In Gotham today, the only one who would call Penguin a "little cripple" was probably him.There was no malice in his voice, no real emotion, just the casual remark of someone talking about an unfortunate retive. It was like two old friends having a chat, no filters, no pretensions.

  Gordon furrowed his brows. He didn’t quite understand what Falcone was getting at. The man had kidnapped him with a dozen guns, and now he was just reminiscing?

  Falcone took a sip of his drink, settling back in his chair with a soft sigh."After I came back, I kept an eye on her territory. I have to admit, she’s nowhere near as capable as her mother. As an uncle, I feel ashamed.""Penguin...""Yeah, people remember her as Penguin. She even embraces the name now. But she’s forgotten who she really is. She should be Miss Cobblepot, not defined by that limp." Falcone leaned back, twirling his ring between his fingers.

  "She’s different from you all," Gordon said, lifting his own gss and taking a slow sip. He was facing Falcone now, trying to steady himself, needing to think through what was going on."Yes, that’s why, back then, I let her keep the Cobblepot family’s name and nd. She’s cunning, but useful. I thought she had potential." Falcone chuckled at the memory, his eyes drifting up to the dark ceiling, as though gazing at the sky. "But over the years, she’s lost too much territory. And now, new families are rising. That was her biggest mistake. Look at her—she even let the Yakuza into Gotham."

  "The Yakuza. They came in under the guise of a legitimate business, using investment as their cover. But one day, I’ll make sure they face the consequences," Falcone said.Gordon knew exactly who Falcone meant. The Yakuza had taken over most of Gotham's biker gangs, running underground racing and illegal deals. He just needed evidence, and he was working on it.Falcone nodded, his hand briefly waving at Gordon."Yes, I understand. But this isn't your fight. You’re on the side of w and order. This is a task for Miss Cobblepot. You see, when I left, I made a deal with her. I spared her family’s legacy to have her assist you. She agreed."

  "What...?" Gordon’s face bnched. What was Falcone talking about?"You’re a cop. You can arrest criminals. But when people like the Yakuza slip into Gotham under a wful guise, don’t you find yourself powerless?" Falcone said calmly, as though everything had been pnned. "So, I kept Cobblepot. When darkness came into py and you couldn’t handle it, she would deal with it in her own way. But she... well..."

  Falcone shook his head, smiling at Gordon. His ring tapped softly on the gss as he did."She’s turned everything into a mess. It’s like she’s lost all her nerve. The rise of Bck Mask and Silence I can tolerate, the Sienis family and the Elliots are old Gotham blood. Even if their heirs are a bit... crazy," Falcone muttered, his voice low but heavy, exuding power. "But the Red Hood, Two-Face’s girl, the Mud-Face gang, and countless others? What are they? No honor, no discipline!"

  Even an old lion was still a lion, and Gordon could feel the weight of Falcone’s words, the authority that still radiated from the man.And yet, Falcone wasn’t even angry. He was just speaking his frustration.The new forces, these upstarts, weren’t real businesses. They were just deranged groups doing bck-market deals, with everyone in them off their rocker.They weren’t interested in business. They were in it for the fun.

  Gordon was still processing the shock. It felt like everything in his life was being twisted and bent by the old man before him. He needed time to figure out what Falcone’s true goal was.Falcone studied him for a moment, then spoke again."You’ve got to be kidding me. Cobblepot only runs some goods through her territory, just weapons deals. Why do you keep stomping on her turf? Has she caused you trouble? Has she ever threatened Gotham’s safety?"

  The weapons trade was technically legal under Amazonian rule. As far as they were concerned, weapons were just tools. What mattered were the warriors who wielded them. So long as the weapon’s origins and destination were reported, anyone could sell them.A coward with a gun could never beat a warrior with a stick, so selling weapons was practically like selling firewood. The Amazonian Council ruled the world, with their millions of the strongest warriors on the pnet, many of whom had divine powers. What was there to worry about?

  But Penguin’s operation was different. She was dealing in weapons on a massive scale, and never reported her stock.Was it illegal? Not really, not by much. All she needed to do was fill out some paperwork, pay a tax, and it’d be fine. But it wasn’t exactly legal either, not without those formalities.Right now, she was more of a "gray" figure in Gotham’s underworld, a boss operating in the blurred zone, where things were always ambiguous.

  The problem was, as the st surviving member of the Cobblepot family, she was tied to the ancient blood feuds of Gotham's big families, and she had a score to settle with the Brice family. Batgirl had been watching her closely. Penguin could get away with selling illegal weapons, but if she skipped taxes on a single shipment of fish, Batgirl would make sure Gordon had the tip-off.

  Gordon was an honest man, and with the constant flow of evidence coming from Brice, it was only natural that his biggest target was Penguin’s turf.Despite her small stature and awkward walk, Penguin was sharp—ruthlessly so. And without any scruples.Fttery and manipution were her forte. She moved like an old-school mob boss, using modern methods to get things done.She didn’t care for honor, but she remembered the rules.

  Penguin rarely caused Gordon any trouble. Most of the time, she ran her restaurant, and sometimes, when they bumped into each other on the road, she’d invite him to dinner. At a busy intersection, she’d loudly promote her daily specials, raving about how fresh the lobster and salmon were, where they were sourced from.Gordon would roll up his window quickly, blocking her incessant chatter, then drive off. But Penguin didn’t care. The next time they met, she’d just pitch a new dish.

  She had close ties with many of the city's high-ranking officials. The Iceberg Lounge was the go-to spot for Gotham’s elite. Every night, Gotham’s politicians and socialites gathered there, and Penguin knew how to work the room.It was just like the old days with the big families, and Gordon never liked that vibe.

  "Because she’s breaking the w," Gordon replied, facing Falcone."I know. You’re the kind of guy who can’t stand a speck of dirt," Falcone chuckled, wiping his mouth with a white handkerchief. "But I know, it’s that little Wayne girl, isn’t it? She’s always been bent on taking us down."

  "Because you killed her parents.""Well, it wasn’t just us... The Wayne family was one of the founding families of Gotham. We shared in this city’s glory and riches. She should’ve been a businesswoman, or a crime boss, not... not like this." Falcone’s face showed a hint of guilt. Bruce’s parents were his friends. They used to go to pys together.

  "Become today’s hero?" Gordon raised an eyebrow."Become today’s madwoman?" Falcone’s eyes met his, piercing, as though searching his very soul. "Tell me, Gordon, do you think Brice is still sane? She wears that little animal suit, flies around the city, spreading fear... sending fear to her enemies, only to have it come back to her, doubled. Is that normal?"

  Gordon’s lips parted, but no words came out. It was as if the weight of everything had stolen his voice.