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Chapter 28: In the name of the Penguin, you are under arrest.
A hawk soars through the sky, its sharp eyes fixated on the terrified eyes of a skinny man on the ground.
The Scarecrow fears exposing his true identity, throwing himself onto the WildVine, ignoring the thorns tearing at his flesh, trying to reclaim his mask.
"That's enough."
Quinn reverts his transformation, not interested in tormenting this pitiful yet despicable guy. If the Scarecrow had any strength left, he would kill him like he shot the crows. But now, he poses no threat, and Quinn doesn't want to end up on the defendant's seat, especially with a former district attorney among Gotham's active villains.
"According to the force de-escalation policy, I won't resort to violence against you. Surrender, Jonathan Crane."
Quinn addresses Jonathan by his name instead of calling him the Scarecrow, instantly breaking his resistance. Jonathan cowers, allowing Quinn to remove the drugs and syringe from him.
"You should be grateful this is a bank." Quinn glances at the surveillance.
Two police cars arrive just in time. Quinn hands Jonathan over to his colleagues.
"All hostages are safe, and among the downed criminals, there are still some alive. Stay alert. My car is two blocks away, containing five other criminals, whom I'll deliver to you."
Without further pleasantries, Quinn entrusts the follow-up to his colleagues and rushes to the next crime scene. Today, Gotham's police are busy.
A hawk's cry pierces the sky as Quinn looks up, seeing a dark figure vanish into the haze.
The Penguin stands at the top level of the Iceberg Lounge, which is unusually quiet today. Nobody is in the mood for revelry before an impending earthquake.
"Darn it, all Wayne's fault, losing a day's income for no reason."
Seeing the dark figure approaching, the Penguin blows a smoke ring, extinguishes his cigar, and sprays perfume on himself since his pet dislikes the smell of smoke.
The bald eagle lands before the Penguin, flapping its wings with a "hoo-hoo" sound, a sound reserved only for those close to it.
"Good boy, have you had enough? Are you leaving too?"
"Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo."
The bald eagle nods, hydrates a little, then takes flight again, heading inland.
The Penguin watches his pet... no, his companion depart. The bald eagle isn't the first to leave, and it won't be the last.
Animals and birds always sense disasters before humans. If not for the Penguin's command, the bald eagle would have left Gotham three days ago.
The Penguin can easily tame any bird, particularly penguins. He despises bats, creatures that don't belong to the avian family yet can fly. He uses these trained birds to collect and relay information, monitoring all of Gotham and even the whole United States.
The bald eagle was sent to keep an eye on the Scarecrow, and its return indicates the Scarecrow has been caught. The person who caught him, the Penguin can guess without much effort.
"My out-of-town little partner dealt with the Scarecrow easily. Ha, not that it's anything noteworthy."
The Penguin looks down on the Scarecrow, considering Jonathan Crane a weak fool who doesn't deserve comparison. Because he was bullied and harassed, he chose to wear a mask and resist. Without that Scarecrow mask, he wouldn't even face the girl who rejected him.
Looking at his criminal record, the Scarecrow is more than just the inventor of fear gas; he is a psychologically disturbed lunatic, and such lunatics act without any profit-driven motives. The rational Penguin detests lunatics.
"Some say Gotham belongs to the Bat, some say it belongs to the Joker, and some told me it belongs to him."
"That's in the past. Gotham is now ownerless, and I'm certain. Gotham's future belongs to the Penguin."
The Penguin taps the floor with his umbrella, summoning his voluptuous secretary.
"Wake up the lazy guys downstairs and get them moving."
The Penguin, moving with a short, round body resembling a penguin, was initially mocked by his family, just like the Scarecrow. However, he redefined that mockery entirely.
"Wayne's kid did a decent job with the grand opening, and now..."
The Penguin opens the French window, unfolds his umbrella, and leaps down.
"Let the Cobblepot family take over!"
As the Penguin's command spreads, not only the Penguin's gang but also all of Gotham's underworld becomes active. They take out the firearms bought cheaply from the Penguin and flood the streets. Gotham's police can't contain them.
But these gangs don't aim their guns at the police; they shoot at the rioting mob.
They systematically surround and subdue the novice criminals, not sparing their bullets and intentionally leaving some alive.
"In the name of the Penguin, you are under arrest."
