A Very Gotham-Style Accident

The response Johnny had painstakingly come up with was forcibly choked off by Oswald's declaration. Sabatino held it in so hard his eyes bulged.

Heavy breathing continued for a full dozen seconds before Sabatino spat out a mouthful of saliva and lightly shook his suit jacket, which had been punched full of holes.

"So your all-in move was just putting a few holes in my clothes?

Penguin, when you're in bed, can you only spit all over a broad's face too?"

After saying that, Sabatino finally felt a little better. Without waiting for Oswald to respond, he quickly raised a hand and mimed making a phone call.

"I didn't come to the Iceberg Lounge to talk business with a runt like you. Before I came, I already contacted Falcone!

You just stay here and guard your iceberg. I'll wait for Falcone at Minus Forty-Four Degrees.

Remember to watch the door for me!"

With that, Sabatino spat at Oswald's feet, then took off his jacket with a look of utter disgust.

Casually tossing the jacket onto the floor, Sabatino walked deeper into the Iceberg Lounge, shaking his head and sneering.

"Since I accidentally dirtied the club floor, take that jacket and use it as a rag, watchdog."

"Heh heh..."

Watching Sabatino's retreating back, Oswald smiled deeply and exhaled a long stream of cigar smoke.

Only when the smoke was about to disperse in the air did he raise his hand and speak to the men around him.

"Did you hear that? Our boss Falcone is coming. Why aren't you cleaning the club up properly?"

After saying that, Oswald turned around and limped toward his office.

Once inside, he solemnly shut the door, then grabbed the custom umbrella hanging beside it and viciously smashed it against the coat rack by the entrance!

Crash!

The wooden coat rack instantly shattered, but Oswald's umbrella was completely undamaged.

He held the umbrella as he bent over, his breathing gradually becoming heavier and more rapid.

"Penguin... Penguin!"

He muttered to himself as a horrifying gleam bloomed in his eyes.

"What disgusts me most is penguins... and you, Sabatino..."

Not long afterward, in the Iceberg Lounge's greatest secret—the club within the club known as Minus Forty-Four Degrees.

Falcone and Gotham's police commissioner, Peter Savage, sat across from Sabatino.

Their arrival made Sabatino shift his posture somewhat awkwardly.

Even after knowing Falcone for so many years, he still felt uncomfortable in Falcone's presence, just as anyone whose ambition could no longer be concealed would feel uncomfortable before a king.

And the king in his eyes...

Falcone was of average build and fairly tall. Though his hairline had begun to recede slightly, what remained was combed impeccably.

From a distance, no one could detect the slightest hint of danger from him. They might even think he was a good man among good men, a gentleman among gentlemen.

Yet it was precisely such a gentleman who made Sabatino cautious even with his breathing.

Seeing Sabatino's slight unease, Falcone smiled and handed him a glass of whiskey.

"Johnny, my old friend, you said on the phone that you had something important to discuss with me, so I came here at once.

What is it? Is this information inconvenient to mention in front of our commissioner?

If your answer is yes, then I'll have to blame you for giving our commissioner an excellent excuse to fool around with the girls!"

"This..."

Faced with Falcone's question, Sabatino nodded lightly, then turned to Commissioner Savage.

"Commissioner Savage, Minus Forty-Four Degrees recently acquired quite a few lovely Ukrainian girls. Two of them in particular haven't been touched by anyone, and they're especially enticing."

"Is that so? Then I'll make sure to lend them a helping hand!"

Commissioner Savage carried his whiskey glass out of the private room with a cheerful smile.

After the commissioner left, Sabatino turned to look at the only third person remaining in the room.

Meeting Sabatino's somewhat wary gaze, Falcone's personal bodyguard—and the Falcone Family's strongest assassin, Victor Zsasz—cruelly licked his lips.

Beside him, Falcone gently shook his head.

"Victor is an old friend. There is no need to hide anything from him."

"All right."

Sabatino nodded, then spoke with a grave expression.

"Boss Falcone, I think I've found the kind of person you told me to watch for... someone who can come back from the dead!"

"Oh?"

Falcone froze slightly at those words.

