Chapter 26: Collecting Protection Money from Batman

"Exhilarating, simply exhilarating." Roland snuck into the newspaper building, releasing his kamaitachi to eavesdrop on the commotion inside. "It’s heating up. The Four Families of Gotham have all mobilized."

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?" Jason, standing by and listening to Roland’s report, felt a chill crawl up his spine. The people currently hunting for Diane Gildon had enough combined blood on their hands to fill a cemetery. If they clashed, Gotham would descend into chaos instantly.

"What’s not to like? We get a show, Batman won’t be the one being baited anymore, and those gangsters and criminals can lead more fulfilling lives," Roland summarized. "It’s a textbook win-win-win; we’ve basically won it all."

"…I really doubt your mental state is normal," Jason remarked. "What if they start a full-scale riot?"

"That’s perfect. I’ve used the strategy of 'driving the tiger to devour the wolf' to incite a gang war, and I’ll take the opportunity to bring them to justice. I’m practically a model citizen of Gotham," Roland said. "The GCPD would be remiss not to award me a medal."

"Fine, just hope the fallout doesn't reach us."

"I’ve already scouted the area; nobody ever comes to this place where we’re hiding," Roland said. "The door to this warehouse is locked and covered in dust; I only found the secret passage in by chance."

"Wait, you said the door is locked?" Jason suddenly realized something. "Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that?"

"What’s wrong?"

"What do you think a warehouse is used for if the door is usually locked, but there’s a secret passage to get inside?"

"You mean… there might be contraband in here?" Roland pried open a nearby cardboard box, which contained a turtle specimen.

"Uh… did I guess wrong?" Jason blinked. "Is this a prop?"

"No, you were spot on," Roland frowned. "This is a giant softshell turtle, listed on the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species."

"You know that?" Jason looked at Roland, skeptical.

"I actually enjoy watching nature documentaries," Roland explained, opening the next box. "Tree kangaroo, markhor horns, axolotl, kakapo… damn, is this newspaper’s side hustle acting as a fence for poachers?"

"As outrageous as that sounds, it’s actually quite normal for Gotham."

"No way, I have to teach them a lesson." The more Roland thought about it, the angrier he became. "I am an animal rights activist, after all."

"Is it possible they just bought some models of endangered animals?" Jason suggested.

"Who makes models this realistic? You can tell at a glance these are specimens." Roland tapped the markhor horn. "And this bone structure—does this look fake to you?"

"…I suppose it’s real," Jason nodded. "It doesn't look much different from the human bones I saw in the sewers last time."

"You’re far too well-traveled," Roland lamented.

"So how do you plan to teach the newspaper a lesson? By letting the police come and arrest them?" Jason asked. "They’re major taxpayers. The police might just arrest you first."

"Of course I can’t rely on the police. What I’m thinking is…" Roland suddenly paused, his expression shifting. "…Looks like I don’t have to do anything."

An explosion echoed from nearby.

Inside the offices of the *Gotham Gazette*, a grenade detonated, sending flames and shrapnel flying in all directions.

"Well, look at that, they actually started it." The Penguin had already made it downstairs. Watching the flames above, he sighed and opened his umbrella to shield himself from the glass shards raining down from the shattered windows.

"Let’s go. The show is about to start, but being too close to the stage might make it hard to see," the Penguin said with a smile. "Great feasts are easily scattered, and good gatherings are hard to come by… how will this play of the Falcone family end?"

"You’re right, Boss," the Penguin’s bodyguard said, one sliding into the driver’s seat while the other held the door open.

"It’s certainly lively, though it’s a pity an old friend is missing from such an occasion." The Penguin closed his umbrella, sat in the car, and dialed the car phone. "Arrange for people to keep a close eye on that *Gotham Gazette* office building. From this moment on, record every single person who walks out alive."

"I want to see exactly who he really is!"

"Yo, Bruce, what are you doing here?" Roland looked at Bruce Wayne, who had just forced the lock and burst in, feeling a bit confused.

"I’m a shareholder of the *Gotham Gazette*, and I came here today to inspect the operations." Bruce looked at Jason and didn't reveal the truth. "But… it seems I encountered a terrorist attack, so I hid in here."

"How about we protect Bruce Wayne on his way out? We could demand a protection fee from Wayne Enterprises…" Jason suddenly had an idea.

"We charge *him* a protection fee?" Roland’s expression turned strange. It had to be said, charging Batman for protection in Gotham City was an unprecedented notion.

"Cough, I do indeed require your protection," Bruce coughed and said to Roland. "As for the fee, I’ll pay you the highest rate for a bodyguard in Gotham—fifteen hundred dollars an hour."

"Boss, just tell me what you need me to do!" Roland stood at attention, his eyes burning as he looked at Batman.

"It’s not convenient for me to use force here. Whenever I tell you to subdue someone, just do it," Bruce whispered instructions to Roland.

"Got it." Roland nodded.

"Leave the kid here, let’s go." Batman opened the door. After fighting side-by-side with Roland last time, he trusted his combat skills.

Of course, the files on counter-measures against Roland had also been updated quite a bit.

Stepping out of the room, the hallway was already a wreck, littered with debris and scorched marks. Scattered gunfire could still be heard from offices nearby.

"Quite the racket, isn't it…" Roland sighed.

"Don't talk, be careful," Bruce warned.

"Don't worry, you should trust my skills." Before Roland even finished his sentence, he flashed to the corner of the hallway ahead, lunged, and slammed a gunman against the wall.

"Trying to ambush me? I can hear your heartbeat from half a mile away!" Roland delivered a chopping strike to the gunman, his arm descending like an axe to knock him unconscious.

"I actually wanted to ask him some questions." Bruce watched as the gunman drifted into a deep sleep and had to remind Roland, "Next time, take it a bit slower."

"Yes, Boss!" Roland nodded, full of energy.