Disaster

June 5th, 2010

The Comfort Zone Warehouse, East End, Gotham City.

11:34 PM

A wide, triumphant smile adorned Mosaic's lips as he swept up all the poker chips on the table, reveling in his victory. The other players, engulfed in frustration, couldn't help but utter a string of curses at their own failures.

"This, my friends, is what you call winning the jackpot," Mosaic declared with a hearty laugh. This poker game was not a casual affair; it was a high-stakes game for the four of Penguin's goons playing with him.

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as the defeated players begrudgingly pulled out bundles of cash from their pockets, obediently surrendering their losses. It was a scene that pleased him immensely, not because of the amount of money involved, but rather the satisfaction of emerging victorious and witnessing the consequences of others' foolish choices.

A triumphant smirk adorned his face as he proceeded to count the prize money, meticulously stacking the bills before him. The total amounted to approximately $7,500 US dollars—a sum that held little significance to Mosaic compared to the taste of triumph and the sight of others gambling away their hard-earned earnings.

Mister Mosaic isn't an ordinary man as he's a prominent businessman known in the criminal underworld for his dealings with the notorious Penguin. Surrounding him were Penguin's goons, assigned to safeguard the businesses he operated.

One of his ventures, "The Comfort Zone," specialized in crafting fine furniture, a facade that masked the dark underbelly of his activities. Hidden within the furniture of the warehouse where they played, drugs were stored, a part of the illicit trade orchestrated by the Penguin himself.

Mister Mosaic, despite the disfigurement that marked his face and hands with pink growths, exuded an undeniable aura of arrogance and power. Standing at five foot seven inches tall and weighing 208 pounds (94 kilograms), it wasn't his physical stature or appearance that commanded attention and respect. Rather, it was the combination of his unwavering status as a trusted associate of the notorious Penguin and his immense wealth that contributed to his commanding presence.

As the other players rose from the poker table, they dispersed to resume their assigned tasks, leaving Mister Mosaic to make his way toward his office. Passing by the two vigilant guards stationed outside the door, he entered the room.

Inside, his eyes fell upon the wine cabinet situated on the opposite side of the office. With a deliberate motion, he reached for a bottle of wine from the 1970s era, a testament to his refined tastes. Pouring a small cup, he savored the rich aroma before proceeding to his designated seat.

Positioned before him was a secure computer, a hub that allowed him to oversee and manage his extensive network of businesses from a remote location. It was through this technological conduit that he exerted his influence and maintained control over the intricate web he had woven.

Additionally, Mosaic's office was meticulously crafted to create an environment of tranquility and seclusion. Every aspect of its design aimed to ensure that external sounds would not penetrate its walls, allowing Mosaic to find respite and focus within.

The walls of the office were constructed using specialized soundproofing materials that absorbed and dampened any noise that attempted to permeate the space. Multiple layers of insulation were carefully integrated, minimizing sound transmission and creating a shield against external disturbances.

Mister Mosaic's true purpose in the warehouse was clear: today marked the day when his company would deliver their "furniture" to their eager "consumers." It was a carefully orchestrated operation, one that required his astute supervision to ensure a smooth and profitable transaction.

As the hour passed without the arrival of the Penguin's lieutenant, the one whom he usually dealt with on behalf of his boss, Mister Mosaic's impatience grew into a mix of anger and confusion. This was not the first time he had negotiated his payment with the Penguin for concealing the drugs, and punctuality had always been of utmost importance.

His scowl deepened as he muttered to himself, "Where the fuck is he? I better be payed for this waste of time." Frustrated and eager to resolve the situation, he opened up his computer, launching a specialized communication software designed exclusively for his interactions with the Penguin and his lieutenant.

The secure software provided a direct channel for their communication, ensuring their discussions remained confidential and inaccessible to prying eyes. Mister Mosaic's fingers danced across the keyboard as he initiated contact, his irritation fueling his urgency to address the delay and seek the compensation he deemed necessary.

With each passing second, his frustration mounted, his eyes fixated on the screen, waiting for the lieutenant's response. The negotiation was crucial, not only for the financial gain it promised but also for the maintenance of their alliance. Mister Mosaic understood that in this world of shadows and secrets, keeping the Penguin's trust was essential to his own survival and prosperity.

As ten minutes passed without a response, Mosaic's anger reached its boiling point. Frustrated and determined to find answers, he rose from his chair and stomped towards the office doors, confident that at least one of the muscle-headed guards stationed outside would have information to share.

However, upon exiting the office, his scowl deepened into a mix of anger and disbelief. The two guards who were meant to be standing watch were nowhere to be found. Mosaic's irritation grew, and he muttered under his breath, "Great, first the Penguin's man is late, now these assholes are slacking off."

With a tense stride, he made his way towards the middle of the warehouse, where the rest area was set up—the same place where he had hosted the poker game. But as he arrived, his steps faltered, and his expression transformed into one of shock.

