When a night of chaos came to an end, Gotham's citizens did not feel the slightest bit saddened by what had happened last night. Life had to go on.
They still had to go to work today.
In Gotham, money did not fall from the sky very often. Occasionally, a pile of green bills would rain down, though most of it got burned.
Yet the people who arrived at Wayne Enterprises for work were all standing before Gotham's landmark, Wayne Tower, with its black exterior walls.
Everyone craned their necks and looked upward.
Batman might show up every night.
But Falcone, wearing nothing but briefs, bare-chested, and glued to the wall, was certainly a rare sight.
The renowned Roman, the infamous mafia godfather.
Now he was practically naked before the crowd, laid bare for all to see. Even his imposing face could not conceal the frailty of his body, while the coat woven from blood and terror—
Was torn to shreds beneath everyone's gazes.
If Miao Mu had not rounded up a group of shameless reporters last night, Falcone's last pair of underwear would probably have vanished as well. Today's extra-print blockbuster headline would have been—
Falcone's unspeakable personal fetishes.
At a tea restaurant not far from Wayne Enterprises headquarters, Brucie held a cup of milk coffee and gently swirled it.
There truly was no way to deal with Falcone in court. Who knew how deeply those judges and City Hall officials were tied to him?
But when it came to dealing with Falcone—or rather, these old-school mafia organizations—Brucie had plenty of experience.
Compared to lunatics like Joker, who wanted to drag everyone into some mad game at the drop of a hat, these traditional old-school mafias—
Cared more about profit, power, and reputation.
But if she wanted to defeat