Chapter:32
"Oh, my friend, you've finally stepped out of your little workshop. Is that your weapon? What a beautiful piece of craftsmanship."
The Penguin waddled into the factory, his eyes immediately locking onto the towering Black Gold puppet, its steel frame gleaming under the dim lighting.
"Where's the stuff?"
Hiriito removed his welding mask and glanced at him.
"Boss, everything is outside. Over twenty guns, thousands of bullets, plus blast shields and bulletproof vests!"
His accountant, Dura, quickly reported.
The Penguin smirked, puffing on his cigar as he admired Black Gold.
"Ah, this little gun deal is nothing special. But if you could mass-produce these…"
He gestured toward Black Gold.
"I guarantee you'd become the richest man in Gotham—well, second richest."
Hiriito raised an eyebrow.
"Why second?"
"Because Bruce Wayne exists." The Penguin chuckled, adjusting his monocle.
"No matter what you create, you'll never surpass Wayne Enterprises in wealth."
He took another slow drag from his cigar.
"But, if we partner up—I provide resources and channels, and you provide the technology—then who cares about Batman?"
The Penguin spread his arms.
"Even he can't fight an army of machines."
"Unfortunately," Hiriito replied, stretching out his left hand.
"This machine was built for me alone."
With an unseen chakra thread, he controlled Black Gold, making it stride over, disassemble, and then swiftly reassemble itself around his body within seconds.
The Penguin's smile faltered.
It's not just a suit. It's an extension of him…
"Let's go," Hiriito said, ignoring the Penguin's calculating stare.
Buying ordinary weapons from the Penguin was easy—it just took money.
But for specialized tech, like Quinn Enterprises' advanced sensors, he needed leverage.
The Penguin saw potential in him—a mysterious escapee from Arkham Asylum, capable of standing against Gotham's monsters.
This was a test.
To see if Hiriito could truly be an asset.
And so far…
He had exceeded expectations.
"It's too obvious for you to just leave like this," the Penguin said.
He gestured toward a large truck parked outside.
"I'll sell it to you for a friendly price—just $50,000."
Hiriito narrowed his eyes.
"That's a used truck," he said.
The Penguin grinned.
"It's custom-modified—worth every penny."
"But, let's sweeten the deal…"
The Penguin leaned in.
"I want you to take care of the Sbaleta family on Dirk Street."
Hiriito crossed his arms.
"They robbed a shipment of mine last month," the Penguin continued.
"Of course, they covered their tracks, so I have no proof. But I know it was them."
He took another slow drag.
"Take out Simmons Sbaleta and his son, John Sbaleta. In return, Dirk Street becomes yours."
Hiriito considered it.
"We don't have a reason to target them," he said.
"Find one for us."
The Penguin chuckled.
"That's easy. Just blame them for the death of Chidi Cole, your old boss. That way, you avoid conflict with the Two-Face Gang, too."
He tapped his cigar.
"Sounds reasonable, right?"
Hiriito sighed.
"Fine. But we're not the Cole Gang anymore."
He straightened.
"We're Hogg United now."
The Penguin raised an eyebrow.
"A new name, huh?" He smirked. "Fine. Let's negotiate."
"$50,000 is too much," Hiriito said.
"That truck is used. Even with modifications, it's worth $30,000 max."
The Penguin grinned.
"Deal."
Hiriito: …I should've gone lower.
"I'll pay you $30,000 on credit. I don't have the cash now."
The Penguin chuckled.
"That's fine. The interest rate is low—just 3%."
"3%?" Hiriito frowned. "Per month?"
"Of course," the Penguin smirked.
"Still better than other loan sharks in Gotham. They'd set impossible rates."
He pulled out a calculator.
"You said $1 million at 3%? That's $30,000 a month in interest alone."
Hiriito's eye twitched.
"I'm not borrowing a million."
The Penguin laughed.
"Shame. I'd have milked you dry."
Hiriito shook his head.
"I'll pay you back tomorrow."
The Penguin smiled, tapping his watch.
"That includes one day's interest—$300 extra."
Hiriito clenched his jaw.
This damn money-grubbing bastard.
"The driver is mine," the Penguin said, nodding toward a man by the truck.
"He'll take you to Sbaleta. Try to keep it quiet."
He exhaled a puff of smoke.
"The Gotham PD will look the other way, but let's not attract the Bat."
He turned back with a smirk.
"Oh, and… my driver's salary is $50 an hour."
Hiriito: This guy really charges for everything.
"Let's go!"
"Woohoo!"
"Let's roll!"
"Time to f*ck up those Sbaleta bastards!"
Hogg United cheered, grabbing their new weapons as they climbed onto their motorcycles.
The truck's engine roared to life.
A small army rolled out onto the streets, their motors howling through Gotham's slums.
From the shadows, the Penguin watched.
"Boss, you think they'll win?"
One of the Penguin's men asked.
The crime lord adjusted his monocle, watching the fading tail lights.
"The puppet master is far stronger than we expected."
He took another drag.
"But his gang?"
He scoffed.
"Those idiots couldn't fight their way out of a paper bag."
He leaned on his umbrella, staring into the dark Gotham sky.
"But soon… Gotham's underworld will shift."
His grin widened.
"If we invest now, we'll make a killing."
He checked his watch.
"Time to meet Maroni. Can't waste a single second of profit."
"Yes, Boss."
End of Chapter.
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