A Deal with Penguin

"Oh, my friend, you finally came out of that shabby little base of yours. Is that your weapon? He's a perfect big fellow."

Penguin entered the factory and immediately spotted the towering Black Gold puppet, brimming with the sleek aesthetic of steel and technology.

"Where are the goods?"

Shimizu removed his welding mask and looked at Penguin.

"Boss, the goods are all outside—more than twenty guns, over a thousand bullets, plus riot shields and bulletproof vests!"

The accountant nodded and bowed to Shimizu.

"Hehe, these guns are just a small business. If you could mass-produce and sell this thing, I guarantee you'd become Gotham's richest... well, second-richest man."

Penguin rubbed his hands together, cigar clenched between his teeth as he examined Black Gold.

The thing looked like it packed quite a punch.

"Why second-richest?"

Shimizu asked Penguin.

"Because Gotham's richest man is Bruce Wayne. You can't surpass Wayne Enterprises' wealth with this alone."

Penguin adjusted his glasses.

"So? Want to work together? You provide the technology, and I provide the resources and channels. When the time comes, who cares about Batman? No matter how strong he is, can he beat an army made up of robots like this?"

"Unfortunately, only I can use this thing after it's made. Even if I gave you all the technology, you still wouldn't be able to make it move."

Shimizu raised his left hand. Using invisible Chakra Threads, he controlled Black Gold as it walked to his side and disassembled, then covered his entire body within three seconds.

"Let's go."

The massive black puppet moved with steady yet swift strides toward the factory doors.

Buying ordinary things from Penguin only required money, but unusual goods—such as Queen Industries' cutting-edge compact Sensors—required more than that.

Fortunately, Penguin knew some of Shimizu's background, so he cautiously proposed a partnership.

Shimizu would spend money through Penguin's channels to purchase weapons to develop his gang, as well as materials and high-tech products to strengthen his puppet. Penguin, meanwhile, needed an ally who appeared to have little connection to him but could fight well enough to handle certain opponents.

This was a test—testing just how capable Shimizu was, this fellow villain who had escaped Arkham Asylum with Batman and Nightwing there.

So far, he had already exceeded Penguin's expectations.

"It'd be too conspicuous to go over there directly. I'll sell you the truck carrying the goods. I'll give you a friends-and-family price—just fifty thousand dollars."

Penguin stood at the door with a smile and pointed at a large truck parked in the open space ahead.

"I want you to help me deal with the Sparletta Family on Decker Street. Last month, they hijacked one of my shipments. They covered their tracks well, and I have no proof, but I'm certain they did it. Take care of Simmons Sparletta and his son, John Sparletta, and Decker Street will be your territory."

"We have no reason to make a move. Find us one."

Shimizu inspected the truck twice before speaking to Penguin.

"Isn't that easy? Just make one up. For example, you can pin the death of Chidi Cole, the former boss of your Cole Gang, directly on them. It would also help you avoid a conflict with the Two-Face Gang, wouldn't it?"

Penguin took a satisfied puff of his cigar as he answered.

"Fine, but we're not called the Cole Gang anymore. We're Hogg United.

And I can't afford fifty thousand dollars. Besides, even though this truck has been modified, it's secondhand. Thirty thousand at most, and—"

"Deal."

Penguin agreed readily.

Shimizu: ...

Misjudged that. I should've pushed the price down further.

"I'll put the thirty thousand on credit for now. I don't have the money."

"That's fine. My interest rate is very low, only three percent..."

"Oh, that really is low. How about I borrow a million first..."

"Three percent monthly interest. You just said you wanted to borrow a million, correct?"

Penguin adjusted his glasses, his old face filled with smiles.

"You call that a low interest rate?"

"Of course. Among Gotham's loan sharks, I'm one of the most conscientious. Other people give you interest rates that are outright impossible to repay, but I'm different. I keep it right at the limit, squeezing every last bit of value out of you. That way, you can create more wealth for me to harvest."

Penguin said proudly, pulling a calculator from the pocket of his coat.

"You just said you wanted to borrow a million, plus thirty thousand for the truck. Then the interest for one month would be..."

"I'm not borrowing it anymore. I'll pay you the thirty thousand tomorrow."

"All right, what a shame. But at three percent a month, the daily interest is still one-thousandth. You'll have to make that up when you pay me tomorrow."

Shimizu was speechless.

This guy really did have a knack for making money, but he really would squeeze every cent out of people just as he had said.

"The driver is one of mine. He'll take you to Simmons Sparletta. Good luck. Also, don't make too much of a scene. Someone at the Gotham City Police Department will help us keep it under wraps, but smaller is better. Wouldn't want the bat-brat to notice. Finally..."

Penguin removed his cigar and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

"My driver is paid fifty dollars an hour. You'll have to cover that too."

That money-grubbing bastard.

"Move out!"

Shimizu stepped into the truck's cargo compartment and shouted at his men.

"Woohoo!"

"Charge!"

"Fuck those sons of bitches up!"

The thugs erupted into cheers, grabbed their newly acquired weapons, and mounted their motorcycles.

The cargo door of the truck lowered. The roar of motorcycle and truck engines rang out as the group surged down the street in grand formation.

"Boss, will they win?"

A man in a suit stood behind Penguin, watching Hogg United disappear at the end of the street.

"There shouldn't be a problem. Puppet Master's strength may be far beyond our previous assessment. You can tell just by looking at the big thing he's wearing. His subordinates, though, aren't much. They look like they've never done any hard jobs. They can probably only fight when they have the advantage, waving flags and shouting."

Penguin leaned on his umbrella and looked up at the sky.

Night fell quietly, and Gotham's sky turned a gloomy black.

That was Gotham's underlying color, and the color of bats.

But...

"Perhaps Gotham's underworld will soon see a major shift in its balance of power. It won't be a complete upheaval, but if we make an investment now, we should make a hefty profit. At the very least, I'm certain we won't lose money."

Penguin checked the time on his watch, opened the door of the luxury sedan beside him, and got in.

"Let's go, Bob. Next, we need to discuss business with Marone. We can't waste precious time that could be spent making money."

"Yes, Boss."