Transaction

After Scarecrow's departure, the Penguin heaved a sigh of relief and slumped back into his chair. The consecutive visits from the Joker and Scarecrow had left him on edge. Back in his office, he picked up his glass of milk. It had gone from warm to cold, and only a quarter remained.

The Penguin decided to finish it before heading home. He raised the glass to his lips. If there was ever a time for an unexpected interruption, it would be now.

But nothing happened. The Penguin exhaled, a small smile gracing his lips. Surely, after the Joker and Scarecrow, no one else would barge in, right?

He took a confident sip of milk. And then, in the next instant.

A henchman stumbled into his office, his face a mask of terror, tripping once again over the pristine carpet. "Boss! It's Bane! Bane is here!" Milk erupted from the Penguin's beak-like nose.

Ten minutes later...

The Penguin, wearing a sour expression, walked alongside Bane on the rooftop of the Iceberg Lounge. "Walk with me, Penguin," Bane commanded, his voice a raspy growl that sent shivers down the Penguin's spine.

It was the distinct sound of someone who had recently inhaled Joker's specialized laughing gas. The Penguin knew it well, having encountered countless victims of the Joker's toxins over the years in Gotham.

"I know Scarecrow paid you a visit, didn't he?" The Penguin considered lying but realized it was pointless. He had no idea how Bane knew about Scarecrow's recent presence.

So, he spoke truthfully. "Yes, he was here. Same old Crane, lamenting as if the world were his. Creating fear is his profession, yet he's the one most afraid."

"You have many complaints about him, yet you still play both sides. That's your nature," Bane replied, his eyes glinting with a surprising rationality.

"Selfishness is the purest motive. I trust him, and I rely on him. Every city is ruled by selfishness."

"I know your family's history in this city, Cobblepot," Bane continued, his voice a gravelly rumble. "I know the depth of your feelings for its bricks, its mortar, its steel. You're not like those fickle, opportunistic Gotham freaks who always want to win it without sacrifice, then slink back into the shadows when Batman returns."

"Like you, I know the struggle of achieving something meaningful. I know the feeling of being used by others, the desperation that gnaws at you like a parasite."

"This city has failed the men and women who built it. They toiled and bled, only to end up dead in the streets. That is the law of this city, and so it shall be."

His voice echoed in the Gotham night air.

"This is the inevitable price of progress. If the old buildings are not demolished, the new ones cannot be built. Death is simply part of nature's law. Believe me, I've recently experienced the subject of death firsthand."

The Penguin thought to himself, You died once? Since when? Despite his skepticism, the Penguin's eyes lingered on the green buds sprouting from Bane's body. These buds should have been growing on a centuries-old tree, not Bane's biceps.

"I came to you unprepared, Bane, because I know we still need each other," the Penguin said, cutting to the chase.

"You're accustomed to changing your mind, Penguin, but I adhere to my principles." Bane placed his massive hands on the Penguin's shoulders. There was no doubt in Cobblepot's mind that those hands could snap his neck in an instant. "You are suspected by both me and the Arkham inmates."

"Yes, well, it's a talent. I believe in doing whatever it takes—"

But Bane was no longer paying attention to him. He stood at the edge of the rooftop, silently observing the city in the cool breeze. "It's both chaotic and orderly, organized and anarchic. The constant struggle between those forces is what has plagued Gotham for decades. It was like this long before you and I, long before Batman."

"For years, Gotham has festered in its own decay. Arkham Asylum is the city's biggest tumor. And it's time we excise this cancer that's draining the city dry. I will give Gotham what it truly needs—a firm direction."

"And you, Cobblepot, I need you to provide me with information on Blackgate Penitentiary. When the Arkham inmates turn to you for refuge, you will give me intelligence, or even join my cause. Intelligence and opportunity are your strengths, and your ruthless tactics will be to smile while hiding the dagger."

The Penguin met Bane's gaze without flinching. "But I prefer to observe, Bane. I have an inkling about your plans for Blackgate, which is why I've entertained your proposal." He adjusted the brim of his hat. "There's something of interest to me there, and with a little effort on your part from your new position of power, you can deliver it."

"His name is Ignatius Ogilvy. My former right-hand man, Emperor Penguin. I treated him like a son. Heh..." The Penguin chuckled, but the smile quickly faded from his face, replaced by a cold, calculated expression.

"He's the one who tried to take my place. I still have a score to settle with him, and he still owes me a life, a life he squandered. Bring him to me."

Bane nodded in agreement.

......

"Bruce, are you absolutely certain about this?" Lucius Fox, president and technical director of Wayne Enterprises, Batman's personal scientist, and one of the few who knew his true identity, asked with concern.

"A completely sealed, tempered glass coffin? Once closed, it can never be opened again? A hermetic seal, multiple layers, not even gas can escape?"

Lucius reiterated Adam's request, his mind reeling. "Equipped with advanced technology capable of reducing a living being to the quark level, instantly killing them and eliminating any chance of resurrection?"

The scientist couldn't help but think, Who could possibly be resurrected after being reduced to quarks? And what does he think quarks are, ice cream flavors?

He scratched his head in frustration. "Quark level is impossible, but there's no problem with ensuring instant death within the coffin. The only question is,"

"Bruce, are you truly prepared to commit murder?"