People who have never experienced autumn will never understand. If spring is a romantic journey, then autumn is a long affliction, the time God leaves for people to be melancholy, sorrowful, and lonely. Souls descend with the whole world, becoming as dry as fallen leaves, gradually wilting and shattering, blown up by the cold wind, like the flashing noise in an old film played with celluloid.
Autumn in the big city is wetter and colder. Without soil and red brick walls, mist always condenses on the glass of revolving doors, reflecting the water stains on the asphalt road. Mud-spattered leather shoes, knitted scarves piled around the neck, today's handwritten menu, the buzzing sound of the coffee machine grinding beans—Green Street's autumn mornings always start with these things.
"Hello, two espressos, two lattes with no sugar, one latte with double milk and double sugar, and one flat white. You can pack them all together, thank you."
The coffee shop employee turned around and saw a young man in a black trench coat, with a light blue shirt inside that was well-ironed, and a work badge hanging around his neck.
"Oh, new here." While selecting coffee beans, he smiled and said, "Which office are you from?"
The other person seemed a bit awkward and nervous. He said, "Uh, the least popular one."
"You don't look it, you're actually a Federation Shield employee." The coffee shop employee's tone was playful, looking back at the man, saying, "I thought they only hired freaks."
"No, I'm not from the Federation Shield; I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation." The other person looked even more awkward and said, "Behavioral Analysis Unit, BAU, have you heard of it?"
"FBI?" The other person was more surprised and said, "I heard you were setting up an office here, but I didn't expect it to be on Green Street. So, analyzing the freaks next door, huh?"
"The Federation Shield isn't right next door to us." He shook his head and said, "In fact, we're at one end of the street, and they're at the other. Our work content is different..."
"Alright, don't be so nervous, boy. Being a cop in Gotham isn't easy, but it's easier than it used to be. Which university did you graduate from?"
"Gotham University," he replied. "In fact, I just graduated not too long ago. If it weren't for the FBI moving the Behavioral Analysis Unit's office to Gotham, I wouldn't be working this early. I was still thinking of going to grad school."
The coffee shop employee wiped his hands with a cloth, and then said, "Don't think like that. Job opportunities are hard to come by, especially in such a decent office position. Looks like you're doing pretty well, right?"
"Why do you say that?"
"Elsewhere, the least popular people might be serving tea and running errands. But in Gotham, if you're sent out to buy coffee across the street, it shows they really trust you. After all, the whole city is a 'high-risk area'."
The young man also laughed. He rubbed his nose and said, "Yes, before I left, they repeatedly told me to be careful. It's just the first day after moving, and we don't want any trouble."
"Don't worry too much. There are no more mobs now, and you don't have to pay for someone else's coffee. Here, your coffee, a total of nine US Dollars."
"Uh..."
"What's wrong? Too expensive? This is top-quality coffee beans. The nearby shop might be cheaper, but they use stale beans, and their machines are so old they creak. You have to trust my Italian blood."
"No. To be honest, have you ever been to Los Angeles? I worked there before."
"I get it, you think it's too cheap, right? I have a nephew working in Los Angeles, and I heard one espresso there costs three US Dollars. I wonder what kind of rich people they all are. By the way, my bagels and sandwiches are also good. Want some? Or do you prefer donuts?"
"I'll have two pretzels and three ham sandwiches, no onions and no black olives, please. Thank you."
The coffee shop employee packed everything, filling two large paper bags with the coffee shop's logo, a chubby croissant. When handing them over, he saw the job title on the badge—"FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit Special Agent Barry Allen."
Pushing through the revolving door and returning to the street, a burst of cold air hit him. Barry exhaled a breath of hot air and remembered he didn't ask the employee for a receipt, which meant he couldn't get reimbursed.
But thinking about it, today being the first day they moved, as a half-local who used to study here, offering a coffee as a gesture of goodwill seemed appropriate. Besides, it only cost a bit more than ten bucks, completely within his budget.
Walking across a street, rounding the corner, he arrived at the entrance of a new building. It used to be a company of a once-popular fashion brand, still retaining the original product display windows, but now it had become one of the Federal Bureau of Investigation's offices.
Opening the door and stepping inside, he took the elevator to the third floor, pushed open the door marked "BAU," and put the purchased items on the big table in the middle, taking off his trench coat and hanging it by the door.
"Oh, my heavens! You must be sent by God, the savior of my breakfast!" A blonde woman rushed in first. Following her were a full-figured Black woman, a bespectacled white man, and an Asian who looked familiar.
"Please, my life doesn't need to resemble a TV show more." Barry said with some exasperation, "Don't exaggerate, it's just breakfast."
"A dramatic city needs a dramatic life." They started scavenging the bags like hyenas, snatching away their desired food. Barry walked to the mirror on the other side, checked his appearance, and then also sat down at the table.
"Has the analysis of the surveillance footage from the previous child abduction case come out yet?" Barry casually asked while holding his coffee cup.
"I've already handed it over to Brainiac, he'll notify us as soon as he has any information," said the white man wearing glasses. "Did you know? We might end up being neighbors with the Federation Shield."
