Penguin Man squinted at him, scanning him from head to toe and asked, "A journalist?"
All the mobsters raised their guns.
Penguin Man gestured his bodyguards to lower their guns, swung his umbrella around, and said, "I don't care who you are, but you dealt with that ferocious crocodile. I thought everyone in Metropolis was a pushover. Come with me."
Without further ado, a group of mobsters surrounded Clark and got him in the car. It wasn't until the car drove out of the neighborhood that Clark realized what was happening.
He wanted to say that he wasn't the so-called crocodile fighter, but he knew that if he did say so, he would have to explain to the mob boss in front of him what he had just seen.
But Clark didn't know how to explain it.
His current feeling was, "Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing here?"
The car smoothly parked on a street in the Red Light District, and Penguin Man sitting in the passenger seat turned around and said to Clark, "Don't get out yet."
After he got out of the car, Clark saw a bunch of mobsters walk out of a nightclub carrying a makeshift fence that was just slightly taller than him, which they extended all the way to the front of the car door.
"Get out," Penguin Man waved his hand and looked around saying, "Don't make a sound and don't step out of the fence."
Clark was a bit confused, unsure why they were doing this but he stepped out of the car anyway.
But at that moment, a shadow suddenly flashed behind one of the fences followed by a thud. One side of the fence was knocked down.
Clark turned his head to see a sturdy crocodile with its mouth wide open, rushing towards the crowd.
The time to uphold justice had arrived. Clark rolled up his sleeves ready to subdue the crocodile but the following second almost every window on the street had a head popping out, and everyone was screaming in his direction.
"Holy Shit! Cobblepot! Where did you find such a great asset?! His pecs are damn enough to explode me!"
"Oswald Cobblepot! You're hogging it again! You've expanded your business to Metropolis without telling your old buddies. Are you still trying to keep us in the dark?!"
"If you don't hand him over to me, I'll go to the Gotham Police Department and have them turn on the Bat Light to catch you!"
Penguin Man's face turned black as a pot, and he roared at them, "Get out!!!"
Clark realized that the crocodile was no longer the main problem. Or rather, was the crocodile ever a problem? This damn Black Boss tricked him into coming here, which must have served some other purpose?
"What are you doing standing there? Catch that crocodile; it's going to be on my dinner table tonight!"
There must have been another purpose.
Clark turned around and walked away. Penguin Man stepped in front of him and said, "Hey, young reporter from Metropolis, I suggest you stay away from the slums..."
Clark, while turning his head back, said: "You know I won't, whatever you're hiding there. I'll reveal everything to the world."
As Clark's figure disappeared into the street, Penguin Man murmured under his breath, "What has the world done wrong?"
Clark flew back to the side of the fence. This time, he chose a different entryway where he discovered the janitor, who had been disguised as a guard, mentioned earlier lying in a garbage can.
Clark pulled him out of the large garbage can and noticed that the scrawny man had a silenced gun tucked into his waist.
The man coughed twice, touched his chest, and then said: "That was close, almost died. So you saved me? Don't worry, your efforts won't be wasted. Do you have any enemies?"
Looking at his scrawny but well-built figure, Clark had a bad feeling, yet he instinctively asked, "Aren't you a cleaner?"
"Seems you're an outsider. Cleaner is a euphemism for contract killer, or you can say, we help you clear anyone who is a bother. Just pay."
"So who are you here to 'clean'?"
"Clearing doesn't only include people. I'm hunting down a bipedal crocodile. Have you seen it?"
"I've seen a four-legged one. There are people who urgently need them cleaned. If you go that way, turn left after this street and walk about 500 meters, someone with an eagle hook nose will hire you."
"You saved me and introduced me to a job. You're really nice."
"I'm afraid that you'll turn into ashes when struck by the Thunder Sprite while hunting down that bipedal crocodile."
After saying goodbye to the cleaner, Clark headed deeper into the slums. By now, his mood had changed from shock and confusion to numbness.
Clark is someone who typically abides by the idea of procedural justice. Although the events he encountered along the way had greatly confused him, his rational sense told him that these people were not committing crimes.
The two men who planned to steal a tricycle probably never actually started since they had a dispute about their loot, stealing a urinal is theft indeed, but considering the witness was the old lady who stuck switchboards in her pants, her testimony might not be effective.
Crocodiles aren't protected animals in New Jersey, so there's no law that says you can't tie a crocodile around your waist. Using a crocodile to bite people could be considered intentional harm and a threat, but it didn't actually bite anyone, so it can't be considered intentional harm.
Based on how the skinny man later picked up the crocodile and ran, he didn't seem to be afraid of the crocodile, so the threat charge didn't hold. So, the old man who put the crocodile on a grill can't be charged for destroying a crime scene either.
Even though the mother later hid drugs, they were then used to fend off invaders. But according to New Jersey law, cocaine isn't included in the articles of the armory law.
Police collusion with mob bosses is worth noting, but the response rate of the local police is significantly faster than most police departments in Metropolis, which could arguably be considered the opposite of dereliction of duty.
As for the cleaner who ended up in the dumpster, the biggest problem he faced was that although he claimed to be a hitman, given that he ended up tangled in a toilet seat in a dumpster almost strangling himself, Clark doubted he would find any useful evidence in his criminal history.
After much thought, Clark decided to visit the welfare institute. He couldn't shake off the thought of the abuses that occurred in Metropolis; he speculated that the conditions of Gotham might be even worse.