Chapter 6240: Chicago Memories (10)

Another overly quiet night. It seemed the murder on campus hadn’t stirred up any waves. But in the morning, Bruce vaguely heard the sound of police sirens. His dreams were too chaotic, and he didn’t wake up. By the time he awakened, the sun was already high in the sky. He sat up from the bed and looked out the window, watching students pass by below, laughing and chatting.

In this era, without cell phones and the internet, news traveled slowly. It was normal that some students didn’t yet know about the murder. Perhaps some teachers would mention it in class, advising them to be careful. But classes hadn’t started for freshmen, so naturally Bruce hadn’t heard any news.

He put on a thick suit and a coat on top, preparing to go out and investigate. But before he even left the room, he heard voices speaking outside.

“It seems something happened with the Brotherhood. I was woken up by sirens this morning. Did you hear it?”

“I also heard about it; it seems someone was taken away by the police. What did they do? Won’t it be another…”

“The initiation ceremony is tonight. Even if last year’s accident repeats, the police wouldn’t come this early. Besides, last year’s incident nearly led to the dissolution of the Brotherhood; they should be more restrained this year.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. This year their leader is Patsey, and that guy is a madman, once made someone uncork champagne with their teeth, sending them to the hospital. This year’s newcomers will suffer.”

“It’s best not to hold the event because of this. I don’t want to hear the old professor’s rambling…”

Bruce opened the door and saw the figures of two boys heading downstairs. They weren’t freshmen; they must live upstairs and were heading down to class. Bruce caught a vital piece of information: something happened last year that caused big trouble for the Brotherhood.

“What are you standing there for?” Stark’s voice came from the stairwell, carrying a huge fish. Bruce slightly widened his eyes.

“You caught that?” Bruce was somewhat surprised.

“No way.” Stark scoffed, “If I had caught it, I’d be circling the teaching building right now. It was given to me by a client.”

“Is the communal kitchen over there?” Bruce glanced down the corridor. Dorm buildings had communal lounges and kitchens, though students mostly wouldn’t make proper meals, just sandwiches. Handling fish here would be tricky, probably splattering blood and guts everywhere.

Stark shook his head: “I made a good deal today. Let’s go eat out, the Chinese Restaurant by the river should handle this thing.”

“I’m just afraid they have a seventy-pound fish.” Despite his words, Bruce tightened his coat and followed Stark downstairs. Together, they headed towards the Chicago River.

The business district and restaurants along the lake were mostly fancy, naturally expensive. But by the river, it was much better. This was the immigrant area, with Chinese, Black people, and Latino communities. Despite poor security, there were many good eateries without the fuss of pricey places.

Stark casually chose a decent-looking place, asked the owner if they could handle the fish. After ordering some dishes and paying a processing fee, they sat down. Bruce had some insights into selecting Chinese Restaurants, but he didn’t guide Stark. One reason being it’s the host’s treat; he shouldn’t be picky. Another was he feared choosing too authentic and encountering a genuinely Chinese person.

This restaurant was between American-Chinese and authentic Chinese cuisine, seeming like the place with two menus. While Bruce was taking in the surroundings, two girls walked in, chatting enthusiastically as they ordered.

“I don’t know why you always eat here; couldn’t you buy stir-fried noodles from the cart next door? Or are you just too hungry to wait and eat in the classroom?”

“I ate in the wind, had diarrhea for days, never taking out food again. Besides, I’m in a good mood today.”

“What’s up? Did you break up with that Michelin tire or did extra volunteer work last time boosting your extracurricular points?”

“I called you to wake up early this morning, but you wouldn’t. You have no idea how hot the new officer is, the butt is simply…”

At this point, the girl behind instinctively glanced back and found two others behind. She was startled, quickly shut up, then turned back with an awkward smile at Bruce and Stark.

“Police came this morning?” Stark curiously asked, “What happened?”

“Oh, are you freshmen?” The blonde girl turned back to look at them and said, “It’s the Brotherhood’s matter, seems someone died.”

“Does the Brotherhood often have deaths?” Bruce asked. The tone of the blonde girl seemed flat, as if she had expected it.

“This is a regular occurrence every year.” The blonde girl curled her lip. “During last year’s orientation, they played so hard that two people died. The year before that, someone became paralyzed, and the year before that, someone froze to death after getting drunk. I’ve even heard of someone jumping into the lake naked before.”