"The supernatural department?" The black woman raised an eyebrow, saying, "I've heard it's full of superpower users, a bunch of freaks."
Barry coughed lightly, but it didn't attract anyone's attention. They just continued their discussion among themselves.
"I knew it wasn't simple to move us from the West Coast to here; the big boss surely wants us to keep an eye on them."
"I don't want to deal with superpower users; most of them have strange temperaments and are very dangerous."
"I don't think they'll be more dangerous than this city itself. The other day I did some investigating; don't be fooled by the low crime rate here, the percentage of heinous crimes is shockingly high. Cases worthy of being included in psychology textbooks are everywhere. It's hard to imagine how high the psychological resilience of the police here must be."
"Isn't that a bit exaggerated? I actually find this place quite nice, the urban environment is great, rent is cheap, and the prices aren't high. More importantly, the climate here is better than the West Coast."
"What? It's freezing here, and you think the climate is better than Los Angeles? California has the best climate in America!"
"I prefer distinct seasons; perhaps I'll see my first snow here in my life. You know, I was born in Southern California and have never seen snow before..."
Barry listened to their discussion while sipping his coffee. Just outside their office was a massive American beech tree, its leaves completely turned yellow, with some even red. The wind blew, making the whole tree look like a burning flame.
The fire in the fireplace finally grew strong. Shiller threw in the last piece of wood, walked to the door to check the calendar, and saw that Halloween was just three days away. He went into the kitchen to take a glass bowl and placed it on the cabinet by the door. Next up was going out to buy some candy; although he wasn't sure if anyone would come for it, he still had to be prepared.
Just as he was ready to go out and had his coat on, the phone by the door suddenly rang. Picking it up, he heard the voice of Primary Universe Batman saying:
"Hello, PhD. I've arrived at Metropolis Airport and I'm about to switch to Gotham. I wanted to book a room at Wayne Hotel, but it seems they're not accepting online reservations. Can you help me find their phone number?"
"You must have accessed the wrong website," Shiller said. "We don't have Booking.com or Expedia here. The phone you bought should have Brainiac software pre-installed. Open that, then enter your requirement, and you'll be set."
"Is it the one with the green bald logo? I thought my phone had a virus, so I used some technical means to uninstall that software."
"... You managed to uninstall it? You're truly Batman," Shiller marveled. "You need to reinstall it; without it, you won't be able to book a hotel, let alone hail a cab."
"Alright, I understand. I'll redownload it. But why is the software called 'Brainiac'?"
"That's a bit complicated to explain. You should just come over first."
After hanging up the phone, Shiller sighed. He knew Batman wasn't the type to wait for explanations; he'd soon figure everything out by himself. But that didn't matter; he needed to hurry to the store to buy candy before it was all sold out.
Shiller dressed and walked to the community store. The lake in front of his door remained unchanged, while the distant forest had already donned its autumn attire. A wooden path led deep into the forest where a small park had been built. When there weren't many people during the day, Shiller would go there to sit.
Gotham's ecology had indeed improved a lot, with more water birds on the lake. Neighbors said a herd of deer had moved into the forest from the suburbs, although Shiller hadn't seen them. His gaze lingered on a squirrel on the roadside tree, its cheeks stuffed full, tail waving, watching him warily.
After walking a bit further, Shiller discovered the source of its food. It turned out that this neighbor's house had planted a chestnut tree, not only surviving well but also bearing abundant fruit, spread all over the ground, practically a self-service buffet for the wildlife. Besides squirrels, there were chipmunks and sparrows, their chirping heard from afar.
Going further forward, there was a pet park, which had just been set up. Though called a park, it was simply a lawn surrounded by a fence, but still quite empty, with few people.
What Shiller liked most about his new home was its sparsity of people, almost like living in a nature reserve. During weekdays, not a soul could be seen within miles around, incredibly tranquil.
As for why that is, it can be considered a consequence of Brainiac's policies. Originally, housing was allocated based on per capita living space. Shiller even had to host Little Shazam for a while because of it. This indeed had benefits: the wealthy couldn't occupy too much land, and the average living space for the poor increased significantly.
But over time, issues arose, such as the problem of supporting facilities. Wealthy areas had great natural environments and spacious houses. Living there felt good initially, but to maintain the environment, there were hardly any supporting facilities. You had to drive into the city to buy things, and the workplace was even farther, taking more than an hour by car, even if there was no traffic.
With the city's wealthy moving to the inner world, additional housing in better city locations became available. Naturally, people were less inclined to live far away, and after negotiating with Brainiac, they moved to more centrally located spots.
Shiller's community lay neither in the city center nor in the suburbs, but in between. The nearest commercial area had just been demolished, with no plans for subway access, and the gas station had also moved away. Some wealthier neighbors relocated to the inner world, but few were willing to move here, so the population kept dwindling.
However, Shiller was quite satisfied with the situation, thinking that perhaps after everyone moved away, he could enjoy a nature reserve all to himself.