of the building at the far end of the area. Initially, it was just that one building, but the houses there are closely packed and not very stable. As a result, six buildings collapsed in succession..."

Schiller frowned and asked, "What's the casualty situation like?"

"The buildings there aren't very tall, unlike the downtown area with buildings reaching thirty or forty stories. The highest of those six collapsed buildings was only six stories tall, and the construction wasn't very sturdy. Thankfully, no one was crushed to death, but there are a few serious injuries. They've been taken away by the Wayne Group's ambulances."

"I heard that the Gang is involved in the relief efforts, and the children from the redevelopment demonstration area also went?" Schiller inquired.

"Gang is certainly participating in the relief efforts." The driver honked the horn gently, urging the vehicle in front to move faster. He continued, "In the past, when accidents like this happened, it was always Gang handling the relief efforts. This time, that rich person Wayne also got involved, which has improved efficiency."

"As for those children, they did quite well, but I heard that there was some conflict there. One of the injured casualties seemed to have gone insane and started attacking the people trying to help him."

"After a day's work and with empty stomachs, the Gang members were quite angry. A conflict erupted between the two sides. As for the children..." The driver shook his head and said, "They probably didn't get involved. Those little rascals are experts at running away."

"In a real Gang shootout, they can disappear in an instant. This time, it was just a brawl; they should have had no trouble avoiding it."

Schiller nodded, but his tightly furrowed brow didn't ease. If what Bruce had said was true, and Jason had been injured during this brawl, the situation was likely much worse than what the driver described.

Firstly, Jason was the children's leader, and when a fight broke out, the other children would protect him. It was instinctual for them to safeguard the group's interests, and Jason wouldn't be so easily targeted.

Furthermore, Jason was quite skilled in fights. While he might not compare to the genius of Batman or the naturally athletic Dick, among ordinary children, he was considered a formidable fighter. He shouldn't have been the first to be attacked and beaten up.

Even if he couldn't win, Jason wasn't the type to stubbornly refuse to run. As the driver mentioned, the children of Gotham were experts at survival, and escaping was their top-notch skill.

With these thoughts in mind, Schiller got out of the car. He made a phone call outside Building Number One, and after a while, Copperpot came down. The moment they met, Schiller noticed that Copperpot's expression was somewhat grim. So he asked, "What happened? You look too serious..."

Copperpot shook his head and didn't say anything. He simply led Schiller into the elevator and took him to the 15th floor, where Jason lived.

Upon pushing open the door, Schiller saw several children gathered around Jason, who was lying in bed. Copperpot waved his hand, and they reluctantly left the room. In one of the narrow rooms, Schiller went to the bedside and examined Jason, noticing that his condition had deteriorated.

Schiller glanced around and Copperpot immediately understood his intent. He left the room and returned a moment later with a chair. Schiller sat at the bedside and reached out to touch Jason's forehead.

"He's running a fever. Don't you have any fever-reducing medicine?" Schiller asked.

"We do. He was given some two hours ago, and it was already the maximum dosage he could take at his weight," Copperpot said with some concern. He could see that Schiller cared deeply for Jason.

Not only Schiller but Copperpot also held Jason in high regard, thinking that he would be a valuable ally in leading the New Order. However, Jason's condition was not promising. Being from the East District himself, Copperpot understood that once even medication proved ineffective, the situation was critical.

Schiller frowned deeply and asked, "I heard he got injured. Where is he hurt?"

Copperpot approached, pulling Jason's arm out from under the blanket. Schiller rolled up his sleeve and saw three deep wounds on his forearm, looking like they were caused by scratching with nails.

Just then, Tire pushed the door open and said, "How is Jason?... Oh, Copperpot, you're here too. My goodness, Professor Schiller, you've finally arrived..."

Tire wore a guilty expression and said, "Please, you have to help Jason quickly. This is all my fault; Jason got injured trying to protect me!"

Schiller had no intention of blaming him. Instead, he turned to look at Tire and said in a calm tone, "What happened exactly? Weren't you just going to deliver some food? How did it turn into a fight?"

Tire stomped his foot in frustration and said, "It's not really our fault; it's those crazies... Well, maybe we can't entirely blame them either; let's blame it on the typhoon."

"Last night's typhoon was unlike anything Gotham has experienced in over a decade. I live on Broken Basket Street, and six buildings collapsed, injuring quite a few people. The Gang went to help with the relief..."

"I know all of that; tell me what happened afterward."

Perhaps Schiller's calm tone reassured the anxious Tire, who took a deep breath, organized his thoughts, and began his explanation:

"Last night, when Copperpot told us about delivering food, Jason suggested that he should cook for us. We all approved of the idea, so all the children quickly started preparing..."

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 927: Amidst the Misty Rain (Part 2)