American comic book: After mastering resurrection, I became incredibly popular.

"And Bane, damn Bane!! I didn't sleep all night!"

"Hey! I don't know what grudge you have with Wayne Group, but I don't want to get involved. I'm just a businessman."

"So I used some of my connections. As soon as I learned that you were in the hospital, I rushed over. It's rare for someone to warrant such a big fuss from me."

"Of course, the main reason is that I don't want to worry the police officers. Well... you know, whenever things get a bit turbulent, the GCPD sends a lot of people to keep an eye on us law-abiding citizens."

He kept changing direction as he spoke, as if trying to find the best angle to observe the expression on Wang Baixi's face.

“I have no connection with Wayne Group, at most I’m their client,” Wang Baixi sighed, feigning helplessness. “Mr. Cobb, you went to all this trouble to come to the hospital to see me, just for this?”

"No, no, no!! I have something else to discuss with you!" The penguin tucked his cane under his arm and then pulled a long, thin cigar from the inside pocket of his tuxedo.

However, he did not light it; he simply held it between two fingers.

In his worldview, ordinary people wouldn't go to the hospital morgue unless they wanted to take something from the dead.

Information, organs, or something else.

Therefore, he sensed danger in Wang Baixi.

He continued, “Relax, child. I am a gentleman. I was not convicting you, but merely making a reasonable guess. I do have important business with you.”

What are you trying to say?

"Why don't you get in my car and we can talk?"

After saying this, the penguin made an inviting gesture.

Cassandra, who had been silent all along, finally made a move. She took half a step forward from behind Wang Baixi's right side, slightly blocking half of Wang Baixi's body, and then looked at the Penguin warily.

"Who is this?" The penguin looked Cassandra up and down, then turned to Wang Baixi. "Your girlfriend?"

"Just friends."

“She looks unhappy.” The penguin grinned, revealing a set of uneven, yellow teeth. “But I don’t blame her. Any young woman would be unhappy to see a man like me.”

He smiled at Cassandra: "Relax, little girl, I won't hurt you. If I wanted to resolve things with violence, I wouldn't have to come here myself."

Cassandra, however, did not lower her guard because of these words. She quickly made two gestures in sign language and then looked at Wang Baixi.

"Danger. Don't."

Wang Baixi stared at Cassandra's gestures, completely unable to understand what she was trying to express.

Could it be...

Should I play along with him?

To be fair, Tim knows his exact location. If the Penguin really has any ill intentions, Tim can definitely use the tracking device to find the Penguin's lair.

Just in time, the Penguin himself came to our door. If we can catch him, we might be able to find out what happened in the early hours of the morning.

Cassandra's expression remained serious, but Wang Baixi felt that the two of them were thinking the same thing! Fortunately, with Cassandra as his bodyguard, he felt quite at ease.

However, he couldn't reveal too much in front of the penguin, so he deliberately sighed:

“It’s alright, Cassandra. If Mr. Cobbert needs to speak with me, I might as well do so.”

Yes, yes, that's how you say it!

Cassandra's gaze towards Wang Baixi grew even more serious, but she didn't continue to object; she simply began to gesture silently.

"idiot!"

Wang Baixi vaguely sensed that Cassandra was criticizing him.

Indeed, it was too risky, but his intuition told him that he had to take some risks and take the initiative in order to be truly safe.

Moreover, since the penguin owner personally contacted the supplier, it's difficult for him to simply walk away.

This is Gotham: rather than be tormented and humiliated by madmen, you'd rather be a madman yourself!

So the two followed the penguin out of the hospital.

Midway through, Wang Baixi sent a message to Tim Drake, whose contact name was "AAA Wonder Boy"...

……

The penguin's vehicle was parked at the main entrance of the hospital. It was an extended black sedan, almost the length of a small ambulance, with no markings on the doors.

The interior of the vehicle has been transformed into a living room-style layout, with two rows of leather sofas placed facing each other, separated by a low table fixed to the bottom of the vehicle. On the low table sits an unopened bottle of Scotch whisky, two crystal glasses, and an empty birdcage.

They climbed into the carriage first, while Penguin was the last to enter. He casually hung his top hat on the hook next to the door and then sat down on the sofa opposite Wang Baixi.

After the doors closed, ambient lighting illuminated the interior.

"Now, we can have a proper talk."

Penguin took a photo out of the inner pocket of his tuxedo, placed it on the low table, and pushed it in front of Wang Baixi.

The photo shows a tall, blond man with features that could barely be described as handsome. A reddish-brown falcon perches on his shoulder, its eyes filled with indifference.

Have you seen this person before?

"Never seen him before, who is he?"

