"The Penguin's still alive? Lucky bastard."
Black Mask set down the glass of water he had just picked up, his voice full of regret.
The garage owner hurriedly pushed his phone over and offered some comfort. "But he's hurt pretty bad. More people beat him up afterward, and Spider-Man ended up carrying him out."
In the photo, two Spider-Men were carrying a short, fat man swollen almost beyond recognition.
Roman recognized him.
He would have recognized him even burned to ashes, let alone swollen a couple of sizes.
Black Mask picked up his glass again, hiding the corners of his mouth as they rose uncontrollably.
"Tell me everything."
After leaving Blackgate, Killer Croc had gone his own way, so Roman had made a detour to this familiar garage.
The thought of himself sitting here perfectly fine while the Penguin lay in a hospital bed pleased him every way he looked at it.
Sure enough, whenever Cobblepot had bad luck, his own fortunes turned around.
Had he known, he would have beaten him up sooner. Maybe if he had thrashed that damned Penguin earlier, he would have gotten out of prison long ago.
"Where'd they take him?"
"Wayne Hospital. There are plenty of cops, and Spider-Man was the one who saved him. If you're thinking of..."
Roman's mouth flattened again.
"Thinking of what? I'm just checking on an old friend."
The owner looked at him and wisely shut his mouth.
Forget it. The Penguin won't be getting out of bed anytime soon anyway. I've only just gotten out. Why give Batman something to do?
Compared with finishing him off, the news that followed was clearly more interesting.
The Falcone family was keeping a low profile. The old man had yet to recover, and that business with his son had put him