Penguin.
A famous figure in Gotham City.
Skilled at operating on both sides of the law.
But comparatively speaking, throughout all of Gotham City, he was also one of the most normal among the many Supervillains.
At worst, he dealt drugs, smuggled goods, trafficked arms, ran casinos, ran brothels, and killed a few people now and then.
His goal was simple and clear.
I just want power and influence, to become one of those top-tier successful people!!
Brimming with the spirit of striving!!
Nothing like so many of those lunatics.
Not for money, not for fame—they simply wanted to do bad things.
In fact.
Some guys were even simpler than that. They just wanted to play games with Batman.
Pure, unadulterated madness!!
Completely impossible to fathom...
Therefore.
Penguin was bad in an ordinary, normal way.
Among all Supervillains, he could absolutely be called a paragon of conscience!!
No matter which version of Batman it was, he was an exceptionally qualified punching bag.
At present.
Inside the Iceberg Restaurant that had been forcibly moved.
Curled up in a corner, watching the scenery outside undergo shifts in time and space through the window.
After finally confirming that Orsaga and the others had not been bluffing or spouting nonsense.
Penguin's heart was filled with grief.
He did not understand.
He was merely an everyday mobster.
Fighting the Apokolips Parademons that had once invaded Gotham City was already excessive enough.
After all, what kind of mobster fought aliens?
Yet now, he actually had to go through some damn universe-level crisis!?
Was there any justice in this world??
The more he thought about it.
The more naturally despairing he became as he watched the ever-changing time and space outside...
However, he was not left in despair for long.
Soon, as the scenery outside gradually stopped