Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics

Gordon was standing in the office, handing over the last document to Harvey Block. The plump new Chief of the Gotham Police Department lowered the brim of his hat and said, "I never thought the day would come when I'd call my old buddy 'Mayor'."

Gordon patted his arm, walked out with him, and said, "I never expected my approval rating to be so high either. Perhaps it's because my work in the Lower City area has indeed been quite satisfactory; nothing makes me happier than the recognition of the citizens."

"You've got what you wished for." Brock said, "But being a mayor is not the same as being a chief, you'll have to deal with a lot of people. But I hope you remember, I will always stand by your side."

"You don't need to stand by anyone's side, Harvey. Just stand on the side of justice."

Gordon went home. Barbara was cleaning. After the father and daughter finished tidying up the house and dinner, as usual, they took a walk along the street.

But this time, they walked a bit farther, along the edge of the community park all the way to the entrance of the Gotham Bridge.

There is a pedestrian path on the Gotham Bridge, where many people jog in the morning, run at night, or walk their dogs.

Standing on the bridge at dusk, one could see the sunset of Gotham slowly sinking into the water. Barbara's hands were resting on the railing as she looked into the distance, watching the construction equipment swinging back and forth, as if trying to scoop up the sun about to sink into the horizon.

"You're facing a big trouble as soon as you take office," Barbara sighed, "The demolition work at the Gotham Reservoir is not that easy, especially after finding the ruins of Gotham Village underwater. The citizens disagree with meddling there; don't be too forceful."

Gordon smiled and said, "I didn't expect you to say that. I thought you would resolutely stop me."

Barbara looked hesitant, pursed her lips, and said, "On the day you were accused of murder, I accessed the surveillance cameras Batman had installed near the Gotham Bridge. I…I saw it."

"What did you see?"

"You indeed drove that car into a corner, making them fall off the bridge, but then you jumped down too." Barbara gripped the railing tightly, "Do you know how high this bridge is? If something hadn't fallen and disrupted the water's surface tension, you would have definitely died."

"Why bring this up all of a sudden?"

"I just want to know what you were thinking," Barbara turned her head back and said, "If you wanted to kill, you should have left without looking back. If you didn't want to, then you shouldn't have done it in the first place."

"Do you wish I did that?"

"I know it's wrong, you always taught me that. But I also know that sometimes, the moral and legal rights and wrongs are not the only perspectives to trace back to the root of an issue. I just think it's very dangerous."

Gordon looked up, gazing at Gotham's dazzling sunset, his rough fingers touching the bridge's railing. He said, "I know how dangerous a job Batgirl is. If I were just a father, I would definitely want to stop you."

"When I saw the car slowly sinking, I realized that my understanding of danger was superficial because the most dangerous thing you face isn't gunfire and bullets, but the constant questioning of your own conscience."

"When you have the capability to kill, you must control yourself every moment you lose control of your emotions, making choices that don't let you or others down. This requires extremely strong self-discipline and responsibility."

"That moment I stood on the edge of the bridge, I realized how difficult it is to achieve that. But you did it. If I weren't your family, I would really admire your character."

"So why does a closer familial relationship prevent me from seeing this, instead narrowly interpreting it all as you recklessly putting yourself in danger rather than rationally analyzing that you have the capacity to handle it all and emotionally believing proudly that you can handle it?"

Barbara understood something. Indeed, if they weren't father and daughter, they would certainly admire each other's actions— the young superhero firmly fighting crime, the Chief of the Gotham Police Department unwaveringly standing by his principles. To achieve these, the character required would be admired by anyone who heard of their deeds.

Isn't it also exploiting the familial relationship to bind each other, if they, as family members, instead perceive each other's great deeds as not considering others' feelings and risking themselves?

Aren't they then becoming the very type of feudal control freaks they themselves detest?

Barbara felt some knots in her heart unraveling. But involuntarily, she thought of Batman, recalling the deep sadness she had seen Batman express on some deep nights.

Under the same sunset, two tall and slender figures stood on the rooftop of the Wayne Building. Nightwing removed his mask, exhaling a breath of cool air he had inhaled while speeding on his motorcycle.

"You lost again." Jason's foot was on the edge of the building, and he said, "Batman's taste in choosing assistants isn't that great."

"Isn't that including yourself?"

"I'm mainly criticizing myself, or is it you?" Jason snorted coldly.

"What exactly did you give him for Christmas? Why won't you just tell me? Are you worried I'll copy you?"

