148

Chapter 148: Coffee and Cream

The Godfather's stiff, ashen face twitched involuntarily. He seemed to accept the inevitable outcome and sneered slightly as he spoke, "You've torn apart my home, defeated all my men, and tarnished the Grave family's reputation single-handedly. And now you claim this is for my own good?"

"Um... I only incapacitated them. I didn't intend to take their lives," Diana interjected, explaining her stance. As an Amazon warrior, she considered taking a life—even those of criminals—seriously.

"Is there really a difference?" The Godfather adjusted his attire, attempting to salvage some dignity in defeat. He raised his head and continued, "Madam, while I accept defeat at your hands, it doesn't mean you can insult our intelligence!"

Even now, he struggled to comprehend where he had erred. He had been cautious with these two strangers, not resorting to violence initially and even inviting them for a discussion. Yet, they proved unreasonably hostile.

Reflecting on the encounter, he realized he had unwittingly invited trouble into his home, a miscalculation honed over decades in the ruthless underworld of Gotham.

"The printing press," Diana suddenly interjected.

"What?" The Godfather was taken aback by her abrupt statement.

Diana elaborated, "That printing house is a trap. Someone has set it up. If you continue to involve yourself, you'll attract all sorts of trouble."

The Godfather composed himself quickly. He couldn't dismiss Diana's words outright, "Who set this trap? And how do you know?"

Diana couldn't reveal her source—Black Superman had tipped her off—but she channeled the Riddler's enigmatic style as she replied, "It's not important where I got the information. If you doubt it, send someone to investigate. There will be clues."

The Godfather fell silent, contemplating the chaos in the room caused by their altercation. He then inquired, "And what is your purpose here?"

"Ahem." Diana cleared her throat delicately, then stated, "We require your assistance to print the master copy of our newspaper. We will handle the rest."

The Godfather eyed her suspiciously, "That's all?"

"By pursuing this matter, you risk further endangering the Grave family. Is it worth it?"

His emotions swirled with complex thoughts. Diana found herself surprised that the Godfather's reaction mirrored exactly what Black Superman had predicted. Reciting the lines confidently, she added, "I don't wish to waste time. This is the best course of action."

...

Leaving Grave Manor behind her, Diana felt a mix of emotions. No one dared to impede her departure from the Mafia's stronghold.

Back at the newspaper office, her first query was directed at Peter, "What's happening? Who's targeting those mafias?"

Peter was tinkering with the recently returned coffee machine. Within moments, he brewed two cups and set one before Diana, saying, "Sit down first and taste this."

Diana blinked, catching the inviting aroma of coffee wafting through the air. She had never tasted coffee before, although she knew it was a popular drink in London, admired by many for its fragrant allure.

Once she added cream, she looked forward to sampling this human delicacy.

Cradling the cup in both hands, she gauged its temperature, then blew gently across the surface before taking a tentative sip...

Oh! So bitter!

In an instant, Diana's expression turned dismayed. She recoiled slightly, tongue protruding as she grimaced, then looked up at Peter in surprise, "Why is it so bitter?"

Peter took a slow sip and explained, "That's how coffee is supposed to taste."

Furrowing her brows, Diana muttered, "It's really unpleasant. How can anyone enjoy this?"

Glancing at her, Peter suggested, "If you can't handle the bitterness, you can add milk or sugar. From now on, it's your job."

He finished his coffee and returned to business, "As for the Grave family... their development in Gotham has reached a critical juncture. After decades of establishment, every sector is divvied up among the four major families and various middlemen, and politicians have already carved out their niches."

He continued, noting the exclusivity and conservatism of these groups, "Any new player attempting to enter this space would face a collective backlash. They view these mafias as mere watchdogs guarding their domains, granting them small shares of the spoils."

Peter's observations gradually dawned on Diana. While she understood the dynamics, she detested the underhanded dealings and wanted to protect the vulnerable from oppressive forces.

Yet, as Peter maneuvered through these circles, she realized the limitations of individual power.

Deep in thought, Diana voiced her vexation, "It's so transparent!"

Then she pressed on, "Did you know all this from the beginning? Since the moment you acquired the newspaper?"

Peter met her gaze with a hint of relief, sensing her growth, and playfully retorted, "Guess."

"..."

Annoyed, Diana exhaled deeply, the fluffy cream on her coffee wavering slightly. She sipped again, but the bitterness persisted. Finally relenting, she stood and reached for milk and sugar.

After sweetening her drink to her liking, she relaxed her furrowed brow.

Observing her, Peter smiled knowingly, contemplating the need for a scale someday, and resumed, "Next, there's something else for you to handle."

...