Mutation? I Can Do That Too

"Hey, little Penguin!"

At the flippant greeting, the Iceberg Lounge staff instantly felt a chill run from head to toe. No one had dared use that nickname in a long time, especially in front of Oswald.

Penguin slowly turned his head and narrowed his eyes at Jude. "And who are you?"

"A Gothamite. I want to discuss something with you."

Penguin smiled. "Very well. Come to my office."

Jude shrugged and followed without a care. Everyone else watched his back with pity. In their eyes, Jude was already dead.

Creak! Bang!

The office door opened and shut. The moment Jude stepped inside, two pitch-black gun barrels were already aimed at his head.

Penguin took off his trench coat and hung it up, straightened his top hat, then sat down in his chair. "Go ahead. Any last words? If you don't say them now, you won't get another chance."

Facing the two guns, Jude showed no sign of nervousness. Instead, he asked, "Penguin, don't you recognize me?"

Oswald froze for a moment. After studying him carefully, he said, "You don't look familiar at all."

Jude frowned. "Didn't the Foot Clan and Bob Dylan ask you to deal with me?"

That immediately made Penguin understand. When Bob Dylan had handed him Jude's information, he had not even looked at it before passing it down to his subordinates. He would not bother himself with such trivial matters.

What he had not expected was that the five Foot Clan members had also been killed by the man before him. And since the man had come here, the people Penguin had sent must already be dead. Interesting.

"So you're the one who extorted Bob Dylan and killed the Foot Clan members. They asked me to investigate you, and your timing is perfect."

After saying that, Penguin tipped his forehead upward. His two subordinates understood and flicked off their safeties, preparing to finish Jude.

"I advise you not to do that. It'll cost you your life."

"Oh? Is that so? And what makes you think that?"

"This."

As he spoke, Jude held up a bomb encased in a pale yellow shell.

"This is a Dirty Bomb, specially made by me using some unique techniques. Don't let its size fool you. Once it explodes, it can level this entire hotel, and the Fallout will affect at least one city block."

After Jude finished, the two subordinates could not help taking a step back. Penguin also picked up the Bulgarian Umbrella at the corner of his desk. It looked like an ordinary umbrella, but it concealed countless mechanisms.

It contained all kinds of weapons—knives, guns, swords, even small missiles, lasers, flamethrowers, and other highly destructive devices. When necessary, the umbrella could even serve as a small helicopter or shield, helping him defend himself or escape.

"Mr. Oswald, with this Dirty Bomb, even if you had ten umbrellas, you'd still be blown into a pile of meat. Feel free to test it if you don't believe me."

Penguin stared fixedly at Jude, considering whether he could kill him before he detonated it. But after a moment, he abandoned the idea. The risk was too high. He was going to run for mayor—how could he throw away his life over this kind of trash?

With that thought, he motioned for his two subordinates to leave. The two immediately fled as though they had been pardoned.

"My apologies. Your name was?"

"Jude Herbert."

"Very well, Jude. It seems we need to have a talk. Tell me, why did you come looking for me?"

Jude smiled faintly. "It seems you admit to sending assassins after me."

Penguin did not bother hiding it and smiled as well. "That's right. I did give the order yesterday. But if I had known what you were capable of, we wouldn't have needed to go this far."

"Mr. Herbert, there is no conflict between us. You may leave right now, safe and unharmed."

"That simple?"

Penguin folded his hands. "That simple. Bob Dylan, Shredder—no one can order me around."

Jude frowned at that. He seemed to have heard an interesting name.

"Wait, Mr. Oswald. This Shredder you mentioned—is he the leader of the Foot Clan?"

Penguin said in surprise, "You actually know that? You really aren't ordinary. Yes, Shredder is the boss of the Foot Clan."

Jude suddenly burst into laughter. He had thought the Foot Clan was merely some small gang with the same name. He had not expected it to really be the Foot Clan from the Ninja Turtles.

The Foot Clan showing up in Gotham City was strange, but not especially strange, because DC really had made an animated movie called "Batman vs. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles." Though the title was cliché, the plot had actually been quite good.

And now Penguin was working with the Foot Clan. Jude's mind raced, and within moments, he guessed the connection.

"Let me guess, Mr. Oswald. You're cooperating with the Foot Clan because you want their Mutagen, aren't you?"

Penguin's heart skipped a beat. How did he know? Just as he was about to speak, Jude cut him off.

"No need to explain. That has to be it, because the most valuable thing the Foot Clan has, as far as you're concerned, is the Mutagen."

"You may be Gotham's underground emperor, but at heart, you're still a pitiful, cowardly, insecure little Penguin desperate to prove yourself. And that cowardice and insecurity all stem from this deformed body of yours."

Penguin's expression turned terrifyingly twisted. He suddenly grabbed the Bulgarian Umbrella at the corner of the desk. He no longer cared about the Dirty Bomb. All he wanted was to kill this hateful bastard in front of him.

But Jude moved faster, pressing down on his hand and leaning close enough that his face was nearly touching Penguin's. "What? Did I hit a sore spot? Why did your family abandon you? Because of this deformed body."

"But you think the Foot Clan will help you? Bullshit. Don't let them fool you. Do you know who stands behind the Foot Clan?"

"Let me tell you. It's Ra's al Ghul of the League of Assassins, the Demon's Head. The Foot Clan wants the Waters of Eternal Life from the Lazarus Pit, so they made a deal with the Demon's Head. The price is helping him destroy Gotham. And if Gotham is gone, will you, Penguin, still exist?"

Penguin's hand loosened slightly, but he still asked darkly, "How do you know all this?"

"I know everything!"

After a long standoff, Penguin dropped into his chair. His fingers tapped against the desk as he sank into thought. The Foot Clan had always operated in New York, so their sudden arrival in Gotham had been suspicious from the start. But the Mutagen was simply too tempting, dulling his judgment.

Jude cleared his throat. "Mr. Oswald, if you truly want to become a normal person again, I can help you."

Penguin shot him a glance. "You? Why should I believe you?"

"First, I have the ability. I made a Dirty Bomb and this laser emitter out of a pile of junk. I am the smartest scientist in the world."

"Second, I need something from you. I need you to investigate someone for me, so I have no reason to harm you."

"Third, compared with me acting alone, you have no control over the Foot Clan whatsoever, let alone the League of Assassins behind it."

"As long as you trust me, I can give you a satisfactory answer within a week at most. And how long will you have to wait for the Foot Clan's promise?"

Penguin said nothing. He merely stared hard at Jude. In this man, he saw a terrifying confidence, the kind that made him unable to stop himself from wanting to believe him.

"What do you need?"

"Only a laboratory."

"Who do you need me to investigate?"

"Ivy Pepper."

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