Chapter 157: Party and Umbrella (IV)

"What right do you have..." Cobblepot looked at Shiler with a gloomy face, and then suddenly he reacted, cursing with a wrinkled face: "Damn it..."

He turned his head to look at Shiler again, but he didn't see the expression of success on Shiler's face that one would see when a police interrogation succeeded in fishing for information. On the contrary, Shiler was really looking at him with confusion, which made Cobblepot feel a kind of humiliation.

Cobblepot pursed his lips. He stretched his neck, tilted his head, moved his shoulders, and then said, "You first untie the restraints on my arm. This is tying me up a bit uncomfortably..."

He thought Shiler would refuse, but Shiler stood up without much hesitation, walked to his bedside, and untied the restraints on the armrest. Just after untying one hand, Cobblepot couldn't wait to move his arm.

His right hand was tied with a splint. Shiler reminded him, "Because of the delayed treatment, your right-hand fracture has become very serious. If you had delayed it for two more days, there would have been a risk of amputation. So keep it tied for now."

Cobblepot muttered in a low voice, seemingly cursing something. When Shiler's gaze turned over, he suddenly seemed choked and remained silent.

Shiler sat back in his original position, picked up the medical record, and said, "Come on, let's continue to talk about this problem. Judging from the layout of the crime scene, I can feel that you were very hurried. Can you tell me what you encountered?"

Cobblepot wrinkled his nose and pushed his lips upward, which made him look somewhat fierce. He looked like he wanted to refute Shiler's point of view, but he also felt that he shouldn't say so much to a strange psychologist.

"Let me hear your criminal thinking. After all, you went to such great lengths to do so many things. If there were no audience, wouldn't it be too much of a pity?"

Cobblepot's only good arm grabbed the guardrail fiercely. He tilted his head and stared straight at Shiler, saying, "You damn psychologist..."

Cobblepot admitted that this sentence from Shiler was more useful than any interrogation method of the police.

Shiler looked at him with a smile. He knew very well that any criminal who would appear on Cat Getan's big stage in the future was a fundamentalist in the criminal world.

They had their own pride regarding the matter of crime, such as the fineness of the technique, the way the result was presented, the misleading effect on the onlookers, etc. They hoped to achieve perfection in every aspect.

Every criminal plan they implemented would focus on these problems and expect someone to see their genius creativity.

They firmly believed that a crime without an audience was not a perfect crime.

Cobblepot's reason told him that spilling everything at this time was not a good idea. If Shiler really recorded it, he would likely be unable to escape judgment.

But he was just itching to talk. Another voice in his heart told him that Shiler was the same kind of person as him. He would definitely be a good audience, able to understand the exquisite criminal process that ordinary people couldn't understand, and able to understand his uniqueness.

Soon, Cobblepot couldn't help it anymore. He said, "That was an accident. If it weren't for..."

Cobblepot paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts, and then he relaxed his whole body, lay on the bed, stared at the ceiling with both eyes, and began his narration.

"... Meeting the Godfather was completely an accident. My father was once a gang boss with some reputation in the East District. After he died, the territory and property that should have been inherited by me were all divided up by those gang members who were like jackals..."

"To protect me, my mother moved back to the old house near the Slab, but we still couldn't live in peace. My father's former enemies chased and killed us time and time again..."

"It was one night. I was washing dishes in a bar in the East District. When I came out, I was surrounded. They were just about to fire their guns when a car passed by. Sitting inside was His Excellency Falcone. He stopped that group of people and drove them away..."

"The Godfather saved you?"

"That's right. At that time, I was only 12 years old, but I was very thin and weak, looking even smaller. He probably couldn't stand them wanting to shoot and kill a child. In short, at that time, I met the Godfather..."

"I don't know where he saw that I was worth cultivating. I was thin and small, in poor health, not good-looking, and didn't know how to curry favor, but the Godfather still secretly helped me..."

"So, when he needed you, you went to kill for him?"

Cobblepot said expressionlessly, "What's wrong with that? He saved me. I know this doesn't count for anything to him, but killing doesn't count for anything to me either..."

"I have to say, the case of Old Edward, you did it very seasonedly, not like a novice. Can you tell me in detail about that day?"

Cobblepot shook his head and said, "That all relied on the Godfather's prestige. No one dared to run wild on his territory. This isn't something worth praising..."

"Alright, let's get to the point. Everything you did shouldn't be just going with the flow. What exactly do you want to do?"

"I want to get rid of the Godfather's control." Cobblepot said something shocking.

"To be precise, not the Old Godfather..." Cobblepot added, "I am willing to work for Falcone and kill for him, but only for His Excellency Falcone..."

"A while ago, I knew that the Old Godfather wanted to abdicate and wanted to hand over the power in his hands to his son, Little Falcone."

Cobblepot "snorted" and said disdainfully, "But he can't. Little Falcone is completely incomparable to his father. Following him, there will be no future."

"The New Godfather wants to inherit the Old Godfather's position, so naturally, he will inherit his property and connections. This naturally includes me. But I see that Little Falcone is too far behind. I don't want to follow him..."

"Why do you think so?" Shiler asked him.

"Before, he wanted to carry out reforms. The piece of territory the Old Godfather handed to him was made a mess by him."