Bruce was stunned. Is this really Chicago and not Gotham? Even Gotham University isn’t this outrageous. Before Shiller came, it was considered a relatively pure land in Gotham, the Mob didn’t like entering the campus, they would at most sell some contraband outside. The campus could be said to have the lowest crime rate in the whole city.

But at the University of Chicago, does no one deal with these annual deaths? And aren’t all the members of the DKE Brotherhood prominent figures? With so many deaths, how much money does the board have to pay out?

Stark gave Bruce a look, pushed up his glasses, and then asked, “What year are you? Are you in a sisterhood?”

“I am.” The blonde girl stuck one hand into the back pocket of her jeans, extended the other, and shook hands with Stark, then said, “Just call me Jennifer. This is my friend Linda. I’m in the ECO Sisterhood, and I’m also a member of the cheerleading squad.”

Both stood and shook hands with them. When they saw Bruce’s face standing behind Stark, the two girls opened their eyes wide in shock, looking at each other, and then back at Bruce in unison.

“Uh, actually, I’m just…” The red-haired Linda seemed to want to explain, but to avoid awkwardness, she joked, “I swear, if you saw that cop, you’d also be smitten by his hotness.”

Bruce just smiled. The expression of the blonde girl, Jennifer, was much more serious. She scrutinized Bruce up and down and then said, “Alan said there’s a good-looking newcomer this year, is it you?”

Bruce gave an appropriate look of confusion. Jennifer stepped forward, looked into Bruce’s eyes and said, “Don’t go to tonight’s orientation, no matter how they try to persuade you, you better stay in your dormitory, or you’ll lose your life.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. Linda quickly pulled her companion. Just then, their food order was ready, and Linda turned to the shop owner and said, “Pack it for us, we’ll eat in class.”

Jennifer frowned, as if she wanted to say something more, but Linda already grabbed the food and hurriedly pulled her companion away. Before leaving, Jennifer turned back to Bruce and said, “Remember my words, don’t go tonight!”

Bruce watched the two girls leave, pondering silently. Meanwhile, their stir-fried greens were served. Stark said, “I’ve long said that it’s not peaceful inside the Brotherhood. The only difference between these groups and terrorist organizations is that most terrorists don’t have this much money and power.”

“I’m just a bit curious. With such a big commotion, does the school and other wealthy parents just ignore it?”

“It’s not that simple,” Stark shook his head. “The benefits the Brotherhood brings to the school are obvious, so they prefer to keep things hushed up. As for wealthy parents, in the eyes of true top-tier elites, they are just upstarts. Moreover, they have many children, losing one or two doesn’t matter.”

Bruce thought of Dali. Dali’s family must be well-off, but he likely wasn’t the favored one, perhaps even an outsider. In America, there’s a term for marginal people in wealthy families, “trust fund babies,” meaning apart from the family trust allowance, they can’t get much money.

Wealthy families have family trusts, which provide regular allowances, and for large expenses, one can apply. Generally, those with powerful parents don’t rely on trust funds since casually getting shares from a subsidiary or owning rental buildings far exceed the trust money.

Only those who have benefited from others but lack abilities or assets, the marginal figures, need the trust allowance. While they may appear affluent among ordinary people, in elite circles, they are not.

Dali was such a person. He had fine clothes, expensive watches, maybe a few nice cars, perhaps even a decent apartment in downtown Chicago, but that was all. If he were an heir, he wouldn’t personally come to the dorm to find Bruce, there would be others running errands for him.

Dali died; his family might hold the school accountable, but their purpose isn’t to really take down the school, rather to trade his death for profits. Trading an outsider in the family for some concessions in business from the school board or other alumni is a major win.

This is how American society is; everything can be bought with money. Not just people’s time and labor; bodies, souls, birth, and death, can all be converted into golden tickets for exchanges, and no one sees a problem with this.

As expected, by the afternoon, the school showed no reaction. The Brotherhood’s entrance was already being decorated for the orientation party, as if Dali’s death never occurred, and everyone eagerly awaited the new sacrifices.

Bruce wasn’t in a good mood; he realized he was finding it hard to accept this societal atmosphere. Though he wasn’t part of the millennial generation, Gotham’s transformation taught him that this situation could change if only someone was willing to stand up. Arrogance was right; he always wanted too much, expected too much.

With this in mind, Bruce stood before the mirror, readjusting his suit. The concern and disappointment made him a little irritable, and he silently chanted, today best that no one crosses me. Shiller is a profession, and I could take the role.