And just like that, without a second thought, Karl sold out his teammate, the Penguin.
The price he paid was almost insignificant compared to what he stood to gain.
And in a sense, if Carmine Falcone ever came back to life and returned to Gotham City, the first person he would probably seek revenge against wouldn't be the man who had truly brought him down.
It would be the traitor who had "betrayed" him.
After all, traitors were despised everywhere.
"Not a bad choice."
Karl paused before adding another piece of advice.
"By the way, didn't your sister marry into the Viti family in Chicago?"
"It might not be the best option available to you, but it's still a decent one."
"I'm sure they'd be delighted to have a clever old man like you advising them on how to expand their influence in Chicago's underworld."
Karl delivered those words with a completely straight face.
Falcone glanced at him.
He genuinely had no idea how much Karl knew about him.
Falcone had indeed considered going to see his Mafia relatives, but he hadn't expected Karl to see through his intentions immediately.
Meanwhile, across the street, Commissioner Loeb was still immersed in his own little dream world.
Gotham City had already descended into chaos.
Bane and Karl were fighting throughout the city, with both sides tearing into each other.
Yet none of that had disturbed the commissioner very much.
At the very least, it hadn't cost him any sleep.
As far as Loeb was concerned, whenever a problem appeared, he could simply hand it over to Gordon.
If things went well, Loeb could claim the credit.
If things went badly, Gordon could take the blame.
Loeb had been operating that way for years.
As far as he was concerned, it was an excellent system.
Tonight, however, things were slightly different.
A persistent dripping sound came from the kitchen downstairs.
In the silence of the night, every drop sounded painfully loud.
Loeb couldn't get any proper sleep.
"Hm… I could've sworn I shut off the water before going to bed."
Loeb frowned, climbed out of bed, and trudged downstairs.
Still half-asleep, he stumbled toward the kitchen.
Then the sight in front of him instantly woke him up.
A group of men was standing there.
One of them looked like a monster straight out of a horror movie.
Cold reptilian eyes.
Razor-sharp teeth.
It looked as though he could tear Loeb apart at any moment.
"Oh, my God!"
Loeb stared in horror.
Since when did thugs start casually breaking into his house?
He was the Commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department!
Before Loeb could recover from his shock, a short man slowly emerged from among the group.
With a smug expression, he asked:
"So, do you have any peanut butter?"
Loeb frowned in confusion.
He stared at the man for several seconds, unable to figure out what possible response he was supposed to give.
"What?"
The short man seemed to notice Loeb's confusion.
He stepped forward and switched on the kitchen light.
Standing before him was none other than Oswald Cobblepot—the Penguin, owner of Gotham City's Iceberg Lounge.
"I asked if you have any peanut butter!"
Penguin smiled broadly.
"Smooth peanut butter is perfect for a midnight snack."
That smile made Loeb deeply uncomfortable.
For a moment, he wanted to curse them out and order every last one of them to get out of his house.
But another part of his mind immediately warned him that doing so would accomplish absolutely nothing.
If he tried throwing these people out, he would only make himself look ridiculous.
"I came here because there's something I need to ask you."
Penguin remained completely at ease as he spoke.
"After all, when someone has a problem involving the police, you're the one person who can actually help."
Without the slightest urgency, Penguin scooped some peanut butter from Loeb's kitchen and spread it over the canned herring he had brought with him.
Loeb's face turned livid with anger.
He glared at Penguin while desperately trying to stop his voice from trembling.
"Whatever it is you want, don't assume I'll do it!"
"Well said!"
Penguin grinned.
"Exactly what I'd expect from Gotham City's Police Commissioner!"
"With most people, I can find a weakness."
"A beautiful woman, some money—there's always something that'll make them bend."
"But you?"
"You're practically a saint!"
"I can't find a single weakness to grab onto!"
Penguin's grin widened.
"Maybe violence would be easier."
"That might help you develop enough patience to hear what I have to say."
As though responding to the threat hidden in Penguin's words, the heavily built thugs surrounding him immediately stepped forward.
They flexed their muscles, making it very clear that their boss wasn't joking.
Loeb instinctively retreated several steps.
"Wait!"
"There's no need to take things that far!"
"We can negotiate!"
His voice was filled with fear.
Loeb hated having Penguin wave money and influence in his face.
But as long as nobody beat him, almost anything could be discussed.
At the same time, he was strangely embarrassed by Penguin's sarcastic praise.
"No… I'm not… I'm really not…"
Loeb stammered.
"Oh, please, sir. There's no need to be modest!"
Penguin suddenly adopted an extremely serious expression.
"People like you are exceptionally rare."
"But that puts us in a difficult position."
"Maybe the only acceptable solution is to kill you and your driver, then negotiate with whoever replaces you."
"That might be much easier…"
As soon as Penguin finished speaking, Killer Croc produced a human head from somewhere and casually placed it on Loeb's dining table.
Blood was still dripping from it.
Loeb recognized the face immediately.
It belonged to his bodyguard and driver.
Now the man was obviously dead.
His eyes remained wide open, and the expression frozen on his face made it painfully clear how much he had suffered before dying.
At the same time, Penguin's men deliberately drew their handguns.
One after another, they loaded their weapons without the slightest concern.
They looked ready to start shooting at any moment.
"Wait!"
"I've thought about it!"
Loeb shouted in terror.
"Maybe I should hear what you have to say!"
"Maybe I'd even be willing to help!"
"Don't bother."
Penguin looked at him mockingly.
"You don't want to help me."
"I don't care what you want me to do!"
"Just tell me!"
Loeb shouted.
His entire body was trembling, though it was impossible to tell whether it came from rage or fear.
Once Penguin judged that Loeb had been pressured enough, Oswald Cobblepot finally revealed what he wanted.
"I need you to help my good friend Karl get his position back."
"I want him reinstated as Chief of the Arkham District Police Department!"
(End of Chapter)
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