Collecting protection money from Batman

"Now this is fun. Seriously fun." Roland had snuck into the newspaper's offices and sent out his Kamaitachi to eavesdrop. "Things are really heating up. People from all Four Families of Gotham City have shown up."

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?" Jason listened to Roland's reports beside him, his scalp prickling. The people currently coming to see Diane Gilden had enough blood on their hands to fill an entire cemetery. If they clashed, Gotham would descend into chaos in an instant.

"What's bad about it? We get a show, Batman won't get baited into a trap, and those Mob guys and criminals get to lead more fulfilling lives," Roland concluded. "That's a solid win-win-win. Wins all around."

"...I seriously question your sanity." Jason thought for a moment. "What if they start fighting?"

"Wouldn't that be perfect? I pit one pack of predators against another to stir up infighting in the Mob, then seize the chance to bring them all to justice. That makes me a model citizen of Gotham," Roland said. "It'd be a disgrace if the Gotham City Police Station didn't give me a medal."

"Fine. Let's just hope we don't get caught in the crossfire."

"I already scoped this place out. Nobody ever comes to the spot we're hiding in," Roland said. "The storeroom door is locked, and there's dust on the handle. I only found the secret passage in here by chance."

"Wait, you said the door was locked?" Something suddenly dawned on Jason. "Doesn't something seem off to you?"

"Like what?"

"What do you think a storeroom is used for when its door stays locked, but there's a secret passage leading inside?"

"You mean... there might be contraband in here?" Roland opened a cardboard box beside him. Inside was a preserved turtle specimen.

"Uh... was I wrong?" Jason paused. "That's a prop, right?"

"No, you actually nailed it." Roland frowned. "That's a giant softshell turtle. It's on the International Union for Conservation of Nature's Red List of Threatened Species."

"You even know that?" Jason looked at Roland in disbelief.

"I quite like watching wildlife documentaries," Roland explained, opening the next box. "Tree kangaroo, markhor horns, axolotl, kakapo... Fuck, is this newspaper fencing goods for poachers on the side?"

"It sounds ridiculous, but for Gotham, that's pretty normal."

"No, I've got to teach them a lesson." The more Roland thought about it, the angrier he got. "I'm an animal conservationist."

"Could they just have bought some models of endangered animals?" Jason pointed out.

"What model looks this realistic? You can tell at a glance these are preserved specimens." Roland tapped the markhor horns. "And look at this bone texture. Does it look fake to you?"

"...Probably real." Jason nodded. "Not that different from the human bones I saw in the sewers last time."

"You really have seen it all," Roland marveled.

"So how are you planning to teach the newspaper a lesson? Call the police to arrest them?" Jason asked. "They're a major taxpayer. The police might show up and arrest you first."

"Of course we can't count on the police. What I was thinking was..." Roland abruptly paused, his expression shifting. "...Looks like I won't have to do anything."

An explosion rang out nearby.

Inside an office at the Gotham Gazette, a grenade exploded, spraying fire and sending a shock wave in every direction.

"Well, damn. They really went at it." Penguin was already downstairs. Looking at the flames above him, he opened his umbrella to shield himself from the shards of glass raining down from the shattered windows.

"Let's go. There's a good show coming, but stand too close to the stage and you might not get the best view." Penguin smiled. "Feasts are soon over, and fine gatherings are hard to come by... I wonder how the curtain will fall on this little Falcone production?"

"You're right, boss," Penguin's bodyguards said. One climbed into the driver's seat of his car while the other opened the door for him.

"What a lively affair. A shame an old friend is missing from an occasion like this." Penguin folded his umbrella and got into the car, then dialed the car phone. "Get people watching the Gotham Gazette office building closely. Starting now, I want a record of every person who walks out of there alive."

"Let's see who he really is!"

"Oh, Bruce. What are you doing here?" Roland looked in confusion at Bruce Wayne, who had smashed the door lock with his elbow and barged inside.

"I'm a shareholder in the Gotham Gazette. I came to inspect operations today." Bruce glanced at Jason and withheld the truth. "Except... I seem to have stumbled into a terrorist attack, so I came in here to hide."

"How about we protect Bruce Wayne and get him out of here? Then we can ask Wayne Enterprises for some protection money..." An idea suddenly struck Jason.

"We collect protection money from him?" Roland's expression turned strange. He had to admit, collecting protection money from Batman in Gotham City was probably an unprecedented idea.

"Ahem. I do need your protection." Bruce cleared his throat and addressed Roland. "As for the fee, I'll pay you the highest bodyguard rate in Gotham City. Fifteen hundred dollars an hour."

"Just say the word, boss! What do you need me to do?" Roland snapped upright and fixed Batman with a burning gaze.

"I can't openly use force here. When I tell you to subdue someone, do it," Bruce instructed Roland quietly.

"Sure." Roland nodded.

"Leave the kid here. Let's go." Batman opened the door. After fighting alongside Roland last time, he had considerable faith in his combat skills.

Of course, Roland's file had also received quite a few updates on countermeasures against him.

They stepped outside to find the hallway in shambles, with debris and scorch marks scattered across the floor.

Sporadic gunfire still came from several offices nearby.

"What a racket..." Roland remarked.

"Keep quiet and be careful," Bruce warned.

"Relax. Have a little faith in my skills." Before he had even finished speaking, Roland darted to the corner ahead and slammed into a gunman, pinning him against the wall.

"Trying to ambush me? I could hear your heartbeat from eight hundred meters away!" Roland brought his arm down on the gunman like an axe, smashing him to the floor.

"I was going to question him." Looking at the gunman, who was now sleeping like a baby, Bruce could only remind Roland, "A little slower next time."

"Yes, boss!" Roland nodded enthusiastically.