The Penguin spent nearly ten minutes standing guard at the hospital entrance before he understood one thing—if Bruce Wayne died, he would become a people's revolutionary.
Cobblepot had never been a coward. He had not been afraid when he was ostracized by the Cobblepot family, when gang enforcers forced him to kill his first person, when he became an umbrella boy and stole from mob bosses, or when he fought other mob bosses to the death.
But this time, he was truly afraid.
Cobblepot had grown up during the Cold War. Back then, information blockades were not as severe as they were now. Both sides even displayed the other's strength to their own people, so people of that era found it easier to see the true nature of the world's various systems.
Cobblepot had never longed for the system of that powerful Red country, because he knew it was too idealistic and too far removed from him. But that did not mean he thought the system of the Cold War's victor was anywhere near perfect.
Having clawed his way up from the bottom, Cobblepot understood even more clearly that class was the foundation of the United States. That was why they had entered a Cold War with the red giant bear—the ultimate goal of the other side was to eliminate class.
Nothing could take priority over class. This was the upper class of America's absolute bottom line. Above that line, you could use any means necessary to obtain what you wanted, even leap several levels at once and complete a total class ascension.
Even if your methods were not entirely honorable, once you crossed the class divide, there would be ample room for you to drape yourself in a splendid outer layer. After all, there was an uncrossable chasm between