In the eyes of the frantic and bewildered criminals, they are bound and hauled to Gotham Police Department. Commissioner Gordon can't hide his surprise when he sees dozens of cars parked at the station. He thought someone was about to attack the GCPD, so he hurriedly retrieved his secret stash – not just one tank, but several.
The officers are stunned, recognizing those steel beasts as the tanks seized from Bane after an incident with Batman. And Commissioner Gordon condoned it?
Oh, what a wise decision.
However, when Commissioner Gordon is on high alert, what he gets are dozens of criminals, not an attack.
The leader of the Penguin's gang hands a letter to Commissioner Gordon.
"To the stuffy yet resolute Gordon:
Do you like the gift I've given you? Don't get too excited; this is just the beginning. The Cobblepot family will show Gotham the hidden plumage it has kept for so long. This should have been your shelter, but now it belongs to your little successor.
Tell him, 'Let the riffraff go to Cobblepot and find my teacher.'"
Signature: Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot.
Indian Hill, Falcone doesn't watch the fight between Batman and the assassins on the surveillance. Instead, he stares fixedly at the largest screen, showing real-time footage of important streets in Gotham, with penguins appearing on nearly every screen.
"Oswald, you haven't disappointed me." His eyes are bloodshot, and a tear falls to his lips, tears of excitement.
"Although you're a little below my expectations, in this era of super-powered freaks, I admit you are qualified."
Like a mentor seeing his student's talent, Falcone gives his assessment, and he has the right to do so.
"But unfortunately..." He wipes away the dried tear, "it's already too late."
In the past, Falcone ruled all of Gotham's underground forces. He was the true uncrowned king, but precisely because of this, he couldn't change Gotham. He believed that his criminal empire was the root cause of Gotham's corruption, so to seek change, he had to destroy it himself.
Falcone gave the young Penguin a chance, an opportunity to revive the family, but the price was that the Penguin had to promise him to reorganize Gotham's underworld, ascending the ranks of both sides, the black and the white, together with Gordon, who was also being considered. Falcone believed that this dual approach would cure Gotham's ills.
However, over a decade passed, and when Falcone returned to Gotham, he found it even more corrupt. The Joker, Two-Face, various lunatics, and fools ran rampant, and the Penguin remained the same.
Falcone grew disappointed, thinking Gotham was beyond saving. Destroying underground Gotham wasn't enough; he wanted to dismantle its foundation and start over.
He abandoned the Penguin and chose the black mask.
Yet, the Penguin remained loyal to his promise to Falcone. Using his constructed intelligence network, he established connections with Gotham's and even America's crime organizations. While they were not under the Penguin's direct control, it didn't matter, for the Penguin had money.
Falcone thought disrupting an arms deal would defeat him.
How naive.
The old man couldn't keep up with the times, just like Quinn had realized in Chapter 2, "Large-scale arms smuggling is quite common in Gotham."
The Penguin controlled Gotham's arms and intelligence markets, silently accumulating power and waiting for Gordon to seek cooperation. Ultimately, it was Quinn who came to him.
"This is the situation, Quinn. Though I don't want to admit it, Cobblepot knows Gotham's darkness better than the police. He's done... better than us. The streets are regaining order now, and in the name of the police, you can go after the mastermind. Remember, Gotham Police will always have your back!"
Quinn watches as the crime locations on the Bat-Communicator go dark one by one, relieved.
"Penguin placed his bet on me. He staked his treasure on me. Ah, my shoulders feel a bit sore; I need to stretch."
A familiar car stops in front of Quinn, and the Nightwing and Robin point to the backseat.
"Want to catch the last bus, officer?"
"Can't ask for more, vigilantes."
...
Indian Hill, Wayne Chemicals' factory stands above it, but its legal owner can only sneak in through the walls.
Evading surveillance, Batman arrives at an underground area not on the blueprints. Roughly estimating, at least half of Indian Hill has been hollowed out.
Batman descends using his grappling gun.
"If Quinn didn't lie, the legendary Pokémon should possess god-like power and a massive size like in myths. It must be down there."
As if echoing his speculation, the ground suddenly starts shaking, and the fixed grapple shows signs of loosening. Batman has to break the glass and enter the building.
Inside, dozens of assassins dressed in black await him.
