Chapter 32: A Deal with the Penguin

"Oh, my friend, you've finally come out of that little rundown base of yours. And is that your weapon? What a magnificent piece of work."

The Penguin walked into the factory, eyes immediately locking onto the towering, steel-tech beauty that was the Black Gold puppet.

"Where's the stuff?"

Shimizu removed his welding mask and looked straight at the Penguin.

"Boss, everything's outside. Over twenty guns, thousands of bullets! We've even got riot shields and bulletproof vests!"

The accountant grinned and bowed, addressing Shimizu.

"Heh, this batch of guns? Just a small deal. But if you could mass-produce this thing, I guarantee you'll become Gotham's top—well, second—richest man."

Penguin rubbed his hands together, chewing on a cigar as he examined Black Gold.

The thing looked like a powerhouse.

"Why second richest?"

Shimizu asked, glancing at Penguin.

"Because Gotham's richest is Bruce Wayne. No way you're out-earning Wayne Enterprises with just this."

Penguin pushed up his glasses.

"So? What do you say—partner up? You bring the tech, and I bring the resources and distribution. Then who cares about Batman? No matter how strong he is, you think he can beat an entire army of these things?"

"Unfortunately, I'm the only one who can operate this thing. Even if I gave you the technology, you'd never get it moving."

Shimizu raised his left hand, manipulating Black Gold with invisible chakra threads. The puppet walked to his side, disassembled, and reassembled over his body in under three seconds.

"Let's go."

The massive black puppet moved with heavy yet swift steps toward the factory gates.

Buying ordinary supplies from Penguin only costs money. But for the rare stuff—like miniaturized high-tech sensors from Queen Industries—money alone wasn't enough.

Luckily, Penguin knew some of Shimizu's background and wanted to test a possible partnership.

Shimizu would spend money to buy weapons and tech through Penguin's network to grow his gang and upgrade his puppets. Meanwhile, Penguin needed an ally—someone strong, not linked to him—who could deal with certain enemies.

This was a test run. A trial to gauge the strength of this new player—one who had supposedly broken out of Arkham Asylum even with Batman and Nightwing around.

So far, Shimizu has exceeded expectations.

"It'd be too obvious to walk straight out like that. I'll sell you the delivery truck we used. Friend discount—only fifty grand."

Penguin chuckled, pointing to a large truck parked on the lot.

"I want you to take care of the Sbarletta family on Dirk Street. Last month, they hijacked one of my shipments. They covered their tracks well, no evidence, but I'm sure it was them. Take out Simmons Sbarletta and his son John Sbarletta, and Dirk Street is yours."

"We have no reason to attack them. Give us one."

Shimizu eyed the truck, then looked back at Penguin.

"That's easy. Just frame them, and say they killed your previous boss, Chidi Cole. That'll keep you out of conflict with Two-Face's gang too, right?"

Penguin puffed on his cigar as he spoke.

"Fine. But we're not the Cole Gang anymore. We're Hogg Union now.

And I don't have fifty grand. This truck's second-hand, even if it's modified. Thirty max. Also—"

"Deal."

Penguin agreed without hesitation.

Shimizu: "…"

Miscalculated. Should've pushed lower.

"I'll owe you the thirty grand for now. No cash on hand."

"No problem. My interest rate's very low—only three percent..."

"Oh, that is low. Maybe I should borrow a million right now…"

"Three percent monthly interest. You just said a million, right?"

Penguin pushed up his glasses, his face lighting up with glee.

"You call that low interest?"

"Of course! I'm one of the most ethical loan sharks in Gotham. Others give you impossible terms. Not me—I ride the limit and squeeze every last drop of value from you. That way, you stay productive and I keep profiting."

Penguin said proudly, pulling a calculator from his coat pocket.

"So, one million borrowed plus thirty thousand for the truck… The monthly interest would be—"

"Never mind. I'm not borrowing. I'll pay you the thirty thousand tomorrow."

"Shame. But by three percent a month, that's 0.1% daily interest. When you pay tomorrow, don't forget the extra."

Shimizu was speechless.

This guy did know how to make money—and, just as he claimed, how to extract every penny.

"The driver's my guy. He'll take you straight to Simmons Sbarletta. Good luck. And keep it quiet. We've got someone in GCPD to cover us, but it's better to stay under the radar. Don't want the Bat brat catching wind. Lastly—"

Penguin took out his cigar and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

"My driver charges fifty bucks an hour. You're covering that too."

This greedy bastard...

"Move out!"

Shimizu walked into the back of the truck and shouted to his crew.

"Woohoo!"

"Let's go, go, go!"

"Time to wreck those bastard sons of—!"

The gangsters whooped, grabbing their newly acquired weapons and jumping onto motorcycles.

The truck's ramp lowered, the roar of engines filled the air, and the whole crew charged onto the street in formation.

"Boss, you think they'll win?"

A man in a suit stood behind Penguin, watching the Hogg Union vanish down the road.

"Shouldn't be a problem. That puppeteer's power is likely way beyond what we'd estimated. Just look at that thing he's wearing. His men, though? Not quite there yet. Don't look like they've seen real blood—probably only good for easy fights and cheering."

Penguin leaned on his umbrella and looked up at the sky.

Night had fallen, and Gotham's sky was heavy and dark.

That darkness was Gotham's true color—the Bat's color.

But…

"The balance of Gotham's underworld might shift soon. Maybe not a full regime change, but with the right investment now, we stand to make a solid profit. I'm confident—no loss here."

Penguin glanced at his watch, then climbed into a nearby luxury sedan.

"Let's go, Bob. Time to talk business with Maroni. Can't waste any money-making minutes."

"Yes, Boss."

(End of Chapter)