Chapter 28: Ch.27 Falcone’s Attitude

Chapter 28: Ch.27 Falcone's Attitude

Falcone's reign, in retrospect, was a dictatorship filled with violent darkness.

No matter what business you ran in Gotham, you had to pay protection fees to the families led by Falcone, or you wouldn't survive a day in this city.

Of course, you could call this fee something like a management fee instead, because Gotham was already the city of crime families.

But this created a problem: the rich got richer, and the poor got poorer. After all, those at the bottom of society were squeezed the hardest.

It was like the ocean, where big fish eat little fish, little fish eat shrimp, and shrimp feed on the mud.

Back then, in Gotham, over 90% of the people weren't even considered mud. They struggled to survive in the most basic jobs, barely scraping by with what little was left after paying the protection fees each month. The rest of their money only allowed them to survive, and the next month they'd be back to earning money for the families.

Everyone moved hurriedly and numbly, living the same day over and over under strict surveillance, doing everything they were told to do, no matter what it was.

If people disobeyed even slightly, they'd face beatings or worse punishments, like having their house set on fire, being gunned down in the street, or being tied to cement blocks and dumped into the sea. Everyone was shrouded in this dark terror.

You couldn't even have anything they wanted because they would take everything.

If your husband was handsome, they'd take him.

If your bicycle was decent, they'd take it.

If your sofa fabric was comfortable, they'd take that too.

Even though these actions weren't directly carried out by the Falcone family, the ones committing these acts were small-time thugs attached to minor gangs, who in turn relied on bigger powers, and those bigger powers ultimately served the ten major families.

In other places, if you asked kids what they wanted to be when they grew up, you'd get a variety of answers: scientists, priests, maybe firefighters.

But in Gotham back then, there was only one answer: they wanted to be the boss.

Because the only way for kids to make something of themselves was to join the darkness, follow a good boss, and become the kind of person they hated as children, climbing the ranks through all sorts of dark deeds.

Back then, more than half of Gotham's officials accepted political donations from the ten families. The other half lived under constant threats and intimidation. It was a city without hope.

It was during that time that James Gordon, a retired military man, returned to the city and became a detective. His first case was the murder of Bruce Wayne's parents in an alley.

Back when Gordon initially sought him out for clues during a case, Falcone had received him just as graciously. The emperor of the city and a lowly detective, separated only by this very desk, had talked.

Just like today.

Gordon wouldn't be fooled by him. Maybe thirty years ago, but not today. He still remembered how Falcone's men had "invited" him here.

The Roman had returned, fully armed!

"You've aged even faster than me, Falcone."

Despite the situation, Gordon didn't back down, immediately retorting with sharp words.

Falcone only smiled, still gently stroking his cat. The feline, warmed by the fireplace, yawned lazily in his lap, perfectly content.

"Yes, we're both old. This world belongs to the young now, so I thought I'd come back to see this place one last time before I die."

"There's nothing to see in Gotham. You should leave." Gordon sat opposite him, staring calmly into his eyes.

Falcone's hand paused as he sniffed the rose on his chest and looked at Gordon, puzzled. "Yes, nothing worth seeing... I left you a magnificent city, and you let it become like this?"

"At least people gained their freedom." Gordon closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa.

"What is freedom worth? People don't even dare leave their homes at night anymore." Falcone shook his head and laughed, as if he'd heard a joke. Seeing Gordon's closed eyes, he continued, "You and Batgirl deceived me back then. I don't blame you because I know you wanted a better city."

"I don't blame her either, because someone in my family killed Bruce's parents behind my back. Although it was the Court of Owls infiltrating, it was still the retribution I deserved."

"..." Gordon said nothing.

"Remember? I asked you what you wanted. You told me you wanted a city where people could live peacefully and children could grow up healthy. So I let go. I gave it to you to accomplish what I couldn't. I let you put me in prison. I made you Gotham's hope, and then I left. But this is your answer?"

Falcone calmly placed his cat on the carpet, watching it curl up and fall asleep. He picked up a bottle from his desk and poured the golden liquid into two glasses, the drink glistening in the firelight.

"Gotham... just needs more time. It will get better..." Gordon spoke words he hardly believed himself.

"That's why I like you, Gordon. You always hold on to hope and never give up." Falcone smiled, stood up shakily, and handed Gordon a glass, gently clinking it against his own. "Compared to that little cripple from the Cobblepot family, you're my ideal successor."