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Chapter 633: Schiller's Leisurely Vacation (Part 1)
🕑 Added 2023-10-07 09:06:11 +0000 UTCIn DC World With Marvel Chat Group : Table of Content/Chapter List
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Brooklyn, a small city not far from Gotham on the East Coast, shares the coastline with its larger neighbor but boasts a completely different climate. It could have thrived as a tourist destination with its perpetual sunshine, ranking among the top cities for sunlight duration and intensity on the East Coast. However, its narrow land area, numerous hills and mountains in the vicinity, limited coastline, and inadequate city amenities failed to meet the demands of a substantial influx of tourists.
If it were closer to Metropolis, it might have flourished earlier. If the drive to Metropolis took less than half an hour, tourists could easily access Metropolis for accommodation and dining needs. However, no tourist dared to venture deep into Gotham for lodging. Tourists who came to Coastal City were seeking sunny beaches, and Gotham's gloomy, rainy weather would spoil their day. As a result, Brooklyn's development remained lukewarm.
But ever since Mayor Lorraine of Gotham City's recent speech, some improvements had begun to alter people's perceptions of Gotham. The high crime rate and chaos here were not only due to government inaction. Many curious backpackers wanted to observe this unique city, and Brooklyn became their landing point.
Additionally, the growth of Gotham's logistics industry led to a surge in employment opportunities. Many individuals hoping to find work and test their luck chose Brooklyn as their outpost. Being only a 20-minute drive from Gotham, if life in Gotham didn't satisfy them, they could easily turn around.
After all, the cost of living and rent in Gotham were no joke. While Gotham residents might be considered struggling within the city's cycle, compared to the broader world, they were at least comfortably well-off.
To put it in perspective, the average gang member who worked as a bouncer at Gotham nightclubs was among the lower-income groups within Gotham. But when they came to Brooklyn, they represented a comfortable life.
Some might wonder, why did they choose to live in Brooklyn? Why engage in gang-related activities in Gotham?
The answer lay in the fact that not only were they gang members themselves, but their fathers, mothers, grandfathers, and grandmothers were all part of the gang. Their entire network of relationships was intertwined within this system, making it difficult for them to break away. If the mob boss disagreed, they couldn't escape. Otherwise, the shark's next meal would be them.
Furthermore, Gotham's gang members earned good money not because they possessed crucial skills or had a strong educational background. Gang enforcers didn't read books or have any specialized skills. Once they left the Gotham system, they couldn't find a job with such high wages anywhere else.
This was a problem encountered by residents of high-income, high-cost areas when migrating to low-income, low-cost regions. They wanted high wages but low living costs. However, low-cost areas often lacked high wages and had insufficient amenities. So, they preferred enduring high living costs over moving to low-cost areas.
This was also why Brooklyn, as Gotham's neighboring city, had surprisingly good security.
In plain terms, Gotham residents simply didn't find Brooklyn appealing. After working hard here for a month, they might not earn as much as a week's work for a Gotham gang, even though Brooklyn had lower prices. Some items were still cheaper in Gotham, so why not just live there? Locals knew their way around, and it was safer.
Many backpackers who came to Brooklyn described it as the closest thing to heaven in hell. Whether it was the climate, scenery, or culture, Brooklyn was in no way inferior to other tourist cities on the East Coast.
Unlike the bustling and prosperous metropolises like Gotham, Brooklyn was a small town with a slower pace of life. Everyone here was laid-back, thanks in part to the bountiful catches from the East Coast waters.
The city's industrial structure primarily revolved around fishing piers, seafood processing, export, and the logistics industry. There were three piers in the small city, with one being relatively large, built recently, and the other two dating back to the colonial era, making them quite old.
"Sir, you might not have heard of this pier; it broke about three or four years ago. The mayor said there was no need to repair it, so it was converted into a fishing pier," said a young boy wearing overalls and a fisherman's hat as he ran onto the wooden platform of the pier, pointing ahead to Schiller.
"Do you see those small boats over there? Those are experience boats specifically for tourists. Visitors can try shallow-water fishing on them, and the Fishermen on board will teach them the basics of shallow-water fishing. You can use fishing rods or try your hand at using a fishing net."
"For just five dollars, you can take home the fattest fish you catch. If you're willing to give me an extra fifty cents, I can take you to the nearby restaurant, where the owner makes fantastic fish soup and fish stew."
"Five dollars seems a bit expensive for me, and I'm not particularly fond of fish. But if it's cheaper, I wouldn't mind giving it a try," Schiller said, stepping onto the wooden platform of the pier and gazing at the numerous fishing boats. He had to admit it was quite unique.
