I'm Just a Bouncer

Just over ten seconds later, Liv spread her legs like a compass.

Why did you ask why she was no longer crossing her legs?

Why the fuck would she? The man was dead!

Watching over thirty gunmen swarm him and shoot Downton full of holes through the explosions.

Liv rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching toward the heavens.

"What the fuck was I even expecting?"

She snorted irritably, too lazy to look at Downton's corpse.

Even eyes like Falcone's were no longer valuable once their owner was dead. They were worthless.

She merely felt a little regretful that such extraordinary eyes had appeared on a madman.

With a derisive shake of her head, Liv clapped her hands to quiet the dancers.

Just as Liv was impatiently calming the dancers, a string of startled cries suddenly came from outside.

"Fuck, he disappeared!"

"Did anyone see how he vanished?"

"He's on fire!"

"He had white phosphorus on him—he spontaneously combusted!"

The cries were fairly clear, but Liv paid them no mind. She still had to deal with the coming interrogation.

This attack had begun from her backstage area. Whether it was Oswald or Boss Falcone, both would question her. She had far too much to handle.

Before long, Oswald hurriedly put on a bulletproof vest and arrived at the scene with an umbrella in hand.

Using the umbrella to smack aside the underlings who were watching the show and make them clear a path, Oswald appeared where Downton's corpse had vanished.

He viciously poked the umbrella tip at the traces of the corpse's spontaneous combustion and asked in a low voice.

"So there was only one person from the beginning?

He broke into my club alone, made his way into my backstage alone, took out more than a dozen of my men alone, and then vanished alone!!!"

By this point, Oswald was so furious he nearly choked.

He would rather the enemy had been dozens or even hundreds of professional gunmen, because an enemy on that scale would not make him look incompetent!

As things stood, Oswald could only grit his teeth and point his umbrella at the underlings around him, who were silent as cicadas in winter.

"How did he do it? I want to know everything!"

In less than a minute, Bartel and the other three, pinned to the ground by everyone, told Oswald everything.

Why were there four of them?

Because the doorman who had taken money on his own had been dragged over too.

As for the cash they had accepted, it was currently piled in front of Oswald's shoes.

Driving the tip of his umbrella hard into the pile of cash, Oswald swept his hawkish gaze over the crowd and spoke word by word.

"How much is this? A mere sixteen thousand dollars!

Just sixteen thousand dollars pried open my doors and brought danger to the Iceberg Lounge, which had not been attacked in a full two years!

After I spent two whole years cultivating you idiots, this is the answer you give me!"

At that, Oswald forced himself to contain his anger, then pulled out his phone and called Falcone.

Facing Falcone's rebuke, Oswald nodded lightly before speaking.

"It was my fault, Boss. A free-spending madman slipped in under my nose.

But that madman was alone. He wasn't even worth calling trouble."

When he finished speaking, Oswald waited respectfully for the call to end.

Once the line went dead, Oswald looked again at Bartel and the other three, who were being held down tightly.

"A mere sixteen thousand dollars, huh? So the jobs I gave you were all worth less than sixteen thousand dollars, is that it?!"

"Perhaps it was more than sixteen thousand, Mr. Oswald. I have more here!"

Liv, who had just collected the cash back from the panicked dancers, walked toward Oswald from afar.

Arriving beside the sofa where Oswald sat, Liv tossed even more cash in front of him.

"This guy handed quite a bit out to the women in my area. I did a quick count—at least forty thousand."

"Then that makes fifty-six thousand, heh..."

Liv's addition at least gave Oswald some comfort. Compared to a little over ten thousand, fifty-odd thousand was indeed better.

At the very least, it would cover repairs for the blown-up floors and walls.

But that was not how things were done. Oswald could not take all the money for himself, especially the cash Liv had brought over.

Although Liv had worked with the Falcone Family for a long time, she was also in charge of the dancers in every bar across Gotham.

She also moved among every crime family in Gotham as a broker.

All in all, Liv was not a subordinate of the Falcone Family. They were merely partners.

So Oswald used his umbrella to sweep through the pile of cash and continued speaking to Liv.

"It's all yours, Liv. Take it and distribute it among the frightened women.

But before that, you're responsible for restoring the club to its original state."

"Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Oswald."

Liv nodded, and girls immediately crouched down to gather the cash.

Just as all the gunmen were staring at the large white bills on the floor, a flippant voice suddenly came from beyond the crowd.

"Such a lively gathering. You weren't waiting for me, were you?"

As he called out, Downton used his pistol to shove aside the gunmen blocking his way and walked toward the center of the crowd.

Because of the violent incident that had just occurred, the club was brightly lit, and everyone immediately recognized Downton's face.

The thugs in the rear of the crowd who had never seen Downton were one thing, but every person who had truly seen him drew in a sharp breath, each doing their part to accelerate global warming.

Click!

Countless pistols aimed at Downton.

Downton ignored the guns pointed at him and waved at Liv in the center of the crowd.

Seeing Downton alive and well, Liv covered her mouth in shock.

Beside her, Oswald stared fixedly at Downton while asking the stunned Liv.

"Liv, you were closest to him. Are you certain it's really him?"

"I'm absolutely certain!"

Liv nodded heavily.

"A person's body and face may be disguised, but their eyes cannot. I will never forget those eyes!"

"Good!"

Oswald drew a deep breath, then stood from the sofa.

Facing the approaching Downton, he spoke while holding his umbrella.

"It seems Gotham has gained another impossible thing."

"Not even close. Gotham's future will have so many impossible things you couldn't count them all. Sadly, you won't live to see that day, Sabatino."

Facing the calm and composed Oswald, Downton grinned. He was close enough now!

Once he had found his target, Downton could not be bothered with small talk. He swiftly raised his pistol.

The instant the muzzle aimed at him, Oswald finally lost his previous composure and immediately tried to roll to the side.

Unfortunately, he had been putting on too much of an act earlier. Before he could even push off with his legs, Downton's bullet struck him!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Only one of the three shots hit Oswald in the chest, but the Desert Eagle's immense force still sent him flying!

"The boss is dead!"

"Dinner's served!"

"He took out the boss!"

"Fuck, kill him, kill—"

"Wait, that's a lot of grenades!"

Before the gunmen around him could fire, Downton pulled out nine grenades linked together in a chain.

One of his fingers was hooked through a grenade pin, and the grenades could explode at any moment.

The sight of them threw the gunmen into chaos, and they hurriedly scattered into the distance.

At the same time, hearing his men's shouts, Oswald, lying on the ground, struggled to draw a breath.

"Help... help me. I'm not dead yet. I'm wearing a bulletproof vest...

My bones are broken... wait, don't come over here!!!"

Before Oswald could finish, Downton had already pounced on top of him.

The instant the Desert Eagle's massive muzzle pressed against Oswald's forehead, Oswald's adrenaline instantly hit peak performance mode!

"Wait, no, you've got the wrong person!"

In the face of death, Oswald, who had been weak and helpless just moments ago, not only became extraordinarily rational but also let out a high note worthy of Pavarotti.

"I'm not the Sabatino you mentioned! Do I look like some big shot? I'm just a bouncer!

I'm Oswald! Fuck Sabatino—he really deserves to die!!!"