“I don’t know either.” The Penguin put a cigar in his mouth, took out a lighter and lit it. “All I know is that his name is ‘Bird,’ and he’s one of Bane’s men. That falcon is his pet and weapon. Someone saw him near the rooftop when the fall happened. That person most likely knows from which angle my man was thrown off, and who carved those words.”

"Is it possible that he's the one who lost it?"

At that moment, the penguin seemed to have a sudden realization, "Oh right, right, right! It's entirely possible!"

"No matter what, I've never seen this person before," Wang Baixi said speechlessly. "Do you think I'm in cahoots with him?"

"We can't rule out that possibility, after all, you just happened to be at the scene of the body disposal and you just happened to be staying at the Wayne Hotel."

“Mr. Cobblestone, I’m sorry your man died, but I really can’t help you find the killer. I’m just an ordinary passerby.”

The Penguin's smile vanished. "Regret? No, no, no one cares about that Ogilvy guy. I knew he wanted to usurp the throne a long time ago. He's not even worth me going to the police station to claim his body. What I'm angry about is something else."

He slammed his hand on the low table. "That bastard killed my pet bird! That stupid bird had been with me for eight years, the only one I never went out of my way to protect. Damn it! I'm not going to let him get away with this."

Wang Baixi blinked. "So you came to the hospital to ambush me because you thought I knew 'Little Bird,' and 'Little Bird' killed your pet bird?"

“That’s right! He had his falcon tear my precious thing in half tonight.”

“Well, I regret that, but I really don’t know Mr. Bird,” Wang Baixi said, pulling his hand away from the low table and leaning back against the sofa. “Mr. Cobblestone, can you let me go?”

The businesslike expression on the penguin's round face vanished instantly, replaced by a chilling smile.

This guy is even crazier than Wang Baixi thought.

If I remember correctly, the penguin can sometimes go on a killing spree because someone doesn't respect him.

"No, child. I know you're not telling me the truth."

“I won’t let go of even the smallest clue. Someone killed my men and then dumped the body right outside your hotel. Do you think it’s all just a coincidence?”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. Besides, you’re the only living person who appeared at the scene where the body was dumped. The police didn’t take any valuable clues, but you did.”

You say you don't know me, so you just don't know me?

Wang Baixi then asked a question that even he himself found excessively calm.

"So you went to all this trouble just to find me? Am I that special?"

“Of course,” Penguin stared into Wang Baixi’s eyes, the lens of his monocle reflecting strangely in the dim light. “No immigration records, no social security number, no tax records, not even a traffic ticket… You’re like you fell from the sky, Mr. Wang. That’s very interesting to me.”

Do people in Gotham like to open people's boxes at the drop of a hat?

“There’s no need for this, sir. I’ll be frank: I’m undocumented. There’s no point in you continuing this charade.” Wang Baixi’s gaze shifted from the penguin’s face to the empty birdcage on the low table, and he changed the subject:

"By the way, your pet bird died, didn't it?"

"I already said that."

"May I see it? Where did you bury it? When did it die?"

What do you want to do?

"What if I could help you?" Wang Baixi gave an awkward smile. "For example, could I help you revive your bird?"

Cassandra turned to look at him and gestured in sign language to warn him, but Wang Baixi just smiled at her and then turned back to look at the Penguin.

The penguin burst into laughter. "You're kidding me, Mr. Wang! Don't say such ridiculous things. I'm not a child anymore. You'll only anger me if you do this."

Wang Baixi didn't laugh. He repeated, "When did your bird die? How many hours ago exactly?"

After a long staring contest, the penguin's laughter finally stopped.

"Two hours ago, I sent it out to investigate the whereabouts of Bain's men, but it was killed by 'Little Bird's' falcon behind a warehouse at Adams Dock."

Two hours? That's just right.

“I can revive it, right now.”

“I can kill you, right now.”

Chapter Twenty-Three: I Hate Apologizing Afterwards

Right now, Tim Drake has three problems to solve.

First, who took Dick Grayson away?

Second, what exactly was the deal between Killer Croc and Penguin?

Third, what role did the Owl Court play in all of this?

He was standing on a concrete platform at an abandoned pumping station, the beam of his flashlight sweeping across the sewage ditch beneath his feet. The Angel of Death had Paul Wally crouch two meters to his right, and together they searched for the killer crocodile.

According to the location information, the killer crocodile is located here.

“I’ve found him, Robin,” the Angel of Death said coldly.

Tim followed his gaze and saw Killer Croc curled up in a puddle of sewage in the corner.

The burly reptile, over two and a half meters long, had curled itself into a ball, its thick tail tightly wrapped around its legs, and the bony spurs on its back drooping down. It looked like an iguana drenched in a downpour.

"What's up with him?"

Did something go wrong when Wang Baixi resurrected him?