American comics: Praising the sun, starting from Gotham!

That famous playboy from Gotham, that Batman.

Damn it, he escaped from prison because he got wind of Bruce's departure.

He hadn't even had a chance to breathe a few breaths of free air when he ended up stealing goods meant for the person who was supposed to send him back?

This is like someone painstakingly digging a tunnel to escape from prison, only to find the exit is under the police chief's desk.

"Oh, oh, Mr. Wayne..."

The penguin felt as if he had swallowed a burning piece of charcoal, but under the watchful eyes of dozens of muscular men and the giant carnivorous plant, he unleashed the strongest will to survive he had ever had.

"That's wonderful, absolutely wonderful! Bruce and I have always been partners in spirit. I originally intended to donate this batch of steel anonymously to that... what's-his-name construction site, as a gift to give back to society?"

"Eastern coastal reconstruction".

Hugh kindly reminded him and patted him on the shoulder with such force that it almost turned the penguin back into a real penguin.

"I didn't expect your gang to be so conscientious."

"In that case, if the steel isn't of the correct quality, shouldn't you be responsible for transportation, installation, and after-sales maintenance?"

"certainly."

The penguin gritted his teeth, a testament to the blood and tears shed from the beatings of society.

"Your satisfaction is guaranteed. And if needed, I can even get my useless underlings to help with the bricklaying!"

He doesn't want to do manual labor; he really doesn't.

But he didn't want to see Joestar, who was holding the steel bar, give him some strange smile.

"Well done, Mr. Penguin!"

"Remember your promise. If a piece of sheet metal is missing, I'll tell Joestar to send them to the Iceberg Club for team building."

Shuen looked at Joestar.

Listen, big guy.

Shuen patted Joestar's muscle and pointed at the truck.

"This door is the key to a new world, but it's too heavy for me to carry around all the time. You, with your Crusaders, escort it to this Wayne Manor. You know the address."

"Remember, that is where God rests."

Xiu En looked at the group of musclemen, thought for a moment, and then added a sentence.

"If I see a scratch on the door caused by improper transportation, I'll melt down your precious glowing steel bar and make chopsticks."

"As you will, Lord of Light!"

Joestar trembled with gratitude for the divine message he had received.

"To get through this door, we'll carry it to the holy site, even if we have to use our backs!"

"Uh, no need for that, a truck will do."

But it's clear that Joestar, whose mind is now filled with divine pronouncements, can no longer hear people speaking.

Watching dozens of muscular men shouting embarrassing religious slogans, carrying the several-ton bronze gate and speeding away, even abandoning the poor truck, probably because they thought carrying it made them look more devout.

"Um... Mr. Consultant?"

Oswald Copport stands next to the Lincoln.

My heart is bleeding, but I still have to put on a smile.

"I've already contacted the port manager, and those two... I mean, those three boxes of top-grade steel donated to Mr. Wayne are already on their way. They're being sent directly to the East District construction site."

The Penguin truly lives up to his reputation as a survival expert in a place like Gotham, a place known for its simple and honest people.

After realizing that even the fanatical believers were just porters for this man of light, he decisively ordered an extra box of goods, trying to completely whitewash himself into a concerned citizen.

"A wise choice!"

Now that the goods are on their way, let's go to the site to inspect them.

"Mr. Cobblestone, you come too."

"I need someone with logistics management skills to train those workers."

"It would be my great honor."

When the penguin man, accompanied by a sunflower and a carnivorous plant drooling and shrinking, got into the back seat of the car, he very gentlemanly and swiftly shrank into the passenger seat.

Although the Lincoln was driving fast on its way to the construction site in the East District, the atmosphere inside the car was even more eerie than the freezer at the Iceberg Club.

"I didn't expect that from Bruce, huh?"

The penguin tried to break the silence by looking in the rearview mirror at the glowing man.

"I always thought he was just a rich kid with some family inheritance and a few peculiar hobbies at night. I never imagined he had such a powerful partner as you behind the scenes. It seems Gotham's infrastructure industry is about to see a new monopoly."

In his view, Xiu En's series of methods were exactly the style of a top-level gangster boss.

This isn't building houses; it's clearly redefining spheres of influence on this land.

"Monopoly? That's too vulgar."

Inside the car, one of the tentacles of the black and gold carnivorous plant was curling up the gold-plated car perfume in front of it as a snack.

"We call this resource integration. Gotham has too much garbage, some of which needs to be burned. But good iron needs to be recycled and reused."

"Brilliant!"

The penguin gave a thumbs-up in praise of Xiu En.

When the convoy stopped at the chaotic East District underground mixing area, Penguin finally saw a paradise he had never seen in his career.

When the convoy stopped at the chaotic East District underground mixing area, Penguin finally saw a paradise he had never seen in his career.

He didn't see any cheating or shirking, nor did he see the laziness typical of construction sites.

Led by Bill, a group of thugs who used to only collect protection money are now cleaning up the traces of the previous battle with the same enthusiasm they would have for building a Great Wall in Hell.

The sounds of construction were constant, while old John stood atop the highest point of the ruins, holding a Bible of unknown origin and giving instructions.

"Look, Penguin!"

Xiu En pointed to the bustling scene, even though the air still smelled of sulfur and the devil's quick-drying cement.

"That's efficiency. No guilds, no strikes, just pure labor."

"Incredible!"

The penguin took off his top hat and uttered a heartfelt exclamation from a capitalist.

"Mr. Wayne, are you aware that you manage this place even better than Blackgate Prison?"

Just as the Penguin was considering whether to bring in a few carnivorous plants as supervisors for the Iceberg Club, several heavy trucks carrying steel roared in.

"Boss! The goods have arrived!"

Bill's expression changed, and he pointed to the last truck.

"But something seems off about that container. It's... singing?"

"Sing?"

Xiu En frowned, and the light around him brightened slightly. That familiar, delicious vibration, similar to the one he felt when eating the Penguin's umbrella, came again.

"Coport?"

Shuen turned to look at the penguin who was wiping his sweat.

"If the steel plate you sent me is hiding an opera troupe, you'd better explain yourself now."

"I'm innocent, Mr. Consultant!"

The penguin was also completely bewildered.

"That's just ordinary heavy industrial steel plate."

He suddenly stopped.

That's not an ordinary source of goods; it's the unspeakable container that Black Mask had stored with him a few days ago.

Damn it, which brainless person brought this box of goods over?