Martin Variety in American Comics.

Chapter 7 is so awe-inspiring and intimidating!

When the strong man in the arena was dismembered and the hungry wolves tore the body parts, the blood and flesh splattered everywhere and even flew onto the stands. The whole arena was like a cauldron of boiling hot water.

Everyone in the stands stood up and cheered amid the blood of the dead.

Martin was feeling more and more nauseous, and he wished he could pick up his machine gun and shoot all those bastards around him who were enjoying themselves by taking human lives.

But thinking of the ongoing villain party, he endured it and used the crowd as cover to come to the bottom of the stands where the Penguin's secretary was.

"Yes, Boss, the banquet has been prepared exactly as you ordered, without any mistakes!"

"Let me entertain those people? No, that's no problem at all..."

Martin stood under the stands, listening to the secretary's Spanish-accented English, and confirmed that the banquet had not yet begun.

The female secretary left the arena with the clacking of high heels, and he immediately followed her, but after taking a few steps, he ran into the Penguin's men patrolling the corridor with guns.

Martin stroked his chin and decided not to confront these people head-on.

If it was just a fight, he would certainly not be afraid of the Penguin's men, but as soon as the gunshots rang out, those cunning villains would surely run away without a trace.

There is no way to find out why these criminals, who usually dislike each other, gather on the Penguin's ship.

Martin's eyes turned and fixed his gaze on the pipe under repair. He grabbed the railing, jumped up and climbed into the pipe.

"A ship is not a fortress. Are you building such a wide pipe because you are afraid that infiltrators will have nowhere to hide?"

Martin used his hands and feet to crawl forward along the pipe, staring through the wire mesh of the vent at the secretary whose body parts were shaking with every step, and followed her into the Penguin's office.

The brown-skinned Latino secretary opened Penguin's wine cabinet, took out several bottles of precious wine, looked at the labels, and cursed in a low voice: "What did I do wrong in my previous life that I have to entertain those lunatics today?"

She complained, then made a prayer gesture and said devoutly: "Great Lord, please protect your humble believers and help them get through this difficult time today."

Martin listened to the secretary's prayer and didn't take it seriously.

This secretary from South America was obviously not a true believer. He didn't even have a cross on his body and only recited a few random prayers.

Just taking this opportunity, he threw a micro tracker on the secretary's coat.

After the other party left with the wine, he supported the pipe with his limbs, slid to the vent on the ground, kicked open the iron fence with his foot, and walked into the Penguin's office.

Brown wooden boards, intricately patterned carpets, and artifacts from all over the world emit a strange light under the illumination of crystal chandeliers, adding a lot of style to this cabin under the design of professionals.

But Martin's eyes did not linger on these things, but were looking for the weapons that the Penguin had hidden for self-defense.

The Penguin's men conducted a strict body search on everyone before boarding the ship, so it was impossible to hide weapons on board.

So Martin didn't try to bring weapons on board at the beginning. After all, for a gang like the Penguin who makes a living by smuggling, weapons are the thing that is most in abundance on the ship.

We don’t have guns or cannons, but the enemy will make them for us!
In order to prevent Penguin from using these weapons to harm Gotham people, Martin decided to sacrifice himself and collect all these weapons. But he looked around and found no other automatic weapons except the old World War II guy in the cupboard.

"Look at my pig brain!"

Martin slapped his forehead and said helplessly: "Penguin has that special umbrella that he always carries with him, so he doesn't need any other weapons."

"Forget it, it's just an old World War II guy, let's just make do with it!"

He wrapped his fist with the curtain and smashed the glass of the cupboard, then pulled out a Garand semi-automatic rifle and an M1911 pistol. He checked the guns skillfully, and after making sure there were no problems, he tied the bullet bag around his waist and got into the pipe again.

The structure of the final quotation number was as complicated as the Penguin's heart. There was a risk of getting lost by walking along the corridor, not to mention that Martin was crawling in the pipe in the dark.

Fortunately, his tracker was powerful enough and always reported the location of the female secretary, leading him to the cabin on the bottom floor.

Through the grille of the vent, Martin saw the short and fat penguin man sitting in the main seat, puffing smoke from a cigar, and looking at his guests with his small eyes behind his monocle.

The slightly aged Falconet and Maniro, the prosperous Black Mask and Two-Face, the Riddler and Silence who are trying to take advantage of the situation...

These big guys who controlled a piece of territory in Gotham sat around a long table, looking calm, savoring the aroma of the wine, and were not in a hurry to know the purpose of the Penguin inviting them.

But outside the long table, those criminals who can only rely on themselves, first-rate killers like Deadshot and Deathstroke can still remain calm, but third-rate criminals like Firefly, Mr. Freeze, and Electrocutioner are more impatient than each other.

Martin was very patient, so he just pointed the gun at the Penguin but didn't rush to pull the trigger.

When the big guys finished their round of drinks, they still said nothing. The guys like the electrocutioner and the crocodile man, who had no patience or even brains, slammed the table and jumped out and shouted:
"Hey, Cobblepot, don't you know that damn bat is flying all over Gotham, wishing to swallow us all? If you have something to say, say it now. I don't want to be found by that bat."

When the word Batman was mentioned, the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees instantly. A cold wind blew from somewhere, crawling up everyone's backs and making their skin covered with goose bumps.

The big guys who remained calm even when faced with a catastrophe suddenly lost their composure and could no longer pretend. Their faces turned pale or blue.

Martin hid in the ventilation duct, looking at the Penguin's gloomy face, and almost laughed out loud.

The Penguin gathered these people naturally to subdue them, but even with all the effort he put in, the impact was not as great as that of Batman's name.

This is the deterrent power of Batman. Do you have such a Batman in other cities?
"I asked you to come here just because of Batman!"

The Penguin stood up with a dark face, hit the floor with his umbrella, and shouted loudly in a shrill voice.

"Think about how happy we were 10 years ago. We could do whatever we wanted and no one could stop us. Those soft-hearted police officers could only follow our orders."

"But now everything has changed, all because of that damn Batman, a pervert in tights, we have lost our status."

"There is only one way to bring back the good old days, and that is to kill Batman."

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(End of this chapter)