Batman's stealth level is undoubtedly Max, but unfortunately, his stealth skills can't match these people before him.
"Members of the Assassin's League, is Ra's al Ghul involved too?" Batman asks calmly with a hoarse voice.
Even after being ambushed, Batman remains composed. Prepared to deal with visitors from another universe, he handles these Assassin's League killers effortlessly.
Knives, guns, sticks, and clubs took turns, but Batman fought back empty-handed. In the eyes of true masters, the gap between empty-handed combat and armed combat can be bridged.
Batman threw a smoke bomb, and within the smoke mixed with lead dust, he took down the assassins one by one.
"I knew opponents of this level relying on numbers wouldn't be able to handle you, Bruce."
Batman turned around, looking gravely at the man who suddenly appeared behind him.
"Ra's al Ghul, I knew you were there when the Assassin's League showed up. What do you want this time? Damian is already a qualified Robin. What more do you want?"
"I want you, you! Batman!"
Ra's al Ghul stood with his hands behind his back, never hiding his admiration for Batman. He had invited Batman to join the Assassin's League several times, but Batman always refused.
"At this critical juncture, at this special position, I'm making my final invitation to you," Ra's al Ghul emphasized the last two words, "Batman, join the Assassin's League, and my position will be yours."
Batman nodded slightly, as if seriously considering it, "If I become the leader of the Assassin's League, what about you?"
"Pretending to hesitate but actually trying to gather information through me. Your intense focus on the target shows you're a natural assassin, Batman."
Having lived for seven centuries, Ra's al Ghul couldn't be fooled by Batman. He took out two Emei daggers.
"You're too late, Batman. Gotham is about to cease to exist. If you still care about Damian, hand him over to me."
Batman unsheathed the blades on his arm armor.
"Alfred told me that making decisions for a child without their consent is wrong. You should ask him what he wants. I think he would say—"
"No!"
Damian grabbed Quinn's collar, "I don't want that! Batman would send me to boarding school!"
"Boarding school? Are you Batman's son?" Quinn teasingly asked.
"Uh..." Damian looked away.
Nightwing quickly helped out, "No, the boarding school he mentioned is an alias. It's actually the Teen Titans—a superhero team I established."
Seeing Nightwing's smug appearance, Damian scornfully turned his head. Who cares about playing house with that bunch of kids? He wants to become Batman's man.
"That's not bad. It's a good opportunity for further education. You'll gain more experiences outside."
"I don't want to play house in Nightwing's daycare."
"Robin, show some respect. It's not playing house; they are immature heroes—just like you."
The three boys argued, and the only woman on the channel couldn't stand it.
"Shut up, all of you! Batman gave me control now, so I'm in charge. If I don't agree, none of you will go!"
Barbara was annoyed with this group of men arguing on the channel. Was her Oracle status non-existent?
With her shout, the channel quieted down, and the three boys realized they no longer had the decision-making power.
"Cough, beautiful Oracle," Nightwing changed to a sweet voice, "Can I trouble your delicate fingers to help me just this once? If you press a button, I promise to make the stars twinkle for you tonight."
Quinn and Damian shuddered simultaneously, feeling unwell all over.
Barbara sneered, "You remind me, Nightwing. I found a folder in the Batcomputer that Batman intentionally marked as off-limits to me. However, this folder is within my access rights.
Care to guess what's inside?"
Upon hearing this, Dick immediately broke into a cold sweat, tightly closing his mouth. He no longer dared to say a word, determined to pretend to be dead.
"Quinn's proposal comes with significant risks, but I think it's perfect for you to execute."
Barbara opened another communication channel.
"Butler, Oracle requests Batwing access, targeting 'Nightwing'."
Alfred held the fort at the Batcave and had been adjusting refuge procedures.
"Request approved, Master Nightwing. Please receive."
The Batwing landed above Quinn and the others, and Nightwing clenched his teeth, taking the driver's seat first.
"Get on, I'll be in charge of the 'Batfall' plan this time!"
"Okay!" ×2
Someone else would shoulder the blame, so Damian was no longer afraid. He seemed more excited than anyone else.
"Charge!"
"Wait for me, I haven't gotten on... the machine yet!"
Three minutes later, a bat broke through the roof of the Indian Hill factory, head down, "falling" with great force toward the underground!
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