"Don't flatter yourself, newcomer." Jason retorted mercilessly, "Mind your own damn business."

Nightwing rolled his eyes, "I've never seen someone so self-absorbed and egotistical."

Jason ignored him and sat down on the edge of the rooftop. He also removed his mask, fiddling with the gun in his hands.

"You know what Joker and Batman said on Christmas Eve night?" Nightwing asked, looking at the sunset on the horizon.

"Is it about me?"

"How did you know?"

"If it wasn't about me, you wouldn't have brought it up suddenly. Your way of starting the conversation is too abrupt."

Nightwing also sat down at the edge of the rooftop and said, "Joker told Batman that you betrayed him."

"It's not even the same Joker, you believe what he says?"

"Of course not. But Batman looked really sad."

"He didn't believe it either. He was upset about something else." Jason took a deep breath and said, "Before he went out, I had a fight with him. I guess he didn't really listen to what Joker said."

"You had a fight with him again? What did you say?"

"'Don't fucking trap me in your memories.' Just that."

"Sss..." Nightwing took a meaningful breath.

"But what Joker said wasn't wrong either." Jason curled up one of his legs, held his knees, and said, "During those years in Brood Haven, I was also reflecting on my actions. Maybe it was me who first trapped Batman in my memories."

Nightwing turned his head to look at him.

"He saved me, so I assumed he was a great hero, and every action should meet heroic standards, never failing. So when I realized that he wasn't as strong as I thought, I hated him for deceiving me."

"But the truth is, if we didn't know each other, I, as a poor boy from Gotham slum, finding out that a wealthy man like Bruce Wayne personally came here to fight crime, no matter if he was being used or if he was sincere, I might still admire him."

"Especially in this city, there are plenty of undisguised villains. Even if he came for amusement and fought a few villains, I might still see him as my idol."

"So why couldn't I recognize him so straightforwardly when I was his assistant?"

"What do you think is the reason?" Nightwing asked.

"I thought about it for a long time and then realized that intimacy means expectations. The greater the expectations, the greater the disappointment. Many misunderstandings in close relationships come from trying to manipulate the other person with one's own preconceptions."

"And the truth is, no one has to live up to someone else's expectations. Just like Batman didn't have an obligation to live up to the perfect hero I saw in my mind, and I wasn't obligated to live up to his view of me as a mentally traumatized, pitiful stray dog."

"Did you think of all this in Brood Haven?"

"What about you?"

"I also had a lot of unrealistic expectations for Batman. For example, I thought he should've accepted Joker from the moment he changed, and I also fought with Batman over this," Nightwing shook his head, "But the main reason he wasn't as upset with me as he was with you is probably because he didn't have such high expectations of me. And that's all thanks to you. What happened to you made him think that it was enough for me just to be alive; he couldn't expect more."

Jason suddenly laughed. It was a smile that, even under the golden sunset, still sparkled brilliantly, filled with youthful pride and exuberance, merry and proud like a swan.

"It turned out you really weren't as strong as me." Jason pointed at the motorcycle downstairs, then said, "Back in the day, I used it to help him catch many criminals who tried to flee. The street racers back then were much stronger than those today."

Speaking of street racers, Nightwing got excited. He enthusiastically said, "That Bruce from another cosmos has really good driving skills. When I and the Pale Knight were chasing him, neither of us caught up with him. Why don't you give it a try?"

"Look at your clueless face, that's Bruce Wayne, a pampered rich young master, at most dabbling with sports cars. How could he compare with a slum racer's city skills on the track?"

"Don't believe it? Just try it. It will definitely shock you!"

The roar of the engine accompanied the last breeze before the sunset entered through the window. Clark, who was organizing his thoughts, frowned and gestured his assistant to close the window.

As soon as 8:00 struck, there was a knock at the door. Clark put down his notebook for recording issues, adjusted his tie, walked to the door, and shook hands with the figure appearing outside.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Rose. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Kent. You've been quite famous recently; many of my colleagues from the Urban Planning Department have been asking for your autograph."

Clark smiled, walked over to take off the lens cap of the camera. Rose removed her glasses, and they sat down facing each other by the window, with the freshly night sky of the old city behind them.

"I'm delighted to have invited Miss Rose, the head of the Gotham Urban Planning Department, here today. I can't wait to share her legendary story with you all, from a slum girl to a political figure of Gotham State..."

Shiller, holding the remote, turned up the television volume. On the other side of the sofa, a man in noble attire, whose facial features resembled Paul's, appeared beside a helpless-looking Brad.