"He is full of drive but has no goal, his methods are tough but he lacks thinking. Simply put, he is not the material for this."

"So, what did you do?"

"I know, the Old Godfather is not dead yet. Using tough methods to get rid of him is impossible. I will die."

"I have received his favor and have already killed for him. Perhaps it looks like we are even."

"But every Gothamite knows that as long as you have done this kind of thing, you can never go ashore again. Either die or go all the way to the dark."

"But I don't want to be part of the inheritance and then listen to the New Godfather's instructions, or rather, the New Godfather's stupidity will not only harm himself but also harm me. I don't want to die, so I want to leave."

"When the Godfather let me come to the Slab to watch over everyone here, I realized that the opportunity had come..."

"My first target was the Mooney Gang." Cobblepot raised his voice and said, "I have to gain a firm foothold here first and figure out the situation before I can formulate subsequent plans. So I entered the Mooney Gang and listened to Fish's orders. It took me a very short time to figure out everything here."

Cobblepot's words gradually became fluent. When mentioning this aspect, this future Penguin was eloquent.

"When I completed the preliminary survey, the Mooney Gang was no longer a good place to stay because Fish's territory was compressed layer by layer, and the scope of activity began to become very small. I couldn't collect enough information. At this time, I couldn't let the Godfather feel that I wasn't working hard."

"So, I found an opportunity and got on Kevin's line. Yes, it wasn't him who chose me, but I who chose him..."

As Cobblepot continued to narrate, his voice echoed in the ward. His recent life had become a series of dramas, presented before the two.

Accompanied by his words landing, the red curtain was pulled open. Behind it was the narrow corridor of the Slab.

Cobblepot and Kevin stood in the corridor. The short and hunched Cobblepot said fawningly to Kevin, "Mr. Kevin, please do me a favor. You must patronize my business..."

The tall Kevin looked up, took a pack of cigarettes from Cobblepot, opened it to look, and said, "You're the new cigarette seller? I haven't seen you before. You should be one of that crazy woman's people, right?"

"Yes, yes..." Cobblepot nodded impatiently, and then he rubbed his hands with some difficulty and said, "I'm also forced by livelihood. There are too few people buying cigarettes in the South District, otherwise, I wouldn't have risked coming here..."

"How much do you sell for a pack?"

"Seventy cents, sir, just seventy cents."

Kevin raised his eyebrows in surprise and said, "Seventy cents? What's going on? The small cigarette sellers on our side are all ninety cents or a dollar. Why do you sell so cheaply?"

Kevin looked at the pack of cigarettes again and took one out. Cobblepot eagerly leaned over to light it for him and then said, "Actually, I still make a profit. I operate in both the south and north sides. A round trip takes 1 hour and 20 minutes. I can sell about 6 to 7 packs of cigarettes. Even if the profit per pack is only ten cents, I have 13 hours a day to operate, so I can sell on average..."

Kevin took a puff of the cigarette, exhaled smoke, looked Cobblepot up and down, and said, "You can calculate? That's really strange. The little brats I met who sold cigarettes couldn't even calculate the change..."

Cobblepot still nodded and bowed with a smile, inadvertently revealing his experience of having attended school in the southern wealthy district. He kept chatting with Kevin. After smoking two cigarettes, Kevin felt a bit floaty. He pinched the cigarette butt and said, "I think you're not bad. Following that crazy woman Fish won't lead to any good results."

*Da Ming Di Yi Chen*

"Go get me two packs of good cigarettes, and I'll let you work at the shipping port on the 2nd floor. You'll get a three-cent commission for every 10 items. That's much more than selling cigarettes."

Cobblepot showed an overjoyed look. Kevin curled his lips and said, "Like you little brats with weak arms and soft legs, besides running errands to buy newspapers and cigarettes, you can only count numbers..."

"Those little bastards count wrong every day. Their brains aren't as bright as a rusty door bolt, causing me to lose money. Don't you dare slack off..."

Accompanied by the smoke from the cigarette in Kevin's hand gradually drifting away, the curtain slowly closed. Shiler turned to Cobblepot and said, "I can hear that, up to now, you've done quite well."

"Using the advantage of your thin and small body, pretending to be the most common cigarette-selling errand boy in the Slab, inadvertently revealing your ability in calculation, and successfully jumping ship to Kevin's side."

"But this isn't all I want."

The curtain was pulled open again. Paper boxes were stacked higher and higher. Bills flew out of Cobblepot's hands, passing through the narrow corridor of the Slab, passing in front of the shipping port door, on the stairs for transporting goods, and in the back kitchen of the restaurant. A thin and small figure shuttled between them.

The last piece of paper stuck to Cobblepot's face with a *slap*. When he took that piece of paper off with his hand, the eyes revealed reflected the gorgeous neon light of a restaurant sign.

"You shouldn't be lying about this part." Shiler evaluated, "I can tell, you really want to open a restaurant."

Cobblepot, lying on the hospital bed, moved his lips. He was silent for a while, and then said, "That's right, but this isn't what I should consider now."

"What I want to think about now is, as an errand boy, I've reached the end of this path at the bottom. Next, I have to find a way to become management." ===== CHAPTER 158 =====