What Bad Thoughts Can Batman Have 45

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## Chapter 45: Transaction

Having sent Scarecrow away, Penguin let out a sigh of relief, collapsing back into his chair. The Joker and Scarecrow, appearing one after another, had left him feeling utterly exhausted.

Back in his office, he picked up his glass of milk, now cold and only a quarter full. He decided to finish it and call it a night.

He raised the glass to his lips.

If anything unexpected were to happen, it would be now.

But nothing did.

Penguin breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled.

Yes, the Joker had barged in earlier, followed by Scarecrow, but surely nobody else would dare interrupt him now, right?

He took a reassuring gulp of the milk, only to be interrupted a second later.

One of his underlings burst into his office, his face contorted with fear, tripping over the plush carpet once again.

“Boss! It’s Bane! Bane is here!”

The milk sprayed out of Penguin’s hooked nose.

Ten minutes later.

Penguin, with a sour expression, walked alongside Bane on the rooftop of the Iceberg Lounge.

“Come with me, Penguin.”

Bane spoke first, his voice like a hole had been ripped through his throat, a disturbing tremor resonating through it, sending shivers down Penguin’s spine.

Strange, this voice sounded like the kind of pathological reaction one would have after inhaling the Joker’s special laughing gas.

Penguin thought to himself, having spent so many years in Gotham, he had grown accustomed to encountering lunatics afflicted by the Joker’s virus on the streets, making him intimately familiar with such symptoms.

“I know Scarecrow was here, right?”

Penguin wanted to lie, but it was pointless.

He wasn’t sure how Bane knew Scarecrow had been there just minutes ago.

So he said, “Yes, he was. As usual, Clein wailed and moaned, acting as if the world was his to rule. Fear mongering is his bread and butter, but he’s also the one who is most easily scared.”

“You have a bone to pick with him, yet you still dance between the two sides, that’s your nature,” Bane replied, his eyes gleaming with a rational light. “Self-interest is the purest motive. I trust him, I rely on him, every city is ruled by self-interest.”

“I’m aware of your family’s history in this city, Cobblepot. I understand how deeply you feel about her brick walls, her mortar, her steel. You are not like the wavering opportunists of Gotham, always trying to win her without sacrifice, only to be defeated in the shadows of the Bat.”

Bane continued, “Like you, I understand the toll it takes. I also know the feeling of being played, of being haunted by a sense of desperation.”

He said, “This city betrayed the men and women who built it. They work hard only to end up dead in the streets. That’s the law of this city, and rightly so.”

His voice drifted in the Gotham night wind.

“It is the unavoidable cost of progress. Old buildings must be demolished for new ones to rise. Death is merely a part of the natural order. Believe me, I just experienced death firsthand.”

Penguin thought to himself, sarcastically, “Bullshit, did you die just now or something?”

Despite this internal thought, Penguin’s eyes still lingered on the green shoots sprouting from Bane’s other half.

These shoots were meant to sprout from a century-old tree, not Bane’s bicep.

“I came to you almost completely unprepared, Bane, because I know, for now, we need each other,” Penguin said, not in the mood to waste time on sentimentality.

“You are used to adapting, Penguin, while I will be unwavering in my commitment.”

Bane placed his large hands on Penguin’s shoulders. He had no doubt that if he wished, these hands could snap Penguin’s neck in an instant.

“You are suspected by both me and those Arkham people.”

“Yes, well, it’s a gift, I believe. There’s no shame in using any means necessary——”

But Penguin noticed that Bane was no longer paying attention to him. He stood at the edge of the rooftop, silently observing the cool city in the evening breeze.

“This place is chaotic yet orderly, organized yet lawless. This constant tug-of-war is the true culprit that has plagued Gotham for decades. It was here before you and me, before Batman.”

“For all these years, Gotham has been rotting in the mud. And Arkham Asylum is the biggest virus center in this city.”

“And we, it’s time to eradicate this festering sore that drains the city’s soul.”

“I will give Gotham what it truly needs, a firm direction.”

“And you, Cobblepot. I need you to provide me with information about Blackgate Penitentiary and to feed me intelligence about Arkham inmates, even recruit them to my cause, when they turn to you for protection.”

“Information and opportunity are your business, and a deceitful smile will be your ruthless weapon.”

Penguin met the towering monster’s gaze without fear. “But I’d rather sit this one out, Bane. I’ve already guessed what you intend to do with Blackgate. That’s why I’m bothering to talk to you.

There’s something there that interests me, something that would only require a simple gesture on your part, once you’re in power.”

Penguin adjusted his hat. “His name is Ignatius Ogilvie.

He was my right-hand man, my Emperor Penguin. I treated him like a son. Hehehe…”

Penguin’s head dipped into a chuckle, but as he looked up, the smile on his face was quickly stripped away, like a puppet whose control had been lost.

“He was the one who tried to take my place.”

“I have a lot to give back to him. He owes me a life… his wasted life. You will bring him to me.”

Bane agreed.

……

……

……

“Bruce, are you really sure about this?” Lucius Fox, the CEO and Chief Technical Officer of Wayne Enterprises, was Batman’s go-to scientist, one of his most trusted allies, and one of the few who knew Batman’s true identity.

“A fully sealed, tempered glass container. Once it’s closed, it can never be opened again. Completely sealed, multiple layers of seals, not even a single molecule of air can escape?”

Lucius kept confirming his request with Bruce Wayne. “Inside, it has high-tech devices that can pulverize a living being into the quark level, enough to kill them instantly, eliminating any possibility of resurrection?”

The scientist couldn’t help but internally criticize, “Who would be able to resurrect after being pulverized into quarks, anyway?”

And do you think quarks are something you can buy at the store like ice cream? Or some new browser?

So he could only scratch his head in frustration. “Quark level is impossible, but it’s no problem to kill the person inside the glass coffin directly. The only problem is…”

“Bruce, are you really prepared to murder someone?”

(End of Chapter)

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