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Chapter 16: The Bewildering Gordon

In the world of Pokémon anime and games, Pikachu is far from being considered a powerful Pokémon. Its popularity primarily stems from its adorable appearance.

Whether in the anime or games, Pikachu is undeniably the mascot for cuteness, but its combat abilities are rather ordinary. Especially in the world of the games, it can be considered quite lackluster when compared to the powerful and dazzling Legendary Pokémon. Pikachu's main virtue lies solely in its cuteness.

However, the Pikachu that Schiller encountered was anything but ordinary. It possessed intelligence on par with humans, and in some aspects, even exceeded most humans. With its electric-type abilities and a few other tricks up its sleeve, it was far from the typical Pikachu.

It remained impervious to Schiller's psychic abilities, and the fear gas was merely a minor inconvenience to it. Given the volume of fear gas Schiller had used to set his traps that night, it would have driven most small creatures like Pikachu insane, but it only made Pikachu sneeze a few times.

What's more, it could sneak into Schiller's room while he slept, pick the lock on his door, and hop onto his bed. Considering Pikachu's diminutive size, it couldn't even reach the doorknob without a chair, let alone pick a lock. How this creature, with legs shorter than a human's, and tiny, stubby arms, managed to move a chair in the dead of night, jump onto it to pick the lock, open the door, and get to Schiller without being noticed was a mystery to everyone.

But this Pikachu was clearly more cunning than Schiller had ever imagined. What made it even more disconcerting was the fact that, when Schiller heard its Deadpool-like voice, he couldn't take it as seriously as he would if he were facing Batman. Despite not being able to see Pikachu's face, he always felt like there was someone in a black and red tight-fitting suit murmuring beside him. The whole scenario gave him the creeps.

However, Schiller didn't have much time to worry about Pikachu; Gordon had sent him a text message informing him that they had concrete evidence against Jonathan's crimes and were about to apprehend him.

Capturing Jonathan was not Schiller's concern; he was more worried about not having a source of fear gas in the future. So, he had to act quickly to confiscate the remaining stock from Jonathan.

Jonathan, the future Scarecrow, was having a run of bad luck. Knowing that he was about to be caught, he essentially handed over everything he had to Schiller. The young Scarecrow had no concept of counter-surveillance and was genuinely bewildered by who could have stolen his fear gas.

With his newfound teleportation ability, stealing fear gas became a much simpler task for Schiller. He only needed to blink into the underground of the Morrison District's small church, which was a little over a hundred meters away, grab the gas, and vanish without a trace.

Batman was, of course, involved in the operation as well, as his exceptional infiltration skills were needed. He returned to the laboratory and discovered that Jonathan had developed a fear gas jet gun. He suggested that Gordon let him apprehend Jonathan because the gas gun had the potential to drive all the participating police officers and Morrison District residents insane.

Though Gordon didn't fully trust the man in the tight suit, he had his own reasons. The Gotham Police Department was filled with talent, but apart from himself, they were mostly inactive. They only arrived at the scene after everything had unfolded, and he couldn't rely on them.

This team's combat capabilities were questionable at best, as a single gas jet gun could incapacitate most of the police station. He couldn't expect any help from his superiors either; Gordon had long realized that the current commissioner was in cahoots with certain criminal elements, and he didn't want any additional trouble. A few dozen civilians dying didn't matter; it wouldn't interfere with his money-making endeavors.

Gordon felt helpless and powerless. Batman was the only one he could count on.

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While the current Batman was inexperienced, Scarecrow wasn't much of a threat either. They were both novices in a sense, but in the end, Batman prevailed.

He subdued Jonathan with a tranquilizer needle while the latter was conducting experiments in the laboratory. The Bat-suit's camera captured clear evidence of Jonathan's criminal activities.

Despite the overwhelming evidence, Gordon, a minor figure in the grand scheme of things, was removed from the case. His immediate superior took charge of the investigation, swiftly initiating legal proceedings. It was at least a decent political achievement.

A university professor turning out to be the mastermind behind dozens of murders? In any other area, this would be a sensational headline for days, but in Gotham, it was merely a noteworthy case that occupied a single column on the front page.

Seeing that the newspapers contained no mention of Gordon or Batman and were filled with praise for his superior, Schiller knew that another deserving individual had been let down in this dark city.

Gordon, the good cop, still had a long way to go.

