After everyone else had left, Falcone set his glass down and sat in contemplative silence.
Beside him, Victor leaned in and whispered, "Boss Falcone, should I make some preparations?"
"Preparations?" Falcone chuckled softly.
"Our preparations could never outmatch theirs, Victor.
Forget it.
How long has it been since we last heard from them?
Fifteen years.
Time flies too damn fast.
Let me think quietly for a while.
These are truly troubled times."
He leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes.
Victor straightened silently, returning to his post like a javelin planted firmly in the ground.
Outside, a taxi pulled up near the Iceberg Lounge.
Axel stepped out, clad in tattered clothes, carrying a new gun.
He strolled toward the club entrance, surveying the chaos as hundreds fought around him.
The thugs froze when they noticed him.
"Damn, he's really back!"
"Forget that, just get out while you can!"
"Penguin's men are tough, my arm's broken!"
"Even if I escape, the medical bills will be thousands of dollars.
Might as well have died!"
"Keep chasing!
Don't let anyone escape!"
"Stay back from Axel!
Boss Falcone ordered it!"
"Open the club doors for Axel!"
Axel listened and smirked.
Oswald had cleared Sabatino's men and ordered his own to let Axel in.
Satisfaction coursed through him.
"Not bad, Penguin.
Your attitude's improved this time."
Swaggering into the Iceberg Lounge, Axel descended the stairs, where Oswald greeted him with exaggerated enthusiasm.
"Welcome back, my friend!
I came immediately when I heard you returned!"
"Of course I came back.
Revenge waits for no one.
Did you deal with Sabatino's men?"
Axel bent slightly, embracing the exuberant Penguin.
"I keep my promises.
Sabatino's men are gone.
But to take Sabatino himself, you'll have to face Boss Falcone first."
"Which hurdle?" Axel asked casually.
"Boss Falcone is waiting.
He wants to talk to you."
Axel froze for a moment.
"Talk?
I broke into the Iceberg Lounge twice, and I'm here to kill Sabatino, his right-hand man.
Falcone actually wants to talk?
Are you sure it's really him?"
Axel, familiar with comics and movies, knew Falcone didn't show weakness.
Provoking the Falcone Family like this should have ended in a fight to the death.
Before Batman's time, Falcone's authority in Gotham surpassed everyone, even slippery Chichikov.
For such a man to negotiate after his stronghold was assaulted twice by a single intruder…
Axel realized he had underestimated Falcone.
Falcone hadn't acted impulsively.
He suppressed anger, skipped probes, chases, and traps, and came straight to negotiate.
He even restocked his gun shop before arriving.
In this subtle contest of wills, Falcone had just won a round.
Axel nodded in quiet appreciation.
"Falcone is magnanimous.
I understand.
Take me to him."
"Follow me.
Boss Falcone is in Minus Forty-Four Degrees.
If the discussion goes well, you might become a regular there.
Then we'll raise a glass together against Sabatino," Penguin said, leading the way.
Axel eyed the eager Penguin, patting his shoulder suspiciously.
"Buddy, a drink's fine, but is something off?
I just broke your ribs.
You're not planning to drug my drink, are you?"
"How could I?" Penguin exclaimed, grabbing Axel's sleeve.
"Hundreds shot at you and failed.
Poisoning?
That would make no sense.
I'd allow you to break my ribs if you messed up, but I won't underestimate you, Buddy!"
Axel smiled.
"Oswald, I wasn't implying poison.
Honestly, poison can't kill me.
I just feared you'd mix spit and dandruff into my drink."
"Damn it!
That's worse than poison!
That would be true underestimation!
Do you think I'm a fourth-rate villain playing third-rate tricks?"
Oswald's hair practically stood on end.
The reaction wasn't empty posturing.
As a child, Oswald had been short, thin, limping, and mercilessly bullied.
Every cruel trick imaginable had been done to him, leaving deep scars.
Survival meant low-level revenge: spiking water, puncturing condoms, peeing in lockers.
Small cruelties, the only solace he had as a weak child.
Axel paused, then laughed, placing a hand on Oswald's shoulder.
"Embarrassed, aren't you?
I know you thought of those things too.
Evil thoughts live in every heart.
But just thinking is enough—you can't act on them.
Even as Gotham villains, we must be evil classily.
Otherwise, it's just embarrassing, haha!"
Arm in arm like old friends, Axel continued walking.
Oswald's anger, once sharp from painful memories, gradually melted.
He no longer needed low-class tricks—he was a big shot now.
"Don't joke like that," Oswald finally said, pointing to a door ahead.
"Boss Falcone is inside.
I hope your discussion goes well."
____
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