American comics: Play as Kizaru and get off work in three seconds

He said slowly: “An opportunity to completely collapse the Falconet family.

Maybe it was a major mistake, maybe it was an irreparable scandal.

In short, we have to wait patiently until that moment comes.

Just like a hunter waiting for the prey to completely enter the center of the trap, only by launching the attack at the most appropriate time can we ensure that there is no risk of failure. "

As night falls, the neon lights of Gotham City begin to flicker, like countless pairs of eyes peering into the darkness.

The lights in the Bamonte restaurant were bright and the place was packed with guests.

This restaurant, run by Sal Maroni's family, is like a shining pearl inlaid in the night of Gotham City, emitting an alluring glow while hiding countless unknown secrets.

The restaurant has a unique architectural style that combines retro and modern elements.

From the outside, its walls are made of dark gray marble, which gleams with a cold luster under the neon lights.

The main gate is made of two heavy copper doors, which are carved with exquisite patterns, as if telling an ancient story.

On both sides of the gate are two huge crystal chandeliers. The light from the chandeliers is refracted through the crystal, emitting colorful light, attracting the attention of passers-by.

As you walk into the restaurant, the air is filled with the aroma of food mixed with the scent of high-end perfume.

The restaurant's hall is spacious and bright, with a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, like stars in the sky falling to the earth.

The tables and chairs are made of expensive mahogany. The cushions on the chairs are soft and comfortable, and are embroidered with exquisite patterns.

The walls of the restaurant are hung with priceless art paintings that complement the restaurant's luxurious atmosphere.

But in the restaurant's kitchen, the scene is quite different.

The steam is like a mysterious veil, covering this busy world.

Busy figures were moving around, the chefs were busy cooking delicious food in front of the stoves, their foreheads were covered with sweat, and their eyes were focused on the dishes in the pot.

The flames on the stove were burning fiercely, making a whooshing sound, as if playing a unique melody for this feast of delicious food.

Behind the hustle and bustle, in an inconspicuous corner, the Penguin, Oswald Cobblepot, was buried in a pile of dirty dishes.

He was short and thin, with a slightly hunched back, like a shrimp with its spine bent by life.

The clothes were worn and dirty, covered with oil stains and detergent foam.

His hair was greasy and messy, with a few strands hanging on his sweaty forehead.

However, there was a gleam in his eyes that was different from that of an ordinary person.

It was a light full of desire and ambition, like a small flame burning in the darkness, weak but beating tenaciously.

His eyes were dark brown, and his pupils seemed to hide countless secrets and dreams.

Oswald muttered to himself, "One day, I will stand at the top of this city and no longer be the lowly dishwasher here."

His voice was low, almost drowned out by the noise in the kitchen, but it was full of firm conviction.

Every word seemed to be squeezed out from the depths of his heart, carrying with him infinite longing for the future.

At this time, the restaurant manager, a rough man named Jack, walked into the kitchen.

He was tall and strong, with well-developed muscles, like a moving mountain.

His face was broad and full of flesh, and his eyes were small and fierce, like two stones hidden in the cracks of his flesh.

His hair was cut very short and his scalp glowed blue under the light.

He walked in an arrogant manner, and every step he took was like stamping his feet heavily on the ground, making a "dong dong" sound. He walked into the kitchen and shouted loudly, and the sound exploded in the small kitchen like thunder: "Hey, Penguin boy! Be quick, there are important people coming tonight, don't cause trouble for me!" His voice was full of impatience and threats.

Oswald looked up with a humble smile on his face.

His smile was a little stiff, as if he was wearing a mask.

There was still some detergent foam on his face, sparkling tiny dots of light under the light.

Although there was humility in his eyes, there was a subtle resentment hidden deep inside.

He said, “Yes, Mr. Jack, I’ll get it done right away.

Don't worry, I will make sure this place is clean enough tonight for you to see your reflection in the mirror."

Jack snorted, a puff of air coming out of his nose like an angry bull.

He turned and left, his huge body looking a little clumsy in the narrow aisle.

His footsteps were still heavy, and every step made the ground around him tremble slightly.

Oswald's eyes followed him for a moment, then quickly returned to the dishes in his hands.

There was a flash of anger in his eyes, but he quickly hid it.

He continued to wash the dishes silently, and his hands moved faster and more forcefully, as if he was venting his dissatisfaction.

Soon, Sal Maroni unexpectedly walked into the kitchen surrounded by several bodyguards.

Sal Maroney was wearing an expensive suit. The fabric was smooth and shiny, and it was obviously a top-notch custom-made suit.

His tie was bright red, like a burning flame, tied around his wide collar.

The leather shoes were polished to a shine, reflecting a dazzling light under the light, as if they could even reflect a person's shadow.

His bodyguards are tall and muscular. They wear black suits and sunglasses and have cold and serious expressions.

They followed Sal Maroni closely, scanning everything around them vigilantly, like a group of vicious dogs guarding their master.

Sal Maroni looked around, his eyes like a sharp sword, sweeping through every corner of the kitchen.

There was a sense of majesty and confidence in his eyes, as if everything here was under his control.

When his eyes caught Oswald, he frowned slightly, as if he had a hint of curiosity about this little man busy in the corner.

He asked, "Hey, boy, what's your name?"

Oswald was surprised and delighted. His already big eyes suddenly widened even wider with an expression of flattery in his eyes.

His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the right words for a moment.

He quickly put down the work in his hands. His hands became wrinkled from being soaked in dishwater for a long time, and there was still some detergent foam left.

He hurriedly wiped his hands on his dirty apron, then said respectfully: "Sir, my name is Oswald Cobblepot, and everyone calls me the Penguin."

There was a hint of nervousness in his voice, but also excitement that was hard to conceal.

He lowered his head slightly, but his eyes secretly glanced upward at Sal, and his body stood straight like a soldier waiting for inspection.

Sal smiled, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, revealing a row of white and neat teeth.
There was a bit of scrutiny in his eyes, and that gaze was like a sharp light, scanning from the top of Oswald's head to his toes, not missing any details.

There was a kind of depth in his eyes that came from having experienced the world, as if he could see through the inner thoughts of this little person in front of him. (End of this chapter)