Chapter 383: Allen's Grilled Fish Mastery
Namor burst from the river, a fish over two meters long slung across his back.
Right after, Morgan came charging back, carrying an entire giant tree.
Allen had taken a quick trip back to Arkham Fortress to fetch seasonings and kitchen knives.
While preparations for the grilled fish feast were underway, T'Challa sat by the river, sighing heavily, his heart still burdened with thoughts of his family.
As for his feelings toward Erik, his hatred had significantly faded.
Wisps of smoke curled upward.
The entire fish was skewered over the fire, sizzling as oil dripped and cracked over the flames.
"When can we eat?" Morgan looked as if she couldn't wait a second longer.
"Almost ready," Allen said as he sprinkled spices, intensifying the aroma.
However, Namor seemed deep in thought, clearly in a gloomy mood.
"Pirate King, you don't like picnics or something?" Allen asked casually.
"No."
Namor shook his head and replied frankly, "I'm trying to figure out who was behind the attack."
The list of suspicious parties was too long to draw any real conclusions.
Especially since nuclear weapons were involved, every major nation was under suspicion. There was also the possibility that some villain organization had acquired the warhead through the black market.
So, it was impossible to jump to conclusions.
The truth was, Namor and his people had always lived in isolation. Their only trade outlet was Vibranium, and even that was limited to mutants. They deliberately stayed out of human conflicts.
The reason was simple—human affairs were too complicated, and any involvement might bring ruin to his people.
After years of focused development, Namor's people rarely spoke of reclaiming Atlantis. Their priority was simply building a stable territory.
"Have you considered one crucial clue?" Allen asked.
"What is it?"
Namor was used to Allen's habit of stopping mid-sentence.
"Vibranium."
Allen explained, "Over ten tons of Vibranium ore went missing. If it were taken by some civilian crime group, it would've surfaced on the black market by now. That's where we can start digging."
Of course, investigating the black market wasn't ideal.
Whoever took it might not be selling, and if any nation was involved, it definitely wouldn't go public.
Still, given the current lack of leads, this might be their only breakthrough.
But there was one big problem.
"The black market's huge. Who would we even ask?" Namor said, frustrated.
The black market wasn't tied to any one place. It spanned the globe via smuggling networks. Without connections, finding information would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.
"Watch me."
With that, Allen opened a series of portals one by one.
It was on the sixth attempt that he finally found the people he needed.
"Come join us for dinner," he called out.
On the other side of the portal, the comic relief trio stared in confusion at Allen and the others in the African jungle. Left with no choice, they stepped through awkwardly.
The Joker, Penguin, and Riddler had been too busy campaigning for mayor lately and hadn't hung out with Allen in ages. So when they saw their "boss," they couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable.
Truth be told, the three of them had been trying to clean up their act and enter politics. They had intentionally been keeping their distance from Allen.
"Boss, what's up? We're kinda in the middle of something," Arthur said, smiling bitterly even as his lips involuntarily twitched upward.
That damned laughing disorder of his had always made it hard to live a normal life.
Then again, it was that very disorder that made him so distinct among the villains. His unhinged laughter alone was enough to terrify political opponents.
"Running for mayor is just a side gig. This is the real deal."
Allen slung an arm around Arthur's neck, skewered half a fish head, and held it up to his mouth. "Try a bite of my cooking."
Taking the fish head, Arthur chuckled wryly. "Boss, whatever it is, just say the word. I'd walk through fire if you asked."
"When have I ever sent you guys to your deaths?"
Allen got straight to the point: "Help me investigate the black market for any large-scale Vibranium circulation. If you find anything, track the source."
"Vibranium? What's that—some kind of gold alloy?" Edward asked as he adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses.
"You don't even know Vibranium?!"
Then Allen had a moment of realization. "Right, you guys are from the DC universe. No wonder."
He quickly made introductions all around.
Immediately, the trio's expressions shifted dramatically.
Atlantis and Wakanda—two former kings. That kind of status? Even the U.S. President would have to roll out the red carpet.
No wonder the boss hadn't been including them lately. His new crew was on a whole other level.
"Who's she?" Cobblepot asked, staring at the tall, brawny girl quietly enjoying her grilled fish.
She looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place her.
"You've met her. That's Morgan, Tony's daughter," Allen replied casually.
Hiss…
Boss, you absolute legend.
You bulked up Tony Stark's daughter like that? It's a miracle Iron Man's not already hunting you down.
"How've you three been lately?" Allen asked with some concern.
Edward confidently adjusted his glasses and said, "Pretty great. We pinned a few scandals on Bu—uh, Batman, and set up our own crime-fighting squad. Gotham's citizens are really starting to support us."
"Don't push it too far," Allen warned. "Gotham without the Bat just isn't right."
Yup—boss and Bats really were soulmates. Always had his back.
Not that the trio ever really planned to kill Batman. It wasn't like they could, even if they wanted to.
"I'm thinking of how to get Gotham's current mayor to retire," Arthur admitted.
"Have your brains deteriorated since following me?" Allen said, his tone serious.
"Just offer him ten million in 'retirement compensation.' Then leak a tip about him taking a one-million-dollar bribe. That leaves nine million as a generous sendoff package. After that, stir up public opinion to demand a new election."
"..."
Honestly, why hadn't they thought of something so simple?
Being ex-cons, their instincts always leaned toward making people disappear, and they'd overlooked such effective alternatives.
Once Allen wrapped up his instructions, he sent the three back to Gotham.
As they were digging into the meal again, a Quinjet approached overhead.
"Your Majesty!"
Six female warriors leapt down gracefully and dropped to one knee before T'Challa.
"Okoye, I'm no longer the King of Wakanda," T'Challa said, downcast.
Seeing these loyal warriors, his heart filled with guilt.
Raised and trained by the royal family from a young age, they were unwavering in their loyalty to T'Challa. Now they feared what would happen to them under Erik's rule.
"You'll always be our King."
Okoye pulled out a necklace. "The Queen asked us to deliver this."
It was, of course, the Vibranium necklace that activated his Black Panther armor.
T'Challa stared at it, and a flicker of determination returned to his eyes.
Okoye added, "Her Majesty is fully cooperating from within Wakanda. She understands the plan."
"What plan?" T'Challa was completely baffled.
Okoye looked over at Allen, who was peeling fish skin, and said, "Lord Allen wounded Erik to buy us time, and rescued Your Majesty. It was his signal to the Queen—to stall Wakanda from attacking the sea people and support Your Majesty in reclaiming the throne."
"..."
Was that really the plan?
T'Challa turned to Allen with a questioning look.
"Why are you all staring at me?" Allen asked, pointing to the grilled fish. "Come on—try my cooking."
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