Generally, the cost of sea fishing was quite high, and it was something only the affluent could afford, not the average family on vacation.
Brooklyn's tourist project seemed somewhat like a modest, budget version. The fishing boats were ordinary wooden vessels with engines, and the fishermen onboard were just locals who had spent their whole lives fishing. They used rather basic fishing nets, some of which were quite worn and old.
However, what was evident was that almost every fishing boat was carrying tourists, and they were having a great time. Even though these fishing boats couldn't be called high-speed or highly efficient for catching fish, and the catch depended largely on luck, most tourists, especially families, were thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Schiller was starting to admire the wisdom of Brooklyn's mayor. In this era, most of the tourism industry was tailored for the wealthy, and many tourist cities hadn't shifted their focus to offer more accessible projects.
In most coastal tourist cities, apart from free access to the beaches, all sea-related activities, such as deep-sea fishing and diving, came with hefty fees.
"All right, sir, how about three dollars?"
"I can go as high as two dollars and fifty cents, and I'll give you an extra fifty cents as a tip, consider it a treat," Schiller smiled, patting the shoulder of the young tour guide boy. He said, "Go find me a boat."
The young boy cheered and ran down the pier to the beach. In no time, he returned with a boat and proudly said, "Sir, I bet nobody else could find a boat as perfect for you as this one!"
"You mentioned earlier that you're a university professor," he continued, "so you should be more comfortable with younger people. However, most of the local fishermen here are not that young. Sometimes, I get headaches from their stubbornness. I was afraid you might not get along with them, so I found the only slightly younger fisherman here..."
"Come over, Viking. This is Professor Rodriguez, my new customer. He's a very generous university professor who wants to experience your boat and catch a good fish. I'll treat you to a meal later."
Schiller turned to see the man the boy had called, and he was struck by the sight. The man had a muscular, sculpted physique, shirtless on top and wearing shorts on the bottom. His hair was golden, with long sideburns connecting to a beard at his jawline, though his chin remained clean-shaven, giving him a wild and fierce appearance.
He assessed Schiller with his eagle-like eyes, then shifted slightly to make space for him, gesturing to his boat with a finger and saying, "Come aboard."
Schiller looked down and realized he was still standing on the beach, while the fishing boat floated in the sea, at least three meters away. He opened his mouth and asked, "How do I get on?"
The tour guide boy slapped his forehead in frustration and shouted at the man, "You forgot again?! Where's the boarding ladder? Old Vireland told you about it. Don't you remember the rules for treating tourists?"
The man on the boat seemed to have just remembered and took down a wooden board from the boat. After anchoring the boat, he lowered the board into the water. Schiller then walked up the board.
Schiller turned to wave goodbye to the tour guide boy as he felt the boat beneath his feet start to sway. The golden-haired man appeared somewhat silent, and Schiller, now curious, walked to the side of the boat. Only then did the man speak in a low, buzzing voice, "Don't keep staring at the sea; it'll make you seasick."
Schiller obediently shifted his gaze away from the sea and asked, "I heard my tour guide call you Viking. Is that your nickname?"
"Yes, but I'm not much of a fan. I'm not a pirate," Viking said as he approached the fishing gear. "Are you planning to use a fishing rod or a fishing net?"
"Let's start with fishing rods," Schiller said. "Could you find a good fishing spot for me?"
"It might not be the best time now; there are a lot of people, and the good spots are likely taken. But I know a few decent ones..." Viking began sorting out the fishing line while speaking.
"Oh, I see. If I have a good catch today, I'd be happy to give you an extra half of the tip," Schiller replied, squatting down and looking at the fishing rods of varying lengths.
"No, that's not what I meant," Viking said, still working on the fishing line. "I just wanted to say that those fishing spots can be tricky. You might need some fishing skills."
Viking began untangling the fishing line, and Schiller stood up, looking out at the sea. As Viking had mentioned, almost every spot on the sea seemed to be occupied by fishing boats, except the direction in which Viking was heading, which was devoid of any boats.
"My fishing skills aren't great, but they're not rotten either. Let's give it a try. If we don't catch anything, so be it. I don't particularly love fish anyway," Schiller shrugged, appearing easygoing. This surprised Viking, who looked up and asked, "You're a university professor? Where do you teach?"
"Gotham University."
The fishing line in Viking's hands turned into a tangled mess.
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Next Chapter>>Chapter 634: Schiller's Leisure Vacation (Part 2)
