Displaying Divine Power Before Others

In this godforsaken place called Gotham, there had never been any true light. Harvey Dent, who had wanted to become Gotham's shining knight, had failed and fallen into becoming Two-Face. Even Batman could only become the Dark Knight, using darkness to fight darkness.

The Gotham City Police Department had been corrupted by Gotham's criminal underworld countless years ago, becoming a shield and accomplice for criminals.

"So you think that with Chidi Cole dead, we've lost our protection, and might even have to face pressure from both the Two-Face Gang and the Gotham City Police Department?"

Shimizu rested his chin on his hand, his gaze thoughtful.

"This..."

"Forget it. I'll handle that. Tell me about the gang's current situation."

"Boss Wade, let me explain! I handled the books for Chidi ol—Chidi, that brat. Aside from this factory at the edge of the old industrial district, our gang's territory includes all of Hogg Street."

A bespectacled middle-aged white man smiled ingratiatingly at Shimizu. He then pulled a small booklet from his back pocket, moistened his finger with spit, flipped it open, and said:

"Every household on the street pays three hundred dollars in protection money every month. We take half the profits from six shops, and there's also a department store and a used motorcycle shop. Over the past year, they've provided us with an average monthly income of more than fifty thousand dollars."

"But fifty percent of that has to be paid as tribute to the Two-Face Gang. Chidi Cole takes half of what's left, and the remainder is barely enough for the brothers to get by, never mind live it up. So the brothers usually take on side jobs too—manual labor, watching over businesses for people, that sort of thing."

"Also, we have seven handguns, all secondhand, and a little over a hundred rounds of ammunition. No other firearms. But we can use the motorcycles in the used bike shop whenever we want. As for the rest of our weapons, there are baseball bats, crowbars..."

Shimizu could not help raising an eyebrow.

The Cole Gang was really poor.

And this was still the small gang with the best foundation he had found in Gotham's slums.

Now it seemed their good foundation was only because Two-Face's Two-Face Gang was protecting them.

After Chidi Cole and his brother Keman Cole took half, the more than thirty members only received three or four hundred dollars each on average.

How was that enough to live on anywhere in Gotham?

But once someone joined the Cole Gang, they would at least be less likely to get bullied in the slums, and they could bully ordinary civilians too.

In a place like Gotham, three or four hundred dollars a month was practically slave wages.

But if those three or four hundred dollars were treated as base pay, while manual labor, guarding businesses, backing people up, or slipping through streets and alleyways to commit robberies and thefts counted as commission, then the money these thugs earned in their daily lives was actually enough for them to indulge themselves.

"I understand. The Cole brothers take more than ten thousand dollars every month, so Chidi Cole should have quite a bit of property too. Take us to get it."

Shimizu waved at the respectable-looking middle-aged white man.

"Well... Boss Wade, I handled the books for Chidi, but..."

"You think I believe that?"

Shimizu stared at the bespectacled white man.

"Sorry, Boss Wade. I really don't know. But Chidi has a room here that no one is allowed to enter, and only he and his brother have the key."

The middle-aged white man forced a smile.

At the same time, his eyes shifted toward the indistinct pile of flesh and blood on the floor.

The key was probably no longer usable.

"Lead the way."

Shimizu rose from his chair, clasped his hands behind his back, and crooked a finger, controlling Black Gold to walk to his side.

"Hehehe, yes, Boss Wade. My name is Dura, Dura Bent. I graduated from the accounting program at Gladia Church University in Gotham. A few years ago, I got sent to prison for cooking the books for a company. My wife and kid ran off, I went bankrupt, so I came here to scrape out a living..."

"It's fine. Only someone who's been to prison can be considered to have completed their accounting internship. I have high hopes for you becoming Gotham's top accountant one day."

"Boss, I'm Anger! I can repair cars. I run our gang's used motorcycle shop..."

"Boss Wade, I'm Frank..."

Along the way, the thugs scrambled to introduce themselves, hoping to leave some kind of impression on Shimizu.

Just looking at the imposing, towering Black Gold, anyone could tell that another powerful supervillain was about to emerge in Gotham City. The gang's future clearly could not compare to those of other small gangs.

If they currying favor with the new boss now, they might even become successful gang bosses themselves in the future.

Boom!

Black Gold smashed Chidi Cole's door to pieces with a single Pneumatic Fist.

"Search."

Shimizu gave the order flatly.

"Yes!"

"Got it, Boss!"

"Understood!"

The thugs began searching in a chaotic frenzy.

"Boss, would you like to sit for a while?"

A Blondie dragged over a chair and placed it behind Shimizu.

"Boss, let me massage your legs!"

"Boss Wade! I'll knead your shoulders!"

"Get to work. Following orders is far more important than sucking up to me."

Shimizu kicked the chair away and said coldly.

They were all just fierce, brawling street punks. There was no way they could obey orders as strictly as ninjas or soldiers.

But instilling discipline was the best way to raise the combat strength of a disorganized rabble.

If Shimizu wanted to become Gotham's underworld kingpin, he had to start cultivating a group of obedient subordinates now.

The facts proved that Gotham's bottom-rung thugs were far inferior to the elite talents in Arkham. They could not even find anything while searching.

By evening, when darkness was about to fall, they still had not found a single cent.

"Turn on the lights. Keep searching."

Shimizu sat on Black Gold's shoulder, looking down at the room from above.

He had been watching as well.

Most of the room had already been searched. The remaining places did not look like they could hide money, nor did they seem suitable for setting traps.

Accountant Dura hurriedly pressed the light switch, only to find that the light would not turn on.

"Boss! I know how to fix light bulbs! Give me a few minutes, and I'll have it fixed right away!"

A thug with hair dyed in every color raised his hand and shouted.

"Go."

Shimizu decided that if they could not find anything within another half hour, he would simply have Black Gold tear the place apart.

Soon, one of the subordinates found a stepladder and helped the thug up to fix the bulb.

The bulb's base turned once. Before the bulb could even be removed, the ceiling beside it loosened first, revealing a crack.

Shimizu's eyes flickered, and he ordered, "Stop for now."

He then gathered Chakra beneath his feet, walked up the wall, and moved upside down across the ceiling.

The thugs stared in dumbstruck amazement. The guy fixing the bulb nearly fell off the ladder.