"Can you explain this to me, Ogilvy?"
Penguin's voice was calm.
Too calm.
He held the photograph between two fingers, lifting it slowly, as if the image carried no weight at all.
Under that quiet gaze, Ogilvy showed a flicker of surprise—but not a trace of panic.
Only after Penguin pushed the photograph toward him did Ogilvy lean forward and study it carefully. After a moment, he shook his head.
"Boss, I'm certain I've never seen this person before."
The photograph did not show the subordinate Ogilvy had silenced the previous night.
Inside, Ogilvy exhaled in relief.
Damn old Penguin… I almost thought there had been a real slip-up.
If his mental discipline had been even slightly weaker, a single hesitation would have exposed him.
Now it was clear.
Penguin had been testing him.
And Ogilvy was certain he wasn't the only one tested—everyone present had likely faced the same question.
"Is that so?" Penguin asked mildly.
"So the man you killed in the casino wasn't him?"
"The build is similar," Ogilvy replied without hesitation, "but the face is completely different. Someone must have made a mistake."
"I killed that man because he was cheating at blackjack," Ogilvy continued evenly.
"According to the Iceberg Casino's rules, cheating means death."
He had prepared this explanation long ago.
The man he killed was never a Penguin Gang member—he was one of Ogilvy's private assets, cultivated in secret. Many such people existed across Gotham, each connected to Ogilvy through a single line, unknown to everyone else.
For someone like that, the only legitimate reason to meet the casino manager was cheating.
Of course, it couldn't be real cheating.
The Iceberg Casino's rules were absolute: anyone caught cheating died, no exceptions.
So Ogilvy had arranged subtle movements on surveillance footage—enough to raise suspicion without proving guilt.
That way, the man could be brought to him openly.
If needed, it could later be ruled a misunderstanding.
But Ogilvy never intended to let him leave alive.
If Penguin questioned the killing, Ogilvy had a perfect justification ready.
"All the records are still in the casino," Ogilvy added calmly.
"The surveillance footage clearly shows his cheating."
Penguin nodded slowly.
"Hm… then someone truly must have mistaken him."
He didn't press further.
Instead, Penguin leaned back and changed the subject.
"I'm very satisfied with your plan against Kaito Kid," he said.
"You'll be fully responsible for executing it from now on."
"My attention will be elsewhere. I don't have time to deal with that thief."
Then Penguin's eyes turned cold.
"Lark and Grayletard followed me for over ten years," he said slowly.
"And now they're dead in prison."
"If I show no reaction… Gotham will descend into chaos."
He turned to the other men in the room.
"Summon all the crime families."
"We're having a gathering long overdue."
A storm was coming.
---
Meanwhile — Chandler Manor
Outside the gates of Chandler Manor, dozens of reporters crowded together.
Cameras flashed endlessly.
At the center stood Madam Chandler, her face thin, her expression composed.
Though age and stress had left their marks, she still carried the dignity of a powerful family matriarch.
"Madam Chandler," a young female reporter asked, her long black hair neatly tied back,
"Kaito Kid stole your family's heirloom, yet you appear remarkably calm. Do you not resent him?"
"Rumors say that Kaito Kid always returns the treasures he steals. If that's true, the Dragon Egg Ruby Necklace should come back. Is that why you're unconcerned?"
Madam Chandler smiled faintly.
"If it will return to my hands," she replied,
"why should I resent him?"
But in her heart, hatred burned.
There was only one person she truly despised.
The reporter nodded admiringly.
"Your generosity is impressive, Madam Chandler. One more question—"
"The exhibition was jointly organized by the Chandler Family and the Cobblepot Family."
"Oswald Cobblepot is the leader of Gotham's largest criminal organization, with numerous criminal records. Why cooperate with someone like him?"
"Some suspect the Chandler Family was forced into this partnership. Is that true?"
Madam Chandler's expression hardened.
"No comment."
The reporter smiled slightly.
"One final question," she said softly.
"What do you see… when you look at the sky?"
Madam Chandler frowned, confused.
She raised her head.
And froze.
A white balloon floated down from above, drifting silently.
Attached beneath it was a small box.
Painted on the balloon was a bold, unmistakable image—
Kaito Kid's smiling face.
Madam Chandler's breath caught.
She immediately lowered her gaze to the female reporter.
The woman was gone.
No one around recognized her.
No one had seen her leave.
After a brief, futile search, Madam Chandler stopped trying.
If Kaito Kid were that easy to find, he wouldn't still be free.
Yet…
She remembered the reporter's graceful figure, fair skin, pleasant voice, and calm smile.
A thought surfaced unbidden.
Was Kaito Kid truly a "he"… or a "she"?
The balloon descended within reach.
Madam Chandler removed the box and opened it.
Inside, resting quietly—
was the Dragon Egg Ruby Necklace.
Returned.
Untouched.
As promised.
---
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