Swallowing Black Mask, the East End's New Master!

The air in Black Mask's office seemed to have frozen.

Roman Sionis slumped in his expensive leather chair. Through the one-way glass, he could see the main workshop below, a scene straight out of hell.

Screams, snapping bones, and that madwoman's sick laughter mingled into a symphony of death.

The hundred armed men he had taken such pride in had been slaughtered by the two people below in less than ten minutes.

"Tap, tap, tap..."

Dress shoes sounded on the stairs, unhurried. Every step seemed to land on his heart.

The door opened.

Link walked in. He did not even look at the carnage on the floor. He simply went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a whiskey.

Harley leaned against the doorframe with her still-dripping Baseball Bat over her shoulder, studying the office decor with interest.

Roman Sionis's throat went dry. His body trembled beyond his control.

He tried to find some trace of emotion in the man—anger, perhaps, or greed.

But he saw nothing.

Only a bottomless calm, colder and emptier than the black skull mask he wore.

"What... what do you want?" Roman's voice was hoarse and shaking. "Money? You can have every dollar in my vault! Women? I can get you the hottest girls in Gotham! Whatever you want, it's yours!"

He struggled out of his chair and all but fell to his knees before Link.

"I... I can work for you! Whatever Falcone and Maroni can give you, I'll double it! I can be your most loyal dog in the East End!"

Link gently swirled his glass, sending the amber whiskey tracing a graceful arc along its sides.

At last, he spoke. His voice was soft.

"I don't need a dog."

He bent down and looked straight into Roman's fear-widened eyes.

"What's the point of someone like you? You torture people for the sake of torture. You create chaos for the sake of chaos. Your very existence is a stain on order."

Roman froze.

Order?

A man who had just slaughtered everyone downstairs was talking to him about order?

"Madman... You're a madman!" Roman shrieked in despair.

"No." Link shook his head and smiled gently. "I'm not a madman. I'm just... a Cleaner."

He set down his glass and looked around.

His gaze finally settled on an Acetylene Torch used for welding metal in the corner.

Roman followed his gaze, and his pupils shrank to pinpoints.

He understood.

At last, he understood what the man intended to do!

"No... Don't!"

He writhed backward across the floor like a maggot. Warmth soaked through the crotch of his pants, followed by a foul smell.

Link ignored his cries. He picked up the torch and deftly opened the valve.

Hiss—

A blue flame cast an eerie light through the dark office.

"No! Please! Kill me! Just kill me!"

Roman broke completely. He would rather die than endure that pain.

Link walked up to him and crouched.

"Kill you? That would be too easy."

His voice was a devil's whisper.

"I'm going to make you a symbol. A warning that gives anyone who thinks of causing trouble on my turf nightmares."

"You like that mask, don't you?"

"From today on, it's your face."

As Roman Sionis screamed his lungs out, Link brought the blue flame to the black skull mask on his face.

The stench of burning flesh instantly filled the room.

Harley gave an excited whistle from the doorway and raised her phone to record the gruesome spectacle.

A few minutes later.

Link tossed aside the torch and walked out of the office.

Behind him, he left a monster twitching on the floor, making sounds no longer recognizably human, its face and mask fused into one.

Downstairs, Iron Spike and the others held dozens of surviving thugs and several minor bosses at gunpoint. The captives knelt on the floor, trembling.

Iron Spike and the others had arrived after receiving word.

The moment they saw the state of the main workshop, any thought of resistance vanished.

When Link came downstairs without a scratch, every captive lowered his head further.

A man who looked like the second-in-command worked up his courage and looked up. "You killed our boss. The boys won't—"

Before he could finish, Link vanished from in front of him.

An instant later, Link appeared behind him and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

An irresistible force seized the man. He flew into the air, and Link swung him like a weapon into two other bosses who had tried to resist.

Bang!

The three tumbled together like bowling pins. The sound of breaking bones rang clear.

Link brushed nonexistent dust from his hands and stepped before them all.

"Now, does anyone else have an objection?"

The workshop fell silent.

Link smiled, took out his phone, and projected the video Harley had just recorded onto the workshop's large screen.

The sight of the hideous black mask fused to bloodied flesh hit them harder than any words could.

People began vomiting, one after another.

"From today on, Sionis Steel Mill and all of Black Mask's territory and businesses belong to me."

"You have two choices."

"First, follow my rules and work for me. You'll make ten times what you used to and live with more dignity."

"Second," Link said, sweeping his gaze over them, "you can become an offering to my New Order, just like him."

"I... I pledge my loyalty!"

One thug could no longer bear the pressure. He was the first to kneel and shout.

Once one did, a second followed. Then a third...

Soon, everyone was on their knees, swearing loyalty to their new master.

Link stood before the crowd, looking down at the criminals who had submitted to him.

Beyond him stretched Gotham's vast East End, a land rife with crime and opportunity.

He knew that from this moment on, he was no longer a fugitive struggling to survive.

He had become a major player on Gotham's chessboard.

A rising king of the underworld.