Counting the Spoils, Rich Overnight!

The abandoned underground brewery smelled of damp dust and the cloying sweetness of fermented malt.

Dozens of gang members who had just thrown the west side into chaos gathered there, unable to sit still.

They still reeked of gunpowder and blood. Their faces showed the exhaustion of battle and deep uncertainty about what came next.

Their leader, a burly man named Iron Spike, paced back and forth.

They had carried out that insane plan and drawn away Penguin's main force. But what now?

Could their mysterious new boss and that crazy woman really make it out of the Iceberg Lounge alive?

Just as the tension became unbearable, the base doors swung open.

Link and Harley walked in.

Link was still dressed in black, his face unreadable, as though he had merely stepped out for a stroll.

Harley hummed an off-key tune. A makeshift bandage wrapped one arm, but her steps were as light as a dancer's.

Every eye snapped toward them.

"Boss..." Iron Spike stepped forward, his voice dry. "How... did it go?"

Link did not answer.

He walked straight through the crowd to an old computer connected to a projector.

His fingers tapped the keyboard, entering a long, complicated password.

Everyone held their breath and stared at the mottled wall before him.

The projector lit up, casting a simple webpage onto the wall.

Union Bank of Switzerland. Anonymous account.

Then a line of numbers appeared.

Balance: $100,000,000.00

A one followed by eight zeros.

One hundred million dollars.

The entire brewery fell deathly silent.

Iron Spike's mouth slowly dropped open, wide enough to fit a fist.

Behind him, the outlaws rubbed their eyes one after another, convinced the bloody fight had left them seeing things.

The silence lasted three seconds.

Then the place erupted like a volcano.

"Oh—fuck!"

"What am I looking at? God, that's a hundred million!"

"We did it! We actually did it!"

Their deafening cheers nearly blew the roof off the Underground Base.

They hugged wildly, pounded one another's chests, and some even broke down in tears.

They were the dregs of Gotham, willing to risk their lives for a few hundred dollars in protection money. None of them had ever seen more than five figures in cash.

And now one hundred million dollars sat right there before their eyes.

This was not just money.

It was dignity. It was hope. It was a New Life they had never dared dream of!

Harley leaped onto a table and basked in the celebration like a queen. She blew Link a kiss.

"See that, sweetie? That's your magic!"

Link watched the cheering crowd, his expression unchanged.

Only when the noise had died down a little did he clap his hands.

Every eye turned to him again, filled with fervent admiration.

"This money isn't for you to drink away."

Link did not raise his voice, but everyone heard him clearly.

"It's our first bullet—a bullet aimed at the heart of old Gotham."

He stepped in front of them, his gaze sweeping over every excited face.

"Starting tomorrow, I want you to use this money for three things."

"First, upgrade your gear. Throw away the junk you're carrying and get military-grade weapons, body armor, encrypted communicators, and armored vehicles. I want every one of you armed to the teeth."

"Second, recruit more people. I don't want street punks. I want discharged soldiers, disillusioned hackers, fired cops. Anyone with a useful skill can join us, no matter who they used to be. We'll offer the best pay in Gotham."

"Third, build an intelligence network. Spread the money around. Buy off cops, politicians' aides, and servants in the Falcone and Maroni Families. I want to know everything happening in every dark corner of Gotham City."

Link paused. His voice held a chilling calm, as if everything he had said were only natural.

"Penguin has fallen, leaving a massive hole in Gotham's Underworld. Everyone else is thinking about how to carve up his corpse. We're going to replace him—and surpass him."

"What we're building isn't another gang."

"It's an empire."

"A New Order where we make the rules."

His words shook the people who, moments earlier, had been lost in the joy of sudden wealth.

For the first time, they realized just how ambitious the man they followed was.

This went far beyond anything they had imagined a gang war could be.

After their brief shock came a fiercer loyalty.

"We follow you to the death, boss!" Iron Spike was the first to drop to one knee, his roar hoarse.

"New Order! New Order!"

Everyone knelt with him. The light in their eyes was no longer mere greed for money, but a sense of purpose in something grand.

Link nodded in satisfaction.

He knew that only now had this group truly found its soul.

Harley jumped down from the table and walked to Link's side. As she watched him lay out his vision to his people, her gaze grew complicated.

She had seen Joker's madness and Batman's stubbornness.

But she had never seen anyone like him.

He had Joker's chaos, but he was far more purposeful.

He had Batman's intelligence, but he was far more ruthless.

He was neither simply a madman nor simply a hero.

He was a creator and a destroyer.

He stood atop Gotham's ruins, smiling as he prepared to build a kingdom of his own with his own hands.

And she would be its first and only queen.