Before him lay the unconscious bodies of the Penguin's men, scattered on the ground. Some still clung to their weapons, while others lay discarded, their presence emphasizing the severity of the situation. The area was in disarray, with tables overturned and beer bottles strewn about, creating a scene of chaos and violence.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence from behind him, sending a chill down his spine. "Would you look at that, I missed one," the voice sneered. Mister Mosaic's heart skipped a beat as he slowly turned around.

Pain seared through Mister Mosaic's nether regions as he doubled over, clutching tightly in agony. The blow to his face delivered the finishing blow, sending him sprawling to the ground. The impact was amplified by his weight, intensifying the pain that coursed through his body.

As his mind clouded with a haze of agony, he slowly opened his eyes, only to find darkness encroaching upon the corners of his vision. Through the dimness, a hauntingly white face materialized before him. Its mouth curled into a malicious smirk, while its eyes manifested as two eerie white dots piercing through the shadows.

The last vestiges of consciousness slipped away as Mister Mosaic heard a voice pierce through the haze, "You should lose some weight, fatty." Those mocking words lingered in the air as he succumbed to the darkness, surrendering to the void of unconsciousness.

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June 5th, 2010

The Comfort Zone Warehouse, East End, Gotham City.

12:50 PM

Disgust formed on Andrew's face as he looked down at the man he had just knocked down. Andrew prided himself on not judging people based on their appearances, but in this instance, the expensive purple attire and the stench of alcohol emanating from the man only reinforced his initial impression. This individual embodied the qualities of greed and gluttony, traits that Andrew found repulsive.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Andrew took in his surroundings. He had ended up in this place thanks to the phone he had acquired from the thug who attempted to mug him back at the park. With the aid of the phone's facial recognition feature, he gained access to its contents.

Among the messages on the phone, Andrew noticed one that caught his attention. A message, presumably his buddy, informing him about heading to the warehouse for a new job as a guard.

After arriving at the warehouse 30 minutes earlier and stealthily incapacitating the guards, Andrew found himself taken aback by the sound of the open warehouse doors.

Unfortunately, he was spotted.

A fierce shootout ensued. In the midst of the chaos, Andrew couldn't help but resent the media and entertainment industry for falsely portraying gunshots as less deafening than they actually were. The reality hit him hard—the sound was much louder than he had anticipated.

Fortunately, relying on his speed and agility, Andrew outmaneuvered his adversaries, taking them down one by one without sustaining any injuries. While Black Sperm might possess the strength to withstand bullets, Andrew wasn't willing to risk his own safety and relied on his quick reflexes to dodge the onslaught.

Just as Andrew finished moving the bodies to the rest area, he heard footsteps drawing nearer. Determined not to be caught off guard again, he swiftly leaped up and used his shapeshifting abilities to cling to the ceiling, blending into the shadows above.

From his vantage point, he observed a man in a purple business suit approaching. Andrew's instincts told him that this person was likely the one who ran the warehouse and held authority over its operations. A kick to the nether region was all it took to incapacitate the man.

and that's how he got here in the first place.

before he could investigate, he heard the sound of sirens outside of the warehouse, Andrew's frustration mounted. It seemed that someone had reported the gunshot, and the arrival of the GCPD police cruisers was imminent. Time was of the essence, and Andrew swiftly assessed his options.

seeing the familiar red and blue lights just outside the warehouse doors, he decided to create an escape route rather than finding one. With agility and strength, he leaped onto one of the sturdy metal shelves, his hands enlarging as he exerted force, hitting the rusted roof of the warehouse. The sound of metal deforming and Andrew's hand colliding with it echoed through the place.

Determined, he continued striking the shelf, each hit creating a dent and eventually forming a hole. Once the opening was large enough, Andrew propelled himself upward, shapeshifting his body to fit through the gap.

As he sprinted across the expansive rooftop of the warehouse, his senses heightened with the urgency of the situation. The need to find a path to safety consumed his every thought, for he knew all too well the consequences of being spotted by the authorities. Uncertainty shrouded the intentions of the police, leaving him wary of their potential hostility. In this perilous moment, caution prevailed over recklessness, as he understood the importance of prioritizing his own well-being.

Once he reached a considerable distance from the warehouse, he sought refuge on a neighboring rooftop. Sitting in solitude, he chastised himself for the lapse in his vigilance. Overconfidence could have easily led him into a disastrous outcome, had he not swiftly regained his composure.

Reflecting on the encounter, he berated himself for not being more discreet, aware that revealing his identity could invite unwanted attention. While he knew that the revelation of his true self was inevitable, the abruptness with which it occurred caught him off guard, serving as a reminder of the ever-present risks that accompanied his chosen path.

Unbeknownst to him, an archer was lurking within the confines of the warehouse at that time, silently observing the intense shootout that unfolded before their eyes.

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(A/N)

I regret to inform you that there will be no chapter updates for the 24th and 25th of June, as I will be traveling abroad to visit my father and friends. However, I assure you that I am fully committed to continuing the story for your enjoyment upon my return.

Furthermore, I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude for the overwhelming support this fanfiction has received. It fills me with joy to know that we are approaching the remarkable milestone of 100K views. Your enthusiasm and encouragement are greatly appreciated, and they motivate me to deliver the best possible storytelling experience. Thank you for being a part of this incredible journey.

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