Chapter 27

"For this class assignment, I’d like to specially commend Mr. Robert—his emotional decomposition analysis aligns perfectly with the theory I presented in class. Of course, Miss Hof wrote the most words this time, but I must stress that word count doesn’t equal quality. If you can clearly articulate your argument within 3,000 words, I’d be even more pleased."

"And as expected, one person still didn’t submit their assignment: Mr. Wayne. Come to my office after class. If you still refuse to complete your work, then I suppose you might as well skip the final exam—without any assignment points, even taking the exam won’t earn you credit for this semester."

Xieler closed the textbook in front of him and said, "Class dismissed."

Gotham University is located on the East Coast of the United States, and everyone knows that nearly all famous American universities are on the East Coast—Harvard, MIT, Princeton, and so on.

Gotham University is not a competitor to those schools. Although it is a nationally accredited public university, it is not an Ivy League institution. Moreover, Gotham City is notorious for its terrible public safety, and hardly any American students apply here—even locals who can afford college would rather apply to better schools nearby.

As a result, the students who remain at Gotham University are either those who couldn’t get into other schools or international students.

You can’t expect much from their grades. Most of them submit assignments on time only because of Xieler’s fearsome reputation.

But this still isn’t the main reason Gotham University’s ranking is so low. After all, the university has the Wayne family as an extremely powerful backer—simply pouring money into the institution could attract many top professors. With top professors and cutting-edge laboratory equipment, attracting elite talent would not be a problem. As for public safety, as long as you don’t leave campus, it’s still quite safe.

The problem is that the university president refuses to let the Wayne family exert too much control over the school. Don’t think he’s some lofty idealist—he sees Gotham University as a political asset, and he doesn’t want to hand this fruit over to the Wayne family.

Thus, Gotham University has remained in a half-dead state, and Xieler is deeply dissatisfied. He doesn’t want his flawless resume to include a teaching position at a school ranked at the bottom.

So no matter how chaotic Gotham gets, Xieler just wants to farm at Gotham University. He set himself a small goal: first, get Gotham University admitted into the Ivy League.

They’re all Northeastern schools, and Gotham University’s football team isn’t bad either—what’s wrong with joining the Ivy League?

Until then, whether Batman and the criminals smash each other’s brains out, he doesn’t care.

In the afternoon, Bruce came to Xieler’s office and explained, "Professor, I didn’t fail to write the paper—I’ll have my butler bring the USB drive over right away…"

"Didn’t bring it means didn’t write it," Xieler growled.

He tapped the desk. "If I can’t do anything about Bruce not doing his homework, then others won’t be affected either—you think that way, don’t you? After all, it’s normal for Wayne family members to have privileges."

"But the hundreds of millions you’ve donated to the school didn’t end up in my pocket. So if you don’t write your assignment, I’ll still deduct all your credits—you won’t get your diploma."

Bruce whispered, "Actually, I already have my diploma—the factory that prints diplomas belongs to my family."

Xieler rubbed his forehead. "What’s the point of talking to you, you damn rich kid… How’s your investigation going?"

"Miss Christine never left Gotham University—she disappeared on campus. But this has nothing to do with Jonathan—he disappeared only after Jonathan was arrested."

"Do you have any suspects?" Xieler asked.

"Actually, the university president is highly suspicious."

Before Xieler could question him, Bruce said, "I don’t have concrete evidence proving he kidnapped Christine, but three jurors who actively pushed for Jonathan’s acquittal, along with his defense attorney, all come from a notorious gang in eastern Gotham—the Red Crow Gang."

"And the university president is friends with the gang’s boss—they’ve attended the mayor’s dinner together. Most importantly, his daughter married the head of the Red Crow Gang’s smuggling logistics division."

"But what role does Christine play in all this? As far as I know, she’s just an ordinary girl—only exceptionally beautiful."

"I suspect Miss Christine overheard something about the president’s conspiracy involving Jonathan."

Bruce placed both arms on the desk, frowning. "You know the football season is about to start—cheerleaders have a lot to handle. Their new season’s uniforms haven’t been approved yet, and Christine was anxious about it. She went to see the president—maybe she overheard something she shouldn’t have."

