You fell for it, idiot!

Royce lowered his head in terror, his Adam's apple bobbing. With Maroni standing so close, the pressure was overwhelming. He could scarcely imagine how Oswald was bearing it. Had he been in Oswald's shoes, he probably would have dropped to his knees in fear.

But Royce had overestimated Oswald. The man was merely hanging on by sheer force of will.

"Boss, I don't know what you're talking about..."

Oswald's cheeks kept twitching as he gave Maroni an utterly ghastly smile.

Bang!

A gunshot suddenly cracked out.

Maroni shot another lieutenant, who managed only a muffled grunt before dying.

Terrified, Oswald dropped to his knees with a thud and began kissing Maroni's shoes over and over.

"Harvey Dent... he... he came to see me a few days ago, but I didn't tell him anything!"

"Really? Well, that's quite a surprise!" Maroni frowned in the shadows. Oswald appeared to have buckled under his intimidation, but he was actually deftly changing the subject.

Trying to fool me with such a pathetic trick? That cowardly Little Penguin has grown up!

Maroni felt the game was getting more interesting.

Bang! Bang!

Two more gunshots rang out, and Falcone's last two moles collapsed into pools of blood.

With that, Maroni's plan to use the "fake Harvey" to weed out his men was all but complete.

Except for the slight figure kneeling before him.

"Little Penguin... no, perhaps I should call you Mr. Oswald." He crouched and lightly tapped Oswald's cheek with the hot gun barrel.

"Please, tell me something I want to hear."

"I..." Oswald shook violently. He seemed to have been frightened to tears. "I... I did have contact with Mr. Falcone. He asked us to secretly gather evidence of your crimes and hand it over to Harvey Dent, but I swear, I never betrayed..."

Before he could finish, Maroni suddenly flew into a rage.

He grabbed Oswald by the collar, hoisted him high, and slammed him to the floor before launching into a merciless series of stomps.

As agonized screams filled the room, the other lieutenants huddled together like frightened birds.

None of them had ever seen Maroni like this. At that moment, the old fox finally shed his splendid fur coat. What they saw beneath it was a huge, scar-covered rat that had crawled out of a filthy gutter in Gotham's Lower District.

Qin Wei gazed at the dark sky through the intensive care unit's window. Lightning streaked across the horizon, and torrential rain descended on Gotham in the dead of night.

Restless and anxious, Qin Wei flipped through the comic again and again.

Faint images had appeared on its pages several times, only to fade away immediately. He guessed Oswald must be facing a grueling ordeal, and that his own survival depended on the choices Oswald made.

"Forget it. What's the point of worrying? I can't help him anyway."

Qin Wei clicked his tongue and stuffed the comic back into his pocket. Rather than worry about Oswald, he might as well worry about Dick.

The boy had just come out of surgery. The doctor had removed the bullet that had torn through his internal organs, but had not managed to pull him entirely back from the brink of death. Whether he survived the night was down to fate.

Qin Wei had barely turned around when he was startled to discover an elderly man standing beside Dick's bed. He had no idea when the man had arrived.

The old man was tall and thin, with features that looked Middle Eastern. Dressed in a black Kung Fu Uniform, his hair and beard graying, he nevertheless stood as straight as a javelin. His hand rested against Dick's forehead, his eyes closed as though sensing something.

"May I ask who you are?" Qin Wei asked cautiously. He had a vague feeling this was no ordinary man.

The old man glanced over at the question. When he saw Qin Wei's face, his pupils trembled slightly.

"You? Your wound has healed?"

A wound? Qin Wei remembered the slash across his abdomen when he first arrived in this world.

He was about to ask another question, but the old man looked away.

"My eyes deceived me. You aren't him. Of course you aren't. How could such a serious wound possibly have healed?"

Another Riddler. Can all you riddlers just get out of Gotham already?

Qin Wei was speechless. First Dr. Hugo, now this old man. They all seemed to know who he was, yet insisted on keeping it to themselves. It was maddening.

"This child will recover. I may come again later."

With that, the old man moved to push the door open, and Qin Wei hurried after him.

But just as his hand was about to touch the man's shoulder, the old man suddenly looked back, his fist shooting toward Qin Wei's abdomen like lightning.

Qin Wei had no time to react, but his body dodged instinctively, twisting at the waist and hips to evade the blow.

The old man's brow twitched. A complicated light flashed through his eyes: shock, delight, and a trace of melancholy and helplessness.

"It seems he succeeded, in another way."

With those words, the old man vanished into the dark corridor, leaving Qin Wei standing there in a daze.

Maroni's usually immaculate slicked-back hair was now a disheveled mess, and the stitching on his vest buttons had torn loose. Gripping Oswald's blood-soaked hair, he brutally shoved the gun barrel into his mouth.

"Fuck you, Oswald! I want to know that man's plan! How did he kill Charlie and frame Dodge? Tell me! Tell me now!"

"Boss..." Blood poured from Oswald's mouth as soon as he opened it. "I... I don't know... I don't know what you're talking about."

At those words, the fire in Maroni's eyes slowly died.

He frowned, his gaze filling with doubt.

Was I really wrong? Was there never any scheme at all? Have I been overthinking everything?

His conviction began to waver. A single look from him was enough to frighten Dodge into falling to his knees and begging for mercy, while Little Penguin was notorious for his cowardice and greed. He did not believe Oswald could keep his mouth shut in the face of both his threats and his inducements.

Have I really been overthinking this?

"Gentlemen, I must admit to a mistake. I wrongly accused Mr. Oswald." He stood, smoothed his hair, and returned the gun to its holster.

"You must be curious about what happened. I'll explain everything shortly. Then you'll understand that the four bastards who died tonight were all men Falcone planted among us to secretly bring us down."

He clapped his hands, and the study doors opened.

Bodyguards filed in and expertly cleared away the bodies, then carried in an enormous black plastic bag.

The moment the bag appeared, an unbearable stench of decay spread through the room.

Maroni would have preferred not to waste so many words. He maintained his rule through violence, but violence did not mean indiscriminate killing. If he offered no explanation, his men would lose heart.

For that reason, he had to give them a justification for what he had done.

Listening to Maroni's endless drivel, Oswald wiped the blood from his face and forced a barely audible sneer from deep in his throat.

You fell for it, idiot!