To Schiller's surprise, Gordon quickly sought him out.

In the Gotham University counseling room, Schiller poured a cup of coffee for Gordon. The relatively young detective appeared exhausted, but a sip of the hot coffee seemed to rejuvenate him.

He said, "I know my visit might seem presumptuous, Professor. But regarding the Jonathan case..."

Gordon appeared hesitant to speak, and Schiller said, "Let me guess, the case's proceedings may have gone smoothly, but when it comes to the trial, there's been a misunderstanding, right?"

Gordon clenched his fists on the desktop, his face darkening as he replied, "That damn murderer is a chemistry Ph.D. You should know what that means in Gotham. Some don't want to sentence him to death; they want to exonerate him on grounds of mental illness and then make him work for them."

Schiller sat across from him and said, "Indeed, a genius-level chemistry Ph.D. If he can create even a new hallucinogenic substance, the people employing him could make a fortune."

Gordon shook his head, saying, "It's more than that. The drug they want Jonathan to develop might be even more dangerous."

"If they invent drugs, they could make some money from addicts. But if they truly create a virus that could control everyone in Gotham, the wealth they could amass is beyond imagination," Gordon remarked.

"Has someone leaked information about the fear gas?" Schiller asked. Its effects were outstanding, which is why some people recognized Jonathan's power.

Gordon looked at him, hesitated for a moment, and said, "I don't mean to offend, but I need to confirm: have you recently encountered any suspicious individuals?"

"I can assure you, I haven't told anyone about this. It serves me no purpose. As a university professor, having a colleague who's a murderer is already disgraceful enough. If there were any other connections, it would greatly affect my career," Schiller replied.

"Well then..." Gordon interlocked his fingers and said, "That night, I heard you call that masked figure Bruce. He's Bruce Wayne, isn't he?"

"On this topic, I can't tell you anything. You should seek confirmation from him yourself instead of coming to me."

"I understand your concerns," Schiller said. "As Gotham's biggest business mogul, Bruce Wayne may not be completely unrelated to those shady dealings. And if he finds out you're investigating this, your fate won't be pleasant. Is that what you're thinking?"

Gordon said, "Jonathan mentioned in his confession that someone has been stealing most of his fear gas. That masked figure is my prime suspect; he's just too suspicious."

Schiller felt somewhat nostalgic. The content not found in comics was intriguing. Gordon and Batman, this pair of longtime partners, didn't trust each other from the start. Gordon was highly skeptical of Batman's unusual vigilante actions.

It wasn't surprising; any normal person wouldn't readily accept someone dressed in a black costume with pointed ears, running around Gotham in the dead of night. Such behavior didn't exactly scream 'hero.'

Schiller said, "Have you ever considered that he might have been just as suspicious of you?"

Gordon sighed and said, "Actually, he had more reason to be suspicious of me. If he truly is Bruce Wayne, I know that the Wayne family's children never gave up on investigating their parents' death. The Wayne couple's death was highly suspicious; I've gone through the case files, and there were too many discrepancies. If young Wayne is Batman, he certainly wouldn't trust any cop, including me."

"Gotham's police..." Gordon said with some lament, "I know they're like ornaments in this city, not much can be expected from them." He looked disheartened, sighed, took a sip of his coffee, and fell silent.

Schiller remarked, "As a rock in the quagmire, you're already quite resilient. You can't expect anyone to pull you out. It's better to keep rolling and growing until you dominate the entire quagmire; then, it's no different from a smooth asphalt road."

"Is that what you think? Do you believe I should continue on this road?" Gordon appeared perplexed.

It's not surprising that he felt so despondent. Risking so much and investing countless efforts into solving a case, only to have the credit stolen, was one thing. But now, for the sake of personal interests, they were willing to let a mass murderer go free. It was a significant blow to Gordon, who had initially sought justice.

Schiller smiled and said, "Detective Gordon, it seems like you could use some psychological therapy. Fortunately, I happen to be a psychologist, and I won't charge you."

Gordon managed a reluctant smile and said, "I've seen your resume in the files, Professor Schiller. Having a renowned psychologist like you provide me with psychological treatment can be considered my year-end bonus, regardless of the circumstances. Thank you."

Schiller replied, "No need to thank me. It's an honor to help a good cop in Gotham."

Gordon's smile became even more strained as he sighed, saying, "A good cop? Perhaps..."