"Do you have any proof?" Xieler asked.

"I’ve stopped fixating on proof. But I won’t confront the president directly either—that might spook them."

Xieler said, "I suspect Miss Christine isn’t dead. If the perpetrator really is the president, he wouldn’t kill her outright—cheerleaders can’t replace their captain so quickly. If the cheerleading squad collapses, it’ll hurt the football team’s performance—and that’s the one thing Gotham University has going for it, part of the president’s personal legacy."

Bruce sighed. "Regardless, Miss Christine is innocent."

"Have you seen Gordon lately? How’s his progress?"

"Not well. If I can find Miss Christine and get her to testify that they deliberately engineered Jonathan’s acquittal, maybe he’ll end up in prison."

"Have you ever considered that Jonathan doesn’t have to go to Gotham Prison?"

"You want me to build a private prison?"

Xieler didn’t answer. He stood up. "Do you plan to go through this whole process every time you catch a criminal?"

"Or do you find it entertaining to spin your wheels in these unjust judicial procedures?"

"With that time, you could’ve cleaned up not just Moson Street, but two or three surrounding blocks of gangs."

"You know better than I do what Batman should actually do, Bruce."

Bruce left again, burdened with thoughts.

Xieler had another problem to solve: if Jonathan goes to prison—no matter which one—the source of Fear Gas becomes unstable. The supply he currently has will eventually run out. He doesn’t have the formula, and he can’t synthesize it himself. Letting such a useful weapon disappear would be a waste.

Xieler is far more cunning than the reckless Batman. He knows the best course now isn’t to interrogate Jonathan for the formula, nor to pull him out of prison and control him—that’s too troublesome and dangerous.

His plan is to find Jonathan a new employer—someone who will force him to reveal the formula, make him work under their control, while Xieler continues to profit by stealing the finished Fear Gas.

Those people won’t use Fear Gas for good—so long as they don’t get their hands on it, what’s the problem?

The answer is zero-cost acquisition: you produce on your end, I steal on mine. Produce as much as you want—I’ll steal it all. With the Gray Mist, how could you ever catch me?

Jonathan is still too green. Xieler guesses he’s already handed over the formula. Once they have it, they’ll have plenty of ways to replicate it.

Xieler knows that since these people plan something big, their Fear Gas production won’t be Jonathan’s small-scale operation. To manufacture it on a large scale, they’ll need a full production line.

Gotham has many chemical plants, but most are unprofessional. The only place with a high-end chemical production line is Wayne Chemical Plant.

No matter how they try to conceal or maneuver, they absolutely cannot bypass Wayne Chemical Plant’s production line to achieve their goal.

With his Gray Mist ability, Xieler can now travel farther at night.

As expected, another rainy night—Xieler saw a car with license plate ending in 676 drive into Wayne Chemical Plant.

In the following days, trucks kept shuttling between Wayne Chemical Plant and other locations, apparently transporting large equipment. Xieler didn’t intervene—he tracked the trucks to their destination for the stolen production line.

As expected, it was in eastern Gotham—the territory of the Red Crow Gang. There was another chemical plant there, smaller than Wayne’s, and all the stolen production equipment from Wayne’s plant had been moved into this small facility.

But fate wasn’t kind—the production line malfunctioned immediately. First, they were missing several machines; Wayne’s line wasn’t designed for Fear Gas, so some equipment had to be bought new.

Second, the chemists they hired weren’t as skilled as Jonathan. Experiments before the production line ran poorly—the replicated Fear Gas was weaker and less concentrated than Jonathan’s.

So all problems came back to one: they had to get Jonathan out of prison. Though Jonathan was a rookie criminal, his expertise was formidable. The Red Crow Gang couldn’t just discard him—they still had to find a way to free him.

Xieler hadn’t expected these gangsters to be this incompetent. They had the formula but still couldn’t produce it. He’d already planned to wait at the production line’s exit, mouth wide open, swallowing every ounce they made.

Xieler’s zero-cost acquisition plan failed—but he wouldn’t give up. Since the Red Crow Gang couldn’t do it, he’d find Jonathan a better employer—someone like Sal Maroni.