Chapter 38

A gloomy and chilly morning in Gotham City, the early air cold and damp with mist, crept through the window gaps onto the balcony, condensing into a string of tiny droplets that sparkled under the light.

Shiler sat at his desk in the office, reading students’ papers; after a while, a file was tossed over from the neighboring desk. Shiler lifted his gaze from the assignment in his hands and turned to read it.

“Campus alcohol ban? Who’s this genius getting himself into trouble now?” Shiler asked.

His colleague Anna stood by the water dispenser, arms crossed, waiting for the cup to fill. “Obviously, our brilliant new president—though ‘brilliant’ is generous; more like someone who doesn’t know his own limits.”

Before Shiler could ask further, Dean Mafi, her bulky frame shuffling, knocked and entered. “Professor Shiler, the president wants to see you.”

As Shiler rose, Mafi stepped beside him, lightly patted his arm, and whispered, “He’s a real hard case. Better tread carefully.”

Shiler arrived at the president’s office. The new president, only days in, was named Xie Dun, Xie Dun Shi Misi—a white man supporting the Donkey Party, rumored to have once led Princeton’s academic affairs office. No one understood why he’d chosen to become president of Gotham University.

As soon as Shiler stepped in, Xie Dun tapped his desk, gesturing for him to sit. He was a textbook white leader—energetic, lionlike. “I assume you’ve seen the memo I issued. Yes, a campus alcohol ban is inevitable.”

“I can’t believe this school ever allowed a brewery truck to drive straight to the front gate. Absurd. If this was the mess left by the former president, I’ll clean it up—right now.”

“You understand, under these circumstances, we must take a hard line. Based on your record, Professor Shiler, dealing with a bunch of kids shouldn’t be harder than handling serial killers, right?”

Shiler caught the implication: You want to make a splash as a new boss, but you need me to be your weapon.

Shiler smiled. “Of course, of course…”

Then his tone cooled slightly. “In fact, dealing with anyone in this world is no harder than dealing with those serial killer psychopaths.”

The president caught the warning in his tone. He wasn’t stupid—at least smarter than the former president. “I’ve heard about the previous turmoil here, but it’s none of my concern. This place needs a new order—and new administrators.”

Shiler smiled. “Your ambitions are grand—to establish a new order in Gotham. I almost want to applaud you.”

“Not Gotham. Gotham University. This will be my domain. I won’t waste time with empty platitudes about responsibility to students. I’ll say this: the former president was a cowardly fool, so he’s gone. But I’m not him!”

As he spoke, he made exaggerated gestures, occasionally tapping his fingertips together on the desk with each emphasis—classic American politician posturing.

Shiler glanced at his watch. “My class starts soon. But since it’s a task from the new president, I’ll see it through thoroughly.”

He left. The new president watched his back, his expression dark. His instinct told him this man wouldn’t be easy to handle.

The next day, a notice of expulsion arrived on Bruce Wayne’s desk.

It read:

“...Due to repeated instances of alcohol consumption on campus and organizing gatherings involving alcoholic beverages, it has been confirmed that over fifty students consumed alcohol you purchased. I regret to inform you, Mr. Wayne, that your enrollment will be terminated, and you must vacate your dormitory within three days. — Professor Shiler Rodriguez.”

The next day, Xie Dun sat in his office, rubbing his forehead, clearly flustered. “I didn’t ask for… hardline action. Yes, hardline, yes—but not this hardline. This is too extreme…”

Inside, the president cursed. What kind of lunatic was this? How dare he issue an expulsion notice to the heir of the Wayne family? He was Gotham University’s biggest donor—tens of billions annually!

Without the Waynes, what good was his presidency?

And everyone said Bruce was a wild, irresponsible playboy—hardly the type to get along with anyone. Didn’t he fear offending the richest man on Earth?!

Shiler kept his emotionless smile. “I believe in correcting excesses with even greater excess. If we dare expel Bruce Wayne, no one will dare violate your alcohol ban, right?”

Xie Dun opened his mouth, but no words came. He couldn’t articulate his tangled emotions. He couldn’t refute Shiler—because Shiler was right.

Who in Gotham University drank the most? Who dared drink in broad daylight? Who got drunk and caused chaos on campus? Only Bruce Wayne. And Shiler was right—if Bruce was expelled, every other student would behave like quails.

But which private university president would dare expel his own board chair?

The president dared not. But Shiler dared. He wished Bruce would just leave—otherwise, Gotham University might one day face the Joker, and that would be another disaster.

Xie Dun wiped sweat from his brow. “First, let’s recall this expulsion notice…”

“I never retract letters I’ve sent. But as president, you may call him and ask him to deliver it to my office himself.”

Shiler mimicked Xie Dun’s gesture, tapping the desk.

“Mr. President, I’m a teacher. Do you expect me to bow and scrape to a student who broke the rules? Courting the board is your job, not mine. My duty is to teach. Whether he’s Wayne or someone else, no one disrupts my classroom.”

