An Unexpected Event with a Gotham Flair

The retort Sabatino had painstakingly prepared was stifled by Oswald's declaration, leaving him wide-eyed and choking on his own words.

After a dozen seconds of heavy, ragged breathing, Sabatino spat on the floor and gave a light shake to his suit jacket, which had been riddled with holes.

"Is your 'all-in' just adding a few holes to my clothes? Penguin, is that all you can do in bed, too—just slobber all over a woman's face?"

With those words spoken, Sabatino finally felt a bit more at ease. Without waiting for Oswald to respond, he quickly raised his hand in a gesture mimicking a telephone.

"I didn't come to the Iceberg Lounge to talk business with a runt like you. I already contacted Falcone before I arrived! You just keep guarding your iceberg; I'll be waiting for Falcone at Minus Forty-Four Degrees. Remember to keep a good watch on the door for me!"

Having said his piece, Sabatino spat once more near Oswald's feet, then stripped off his jacket with an expression of utter disgust and revulsion.

Tossing the coat onto the floor, Sabatino walked deeper into the Iceberg Lounge, shaking his head and sneering.

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

"Heh..."

Watching Sabatino's retreating back, Oswald gave a deep, mirthless smile, then exhaled a long plume of cigar smoke.

Only when the smoke was about to dissipate in the air did he raise his hand to address his underlings nearby.

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

With that, Oswald turned around and limped toward his office.

Once inside, he solemnly locked the door, picked up the custom umbrella hanging by the entrance, and smashed it violently against the coat rack!

Crash!

The wooden rack shattered instantly, yet Oswald's umbrella remained completely unscathed.

He leaned on the umbrella, hunched over, his breathing growing increasingly heavy and rapid.

"Penguin... Penguin!"

He muttered to himself, his eyes erupting with a terrifying light.

"The thing I loathe most is the Penguin... and you, Sabatino..."

Not long after, inside the Iceberg Lounge's greatest secret—the club within the club known as Minus Forty-Four Degrees—Falcone and Gotham Police Commissioner Peter Savage sat opposite Sabatino.

Their arrival caused Sabatino to shift his posture, looking somewhat unnatural.

Even after knowing Falcone for so many years, he still felt uneasy in his presence, much like anyone who could no longer hide their ambition would feel uneasy before a king.

And the king in his eyes...

Falcone was of medium build and quite tall; though he showed signs of balding, the remaining hair was combed with meticulous precision.

From a distance, one could never detect a hint of danger from him; one might even mistake him for the kindest of men, a gentleman among gentlemen.

Yet it was precisely this kind of gentleman who made even Sabatino's breathing cautious.

Observing the slightly stiff Sabatino, 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 rushed here immediately. Tell me, is this news not suitable to be mentioned in front of our Commissioner? If you say yes, I'll have to blame you for giving our dear Commissioner such a good excuse to go dally with the girls!"

"This..."

Faced with Falcone's inquiry, Sabatino nodded slightly, then turned to Commissioner Savage.

"Commissioner Savage, Minus Forty-Four Degrees has recently acquired quite a few lovely girls from Ukraine. Two of them, who haven't been touched yet, are particularly enticing."

"Is that so? Then I really must go and give them a hand!"

Commissioner Savage left the private room with a chuckle, clutching his whiskey glass.

Once the Commissioner was gone, Sabatino turned his gaze toward the only other person left in the room.

Meeting Sabatino's wary look, Victor Zsasz, Falcone's personal bodyguard and the strongest assassin of the Falcone family, licked his lips cruelly.

Beside him, Falcone shook his head gently.

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

"Very well."

Sabatino nodded, then said with a grave expression.

"Boss Falcone, I think I've found the kind of person you asked me to keep an eye on... the kind who can return from the dead!"

"Oh?"

Hearing this, Falcone was slightly taken aback.

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

Halfway through his sentence, Falcone suddenly remembered something and cut himself off.

After a moment of silence, Falcone had to admit that he was getting old; if it were his younger self, he would never have forgotten a single order he had given to his subordinates!

Even if that order had been issued over a decade ago!

While mourning his youth in his heart, Falcone flashed an appreciative smile at Sabatino.

"Johnny, that was an order I gave you over ten years ago. It's rare that you've kept it in mind until now."

"Boss, you know me. As long as it's your order, whether it's been ten years or twenty, I treat it as a top priority! I still remember it clearly—it was the summer about fifteen years ago when you told me to cautiously search for someone who could return from the dead. I've been searching for so many years without a single lead, until today, when I was fighting those bastards from the Dimitrov family. That group of Russians and I were actually attacked by a ghost who came back from the dead!"

As he said this, Sabatino wore an expression of lingering fear.

Gotham had not yet entered an era of the supernatural, and the concept of resurrection was truly hard for these titans among mortals to believe.

Hearing this, Falcone...

He couldn't help but fall into deep thought.

Sabatino's words stirred up many memories; fifteen years ago was the very year Thomas Wayne died.

It was in that same year that he, having considered himself the ruler of Gotham for over a decade, first truly encountered the existence of the Court of Owls.

The appearance of the Court of Owls had dealt a massive psychological blow to him while he was still riding high, so he had secretly signaled a few subordinates to cautiously search for news of the Talons.

The Talons, who could return from the dead, were the weapons the Court of Owls used to discipline and manipulate all of Gotham.

At that time, he had indeed harbored thoughts of challenging the Court of Owls, but he had never found any valuable information regarding the Court or the Talons.

Now, fifteen years had passed, he was over sixty, and he was old enough to start fantasizing about a retirement life of washing his hands of the business.

At this critical juncture, a resurrected Talon had actually reappeared and interfered in the war between his subordinate Sabatino and the Russian-descended Dimitrov family!

In a fleeting moment, countless possibilities flashed through Falcone's mind, and every single one of them pointed toward a grim outcome!

Across the sofa, seeing Falcone's brows suddenly knit together, Sabatino's body stiffened.

He knew his boss too well; he knew that at this moment, Falcone was furious!

Suppressing the anger in his heart, Falcone gave Sabatino a casual nod.

"Continue, Johnny."

"OK, Boss. It was an Asian man, about twenty years old, probably over six feet tall. He participated in the war between me and the Dimitrov family twice. After being shot to death both times, his body would spontaneously combust out of thin air and then vanish. Not long after, a living version of him would reappear. We only killed him twice, though; by the time he returned to the battlefield for the third time, the Dimitrov family and we had already finished fighting and left. Later, I investigated and found that when he came back the third time and couldn't find us, he attacked a citizen and was arrested by the police. But shortly after being arrested, he disappeared again. It was just like a ghost from a story..."

Bang, bang, bang, bang!!!

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

Boom!

Even the sound of an explosion followed.

The sudden situation interrupted Sabatino's words. Victor Zsasz, who was beside Falcone, immediately drew his gun and knife and headed toward the door, cautiously searching for a gap to observe.

After about ten seconds, the gunfire and explosions ceased completely, and Victor turned back to nod at Falcone, signaling that it was safe.

At the same time, Falcone's phone rang.

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

"Oswald, I put you in charge of the Iceberg Lounge, but that wasn't so you could give me such a surprise."

"My apologies, Boss. A big-spending lunatic managed to sneak in. But the lunatic is just one person; he doesn't even qualify as a problem."

"I see."

Having received confirmation from Oswald, Falcone thought for a moment before hanging up the phone decisively.

He didn't think the current Oswald had the guts to directly betray or assassinate him; what just happened must have been a genuine accident.

He waved a hand at Sabatino.

"It was just an accident with a bit of Gotham flair, Johnny. Continue!"