"I'm just saying—imagine you have a collection of rare wines that I also want to drink. I'll offer a price. Would you be willing to give them to me? I'm willing to pay," Arnold explained, using the metaphor as a test.
The Penguin's expression turned sinister as he stared at Arnold like a hyena hunting its prey. Suddenly, he burst into laughter again. "We're friends, aren't we?"
"We are friends, and we're even friends with mutual interests," Arnold nodded.
The Penguin leaned back against the table, took out a cigar, and lit it. "Since we're friends, what's wrong with giving them to you? Do you want to join the gang? That's not a good path."
"I have no interest in gangsters, but I need gangster assistants. In this world, as long as you have money, white is black and black is white. If you don't have money, you're a bastard; nobody looks up to you. Even those prostitutes down there wouldn't want me!" Arnold howled hoarsely.
The Penguin grinned broadly. "Very good; that's the scoundrel I know. By the way, is my mother alright?"
Arnold's expression turned a bit strange. He couldn't very well tell the Penguin, "Hey buddy, I slept with your mom. She felt so good, and I didn't even wear a condom!" Saying that would mean losing all his friends instantly, and he might even get shot dead.
The Penguin's expression turned grim. "What happened? Has something happened to her?"
The Penguin's most cherished possession was his mother. The reason he could continue living with his beliefs was because of Corina's love and care. Without her, the Penguin might have died long ago.
Arnold shook his head. "She's fine. I just feel like something's wrong with me. Don't be angry; I'm confused. I need your help, Oswald!"
The Penguin waved his hand and offered him a cigarette. "Just call me Penguin. We're friends who've been through thick and thin together. I don't feel comfortable with you calling me by my real name."
"Didn't you say you didn't like me calling you that?" Arnold asked, somewhat surprised, as he lit a cigarette. He wasn't worried about his health; the shop had everything imaginable, even medicine to keep his mind clear forever. Excessive smoking was nothing to him.
The Penguin sneered, "That's because you're my only friend. Enough talk, just say it."
"I like mature women, and Mrs. Corinna is very beautiful. She has a mature, intellectual charm, and I find myself attracted to her. This drinking isn't good for her; sooner or later, her body won't be able to take it!" Arnold said, his eyes somewhat unfocused through the smoke.
The Penguin raised an eyebrow, surprisingly not angry. "My mom also likes it when you visit her. Spend more time with her when you have the chance."
"Hey, that's not what I was talking about. Didn't you understand the point?" Arnold took a swig of red wine and made his meaning clear.
The Penguin flicked his cigarette ash and chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Of course I know. I also know she needs someone to keep her company. I don't trust anyone else. If it were you, I think you would be a good choice."
Now it was Arnold's turn to be confused. "Why? I feel like I'm being tricked."
The Penguin laughed heartily. "It's inconvenient for me to go back because I have many enemies, and I don't want anything to happen to my mother. Secondly, I trust you; you're not the kind of person who does things casually. You've been working with me for so long, and you haven't even sought out a prostitute once, which proves you're not a womanizer. That's enough."
"Alright, thanks for the compliment, you big villain! Let's drink to that!" Arnold picked up his glass. The Penguin laughed and clinked glasses. It was unclear whether Oswald genuinely wanted her to be happy or if he had his own reasons.
Arnold had a vague suspicion about this, but he wasn't sure.
Back at their home in the slums, his mother, Sarah, had already prepared breakfast. Before he knew it, the night had passed. When Arnold opened the door, he smelled the rich aroma of coffee.
Sarah, a fair-skinned woman, turned around. "Arnold's back? Have some breakfast!"
Arnold immediately closed the door, walked over, and hugged his mother. He kissed her red lips, wantonly plundering her mouth. Sarah was surprised, but after a slight struggle, she gave in to her son's desires. She knew that what her son was doing out there was dangerous and took a toll on him. She felt her son needed to release his stress.
Arnold carried his mother back to the bedroom, then pulled down his pants, revealing his thick manhood. "Mom, give me a little oral service; I feel so uncomfortable!"
Sarah hesitated for a moment, her delicate hand grasping him. She was extremely surprised; she worried that if he were to fully penetrate her, it might be too much for her to handle.
While Sarah was still hesitating, Arnold pressed his mother's head down. He watched as her red lips swallowed and released him, immediately filled with a sense of conquest! What could be more exciting than watching a woman older than himself obediently give him oral sex?
If there was such a thing, it was watching this mature woman serve him so faithfully.