“By the way, tell him—if I smell even a trace of alcohol in my class again, I’ll throw him out. Don’t say I didn’t warn him.”

Crazy! Crazy! Xie Dun thought.

What kind of lunatic is Shiler? Why does he keep targeting Bruce Wayne? He’s the richest man on Earth!

“Your stubbornness shocks me,” Xie Dun said after a pause, face dark. “I hope you maintain this hardheadedness forever.”

Shiler smiled. “I will. In countless major cases, I’ve faced the most vicious psychopaths and monsters. Compared to them, Bruce Wayne is like a newborn colt. I hope he learns to stand before he learns to run.”

The president stared at Shiler. His face was unnaturally pale, his gray eyes hidden behind lenses, veiled in a haze that refused to lift.

After Shiler left, the president pressed the switch beneath his desk to activate the recorder. He thought: A spoiled heir could never tolerate such humiliation. Shiler’s words today should be carved on his tombstone.

If one expulsion notice wasn’t enough to ignite Bruce’s rage, he’d add more. What would Bruce think after hearing these recordings?

Xie Dun believed: A young, reckless billionaire like Bruce, no matter how skilled Shiler was, could never match the power of capital. The Wayne family had a thousand ways to make a professor vanish. Even if Bruce wasn’t cruel, he wouldn’t let someone who insulted him repeatedly walk away unscathed.

When Bruce received the recording, his expression was strange. He wasn’t angry. Not at all.

Even if it hadn’t been Shiler, Bruce wouldn’t have been furious. He wasn’t as impulsive or reckless as he appeared.

But after listening, he felt a strange relief. At least Shiler hadn’t thrown another impossible question at him, nor used that worse tone he always did when chasing Bruce for assignments.

Bruce knew this reaction was wrong. How could his standards be so low? Shouldn’t he only be happy when Shiler praised him?

No, no—what did it matter?

Bruce tossed the recorder onto his desk, ruffled his hair. He had to admit: after listening, he couldn’t help imagining that maybe Shiler’s attitude had changed because Batman had been doing well in Gotham.

Of course—he was Batman. Soon, he turned to serious matters.

The president’s targeting of Shiler wasn’t random. He seemed to have access to information only insiders knew—like Shiler’s involvement in the former president’s trial.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. To impose order on Gotham University was really to turn it into his personal fiefdom. And Shiler—a dangerous figure—was clearly his first target.

The next day, Shiler arrived for class as usual, not glancing at Bruce, opened his textbook, and began lecturing.

Xie Dun, who could control the classroom cameras, frowned. Why hadn’t Bruce confronted Shiler? What was going on?

Bruce, disguised as a playboy, had caused plenty of trouble—beaten up several classmates. Though assaulting professors was wrong, to a billionaire, there was no one he couldn’t hit and no one he couldn’t pay off.

Then he saw something even more unbelievable: during assignment collection, Bruce handed in a thick stack of paper—by its thickness, he’d actually written the full 3,000 words.

When had Bruce ever turned in an assignment? Which professor at Gotham University dared accept his work? Which course dared not give him a perfect score?

Thinking this, the president opened Gotham University’s grading system. He found that in Shiler’s psychology course, Bruce’s assignment score was under two points—bottom of the class. The professor’s comment read:

“As a wealthy man, he certainly fulfills his duty to enjoy life. As a student, he’s utterly terrible.”

The president’s hands trembled. This wasn’t an internal site—it was the official portal every student checked at term’s end. Everyone could see every professor’s comments—and leave their own.

The president scrolled down—and there, beneath Bruce’s name, was his comment to Shiler:

“I promise I’ll complete all assignments next semester. If I do, can you raise my assignment score to two points? Or 1.8? If I get over 90 on the final exam, I sincerely hope you don’t deduct all my credits—even deducting just one point would be fine.”

This was just “Teacher, I’m bad, please pass me” in disguise.

The president’s face darkened. He slammed his laptop shut, seething. Countless people dreamed of connecting with the Wayne Group—it meant enormous profit. The president was one of them.

But now it was clear: he had no chance. Bruce didn’t care if he was president of Gotham University. To Bruce, the presidency was just a position he could swap out anytime.

But it seemed Shiler had actually tamed the richest man on Earth. Xie Dun thought: He must remove Shiler. To advance, he needed to become indispensable to Bruce. Shiler was his biggest obstacle.

On the other side, Bruce began to resent the new president.

Because when Bruce returned the expulsion notice to Shiler, Shiler might as well have had “Just get out” written on his face.

Before the new president arrived, everything had been smooth—communication with Shiler, cooperation with Gordon—all beneficial to Batman’s work.

Then the new president suddenly imposed this alcohol ban, giving Shiler another excuse to expel him. Bruce naturally felt annoyed.