"When did I ever tell you to look for people who could come back from the dead..."

Halfway through, Falcone suddenly remembered something and stopped himself.

After a moment of silence, Falcone had to admit that he was getting old. If he had been younger, he would never have forgotten a single order he had given his subordinates!

Even if that order had been given more than a decade ago!

As he mourned his younger self inwardly, Falcone gave Sabatino an appreciative smile.

"Johnny, that was an order I gave you more than ten years ago. It's rare for you to have remembered it all this time."

"Boss, you know me. As long as it's your order, whether ten years or twenty years have passed, I'll treat it as my top priority!

I still remember it. It was probably fifteen summers ago when you told me to carefully search for people who could come back from the dead.

I searched for years without finding the slightest lead, until today, when I got into a fight with those bastards from the Dimitrov Family. Those Russians and I were actually attacked by a Wraith that came back from the dead!"

As he said this, Sabatino revealed a lingering look of fear.

Gotham had not yet entered an age of superhumans. To big shots among ordinary people like them, resurrection was truly difficult to believe.

And upon hearing that, Falcone...

Could not help but sink into thought.

Sabatino's words stirred many memories. Fifteen years ago was the year Thomas Wayne died.

It was in that very year that he, who believed he had ruled Gotham for more than a decade, first truly came into contact with the existence of the Court of Owls.

The Court of Owls' appearance dealt a tremendous psychological blow to him, who had once floated above the clouds. So, in secret, he had instructed several subordinates to cautiously search for information about Talons.

Talons who could come back from the dead were the Court of Owls' weapons for punishing and controlling all of Gotham.

Back then, he truly had entertained the thought of challenging the Court of Owls, but he had never found any valuable information about the Court of Owls or its Talons.

Now fifteen years had passed. He was already in his sixties, so old that he had begun fantasizing about a retirement where he could wash his hands of it all.

At such a critical moment, a Talon that could come back from the dead had reappeared—and had even intervened in the war between his subordinate Sabatino and the Russian mob, the Dimitrov Family!

In an instant, countless possibilities flashed through Falcone's mind, and every one of them pointed toward a bad ending!

Across from him on the sofa, Sabatino saw Falcone's brows suddenly knit tight, and his body immediately stiffened.

He knew his boss too well. He knew Falcone was angry at this moment!

Suppressing the fury in his heart, Falcone nodded at Sabatino as if it were nothing.

"Go on, Johnny."

"Okay, Boss. He was an Asian man in his twenties, probably over six feet tall.

He took part in the war between me and the Dimitrov Family twice. After being shot to death both times, his corpse spontaneously combusted out of thin air and then vanished.

Before long, another living, breathing version of him would appear again. But we only killed him twice. By the time he returned to the battlefield a third time, the Dimitrov Family and I had already finished fighting and withdrawn.

Later, I found out that after returning for the third time and failing to find us, he attacked a civilian and was then arrested by the police.

But not long after being arrested, he disappeared again. He was just like a Wraith from a story..."

Bang bang bang bang!!!

All of a sudden, a series of gunshots rang out from outside the private room.

Boom!

Then even an explosion sounded.

The sudden disturbance interrupted Sabatino. Victor Zsasz, standing beside Falcone, immediately drew his gun and knife and moved to the private room's door, cautiously searching for a gap to look through.

About a dozen seconds later, the gunfire and explosions stopped completely. After a brief inspection, Victor turned back and nodded to Falcone, indicating that it was safe.

At the same time, Falcone's phone rang.

Picking up the phone, Falcone answered it and spoke in a low voice.

"Oswald, I put you in charge of the Iceberg Lounge, not so you could give me such a surprise."

"My mistake, Boss. A big-spending lunatic slipped in.

But that lunatic is alone. He doesn't even count as trouble."

"I understand."

After receiving Oswald's confirmation, Falcone thought for a moment before decisively hanging up.

He did not believe Oswald had the nerve to openly betray and assassinate him at this point. What had happened just now was probably truly an accident.

So he waved a hand at Sabatino.

"It was nothing more than a very Gotham-style accident, Johnny. Continue!"