"What is that thing?!"
John Spaletta, his face grim from the kicked-up dust, stared in shock at Black Gold, which was barreling into the bar like a tank.
"Maybe it's after the goods we transported last time."
"But that stuff isn't with us! We just helped out! It's the other big shots who want that stuff!"
John Spaletta exclaimed, annoyed.
"Talking won't help. Let's see if we can deal with this strange thing first."
Old Spaletta pulled out a mirror, observing Black Gold's position through its reflection. With his other hand, he pulled out a grenade, biting off the pin, and after waiting three or four seconds, he threw it.
*BOOM!*
The grenade exploded in mid-air near Black Gold, making it stagger.
The next second, a rotating gun barrel extended from Black Gold's shoulder, sweeping wildly in the direction the grenade had come from.
"What the hell is this monster?!"
Simmons Spaletta was greatly astonished, then quickly reached out and grabbed his son's arm.
"Have our men hold them off here! We're leaving first! The secret passage is in the restroom!"
In just twenty or thirty seconds, their men were routed by Black Gold.
The father and son hurried away. They hadn't gone far when a dark figure dropped from the ceiling.
Qingshui landed, immediately tackling John Spaletta, pinning his hands with his calf to prevent him from resisting. He pulled out a pistol with his left hand, pointing it directly at Simmons Spaletta's forehead.
With a gentle tug of his right hand, heavy footsteps sounded. Black Gold, stained with blood, dragged a man in a suit and raised its arm.
Pneumatic Fist activated, and the suited man's entire body was slammed into the wall, turning into a puddle of flesh.
"We surrender..."
Simone raised his hands to the man in front of him.
"A very sensible choice."
Qingshui tilted his head. Aman and Blondie, who were nearby, immediately pulled off their belts and tied up Simone and John.
"Accountant, Aman, you two handle the cleanup. Anthony, Jackson, take them to the second floor. I'll interrogate them myself."
"Understood, boss. I'll find all the money they've hidden here."
Accountant pushed up his glasses, a sinister smile on his face.
"Don't worry, boss. If anyone dares to cause trouble, I'll send them to meet God!"
Aman, carrying a rifle, had a cruel smile on his blood-stained face.
The Spaletta father and son were escorted by two subordinates to a private room on the second floor.
"Kneel!"
Anthony and Jackson simultaneously kicked the Spaletta father and son's shins, forcing them to their knees in front of the table.
Qingshui swaggered over to the sofa, picked up a small knife from beside the fruit plate, weighing it a few times. Then, with nimble and swift fingers, he cut the apple in the fruit plate into neat pieces.
Although the Ninja Academy only taught basic cold weapon usage, it looked quite intimidating with Chakra enhancing the body.
"My knife is fast. While it's not fast enough to cut bullets like those kendo masters, it's more than enough for cutting people. And I also know a bit about human anatomy, so I can cut over a hundred pieces of flesh from a person, making them feel pain without dying or passing out."
"Boss, just ask whatever you want. I've faced enough threats in my life. I just ask that you spare John's life."
Simmons sighed.
"Dad, you..."
"No, no, no..."
Qingshui picked up a paper towel from the table and stuffed it into John Spaletta's mouth.
"You two, take this kid to a private room further away. I want to interrogate you separately. If your answers don't match, it means at least one of you is lying, and then both of you will get to see if my skill can truly cut a hundred pieces of flesh. If both your answers are consistent, then I can agree to your request. How about it?"
A shy smile appeared on Qingshui's face.
He was still a bit unaccustomed to this kind of threatening.
But it didn't matter; he'd get better with more practice.
John Spaletta was dragged by Anthony and Jackson to a private room across the hallway.
"What do you want to know? Just ask."
Simmons closed his eyes.
"Very well. First question, how much total assets does your gang have? And where are they hidden?"
"The ledger is in the office upstairs. There's about 700,000 US dollars in cash. Other properties like shops are also recorded there. There's 200,000 US dollars in the office drawer, another 150,000 is in Gotham Savings and Loan Bank, 100,000 in Wayne Enterprises Private Bank, and the remaining 300,000-plus is in a safe in the supermarket warehouse at 31 Dirk Street."
Compared to the two gang leaders he'd encountered before, Simmons clearly understood the principle of not putting all your eggs in one basket.
"The bank locations and passwords."
"One is on me, and one is on my son. The password is the founding date of the United States."
That would be 840512.
"Did you hijack Penguin's shipment a month ago?"
"We were involved in that operation, but the goods aren't actually with us. The person who wanted them was Mr. Hugo."
"Hugo?"
Qingshui's first thought was Victor Hugo, the famous French literary figure, but he had been dead for over a hundred years.
"Hugo Strange, professor at Gotham State University, chief consultant at Arkham Asylum. He recently became a member of the Gotham City Council."
That name rang a bell, but only from the original body's residual memories.
He had undergone a psychological evaluation by Hugo Strange while incarcerated at Arkham. However, after it was determined he posed less of a threat than other well-known villains, he never saw the scholar again.
"What was the shipment?"
"I don't know. It was in a container. I heard it was a high-tech item, manufactured by Dayton Industries in Metropolis. I don't know its name, what it does, or even what it looks like."
Dayton Industries?
He hadn't heard of them. He could look into it later.
But as long as it didn't interfere with his plans, Qingshui couldn't be bothered with such trivial matters.
Anyway, Batman would handle any trouble.
Calling Jackson to keep an eye on Simone, Qingshui then walked to the room across the hall to interrogate John Spaletta.
Ten minutes later.
"Is that all?"
Qingshui sighed, reluctantly fiddling with the fruit knife in his hand, looking regretful.
Why were these two so cooperative?
Even though he was a villain, keeping his word was actually better than not.
So…
"Anthony, ask if the signal jammer outside has been turned off. If it has, send a message to Penguin. The Spalettas are his."
He had only promised not to kill them. Penguin hadn't made any such promise.
-----------
Machine Translation by: https:// beta.randomtranslator.com/
Read 1111+ original & fanfic translations in English, Español, Português, Deutsch, Français, or Русский at: https:// beta.randomtranslator.com/
Join our Discord: https:// discord.gg/NSWvfN7vua
-----------