The Throne Crumbles, the Penguin's End!

In the banquet hall, the last gunshots fell silent.

Only the cold mist from the fire sprinklers remained, along with the wail of police sirens drawing closer.

"We gotta go, sweetie! The cops are almost here!" Harley waved her baseball bat with her uninjured hand. Blood and some unidentifiable cream still clung to it.

"No rush." Link looked past the wrecked banquet hall toward the back rooms. "The star hasn't taken his final bow."

He headed for the office backstage.

Harley paused, then realized what he meant. An even more excited, unhinged smile spread across her face as she hurried after him.

At the end of the corridor, a pair of expensive mahogany doors stood ajar.

What came from inside was neither a plea for help nor a call for backup, but the frantic crash of things being smashed and a man's howl of utter despair.

Link kicked the doors open.

The scene inside was even more chaotic than the banquet hall.

A priceless antique vase lay shattered across the floor, expensive murals had been torn to shreds, and a massive desk had been overturned.

Oswald Cobblepot, the Penguin, knelt on the floor like a rabid boar, pounding a tablet whose screen had gone black.

"No! No! My money! Where's my money?"

His ridiculous face was streaked with tears and snot, its muscles twisted by fear. Not a trace of his usual authority remained.

At last, he saw Link and Harley in the doorway.

In his beady, clouded eyes, overwhelming terror gave way in an instant to a fiercer rage that seemed ready to destroy everything.

"You! It was you!"

The Penguin let out an inhuman shriek. He scrambled across the floor and seized the black umbrella he never went without.

"I'll tear you to pieces!"

He jabbed a button on the umbrella.

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

The tip sprang open, and a row of dark barrels spat a dense hail of gunfire.

It wasn't an umbrella at all. It was a disguised submachine gun!

Link reacted faster.

The instant the Penguin raised his hand, Link grabbed a heavy metal chair beside him and held it up as a shield.

Every bullet struck the chair with a sharp metallic clatter, sending sparks flying.

"Wow! Now that's an exciting magic trick!" Harley shrieked as she ducked behind the door.

The magazine ran dry. Panting, the Penguin pressed another button.

Hiss—

Yellow-green smoke sprayed from the umbrella handle and billowed toward Link.

"Watch out! It's poison gas!" Harley shouted.

Link didn't even blink.

Just before the smoke reached him, he hurled the chair upward and kicked off the wall.

The spinning chair slammed into the ceiling and struck the office's fire sprinkler dead on.

Cold water poured down, suppressing the gas and soaking the Penguin to the bone.

The Penguin lost his mind completely.

Every weapon he could use from a distance had failed. It was as if this man could predict his every move!

"I'll kill you!"

Roaring, he drew a gleaming blade from the umbrella handle and charged at Link with an agility that belied his bulk.

It was the last struggle of a cornered animal.

Facing that desperate thrust, Link finally showed a flicker of impatience.

The Penguin closed in, the blade a heartbeat from piercing Link's chest.

Link moved.

He shifted slightly to one side, letting the deadly blade miss by a hair.

At the same time, his hand shot out like an iron clamp and caught the Penguin's sword wrist.

The Penguin felt his wrist go numb, then a searing pain tore through it. He could no longer hold the umbrella sword. It flew from his hand and buried itself in the far wall.

"No... impossible..."

The Penguin stared in horror at his trapped hand. His last and proudest weapon had been no sturdier than a toy against this man.

Link wasn't finished.

His other hand became a blade. It flashed down and struck the Penguin's knee.

Crack!

"Aaah!"

The sharp snap of bone was followed by the Penguin's scream.

His left leg bent at a grotesque angle. Unable to stand, he collapsed onto his knees.

Then came another chop.

Crack!

His right kneecap shattered too.

The Penguin crumpled to the floor, limp as a rag. The pain nearly knocked him unconscious.

Link walked over to him, then bent and picked up the broken umbrella.

He planted a foot on the Penguin's face, twisted with pain and fear, and pinned his head in the cold water pooling on the floor.

Snap!

Right before the Penguin's eyes, Link broke the umbrella that had been at his side for half his life across his knee.

"No... my... my umbrella..." the Penguin whimpered, his words muffled. This humiliated him more than having his legs broken.

It was an utter trampling of his identity, his standing, and even his soul.

Link tossed the broken umbrella aside, crouched, and leaned close to the Penguin's ear.

His voice was cold and emotionless, like a judgment from the depths of Hell.

"I won't kill you, Oswald."

"I want you alive. I want you to watch with your own eyes."

"Watch your empire fall apart overnight."

"Watch the hyenas who once groveled at your feet swarm in and tear at your flesh."

"Watch all of Gotham welcome its new king."

With that, Link stood. He didn't spare the wreck on the floor another glance.

Harley stepped out from behind the door. She looked at Link with fervent adoration in her eyes.

She walked up to the Penguin, pulled a bright red lipstick from her pocket, and drew a huge, ridiculous smiley face on his forehead.

"Good night, little ducky."

She giggled and hooked her arm through Link's.

They turned and left, putting the Penguin's despairing sobs and the approaching sirens behind them.

The throne of the Iceberg Lounge had crumbled that night.

And Gotham's long night had only just begun.