Chapter 92

My apology gift was quite a success.

I waved as Red Hood disappeared down the street in a blur, letting out an excited whoop. Idly, I wondered if someone might attempt to give the man a speeding ticket.

Maybe… I should send Jim Gordon a fruit basket as well.

Chuckling to myself, I turned and headed toward the entrance.

The two bouncers at the door looked on in bafflement as I strode past, giving them each a friendly pat on the shoulder before heading inside.

The Iceberg Lounge wasn't open yet, but the place was already bustling with activity. People moved to and fro, so busy with their work that hardly anyone seemed to notice my arrival.

Cobblepot was keeping busy, it seemed.

The successful launch of Iceberg Street, along with all the funding we'd poured into it, really seemed to be doing wonders.

I had a few miscellaneous things to take care of today myself. Getting my Robot Assembly up and running was a priority, which meant acquiring the necessary blueprints and materials. Simmy was currently busy fucking with the Court of Owls, so I'd have to handle the assembly myself.

Plus, there were a few events I wanted to organize. A charity battle arena with Wonder Woman, for instance. I wondered how that would go…

As I made my way toward Cobblepot's office, I idly rolled the Gold Ticket around in my mind.

Should I give it to Cobblepot? Or perhaps one of my other employees?

It wasn't that I wanted to disparage my guys' efforts. I trusted most of them to a certain degree, but I wouldn't exactly say we were particularly close either.

Maybe next time.

[Rolling Gold Gacha Ticket]

[Voice]

|Rare Trait|

You have a blessed voice that you can freely control, ranging from smooth to rugged, feminine to masculine, and can replicate any voice or vocal inflection you have heard. The power of vocal-based abilities is greatly enhanced.

I stopped in the middle of the hallway, blinking at the notification.

After a moment of consideration, I glanced around before slipping into an empty storage room and closing the door behind me.

Clearing my throat, I took a deep breath.

"Well, gawrsh! That sure ain't how I figured things'd turn out, Mickey!"

The words came out in a perfect imitation of Goofy's voice, right down to the pitch and inflection.

I immediately clapped a hand over my mouth, struggling to hold back a fit of giggles.

Oh… this had so much potential.

—

In the beginning, Oswald had some pretty serious reservations about this whole Goonion thing.

In his experience, alliances in Gotham came and went like the wind. So when he'd been strong-armed into this whole arrangement, he hadn't exactly had the highest of hopes. From day one, he'd been scheming for the day when the brat went belly up.

When the money started rolling in from the potion trade, he'd begun to rethink things. Playing the long con and seeing how much money he could squeeze out of the arrangement seemed like a sound plan. All the while, he'd be quietly preparing to jump ship.

Because this was Gotham. Everything blew up in this goddamn city sooner or later.

Yet, as the days turned into weeks, Oswald found himself spending less time planning his eventual betrayal and more time actually running the damn Goonion than managing his own people.

Now… well, his course was set.

Oswald's crew, the Lounge, damn near every contact he had, was now intertwined with this crazy fucking idea, and somehow, it worked.

He wouldn't jump ship even if he could.

Oswald took a deep drag of his cigar as he listened to his secretary, Tracy, deliver her report.

"How's the process going?"

"We've made some progress with the FDA, but several health insurance and pharmaceutical companies are still attempting to lobby against us." Tracy glanced down at her clipboard. "Getting our potions onto store shelves should be possible within the next two years or so."

"Push some more of our gifts to those who need them." Oswald rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Make sure they get the full works. Don't worry about the cost. Healing, cosmetic, whatever they need."

It was technically a bribe, but not the illegal kind he'd grown accustomed to over the years.

Giving away free potions to senators, famous scientists, or celebrities with sick family members and friends was all perfectly legal. Apparently, there was some old metahuman legislation from the fifties that made an exception for people receiving healing from unique sources. Supposedly, it had been passed because of the Justice Society, and nobody had ever bothered to repeal it.

And people called him a criminal.

Tracy's pen moved across her clipboard.

"Our sources also tell us that several companies are preparing to take this to civil court. Should we…" Tracy made a vague cutting motion across her throat.

"Of course not." Oswald chuckled darkly. "We're a very legitimate union, after all. Send a message to Harvey."

The madman was quite in his element these days, what with the sheer amount of legal wrangling it took to keep this beast running. Still, if the man was doing his job, who was Oswald to complain?

"Yes, boss." Tracy nodded. "Will there be anything else?"

Oswald waved a dismissive hand, and Tracy took the hint, turning to leave his office.

He leaned back in his chair and took another leisurely drag of his cigar.

Heh.

Who would've guessed he'd ever find himself in a position to bully such titanic companies?

He'd once been content to be a big fish in the small pond that was Gotham, but the kid had opened his eyes to something greater.

Oswald was gonna make the damn Goonion soar.

Sure, managing so many people was a pain in the ass, but the rewards were oh so worth it. Money, power, and he didn't even have to deal with the blasted Bat anymore.

"He'll be nothing more than a bad memory soon enough," Oswald chuckled to himself as he poured a drink and raised his glass. "Here's to never seeing the inside of Arkham again."

"Penguin."

A gravelly voice spoke from somewhere behind him.

Oswald froze, his glass halfway to his lips.

Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear.

"What do you want, Bats?" Oswald scowled as he set his glass down. "If you've come here to arrest me, then I'm going to ask to speak with my lawyers."

He didn't bother glancing around the room. The Bat wouldn't be found if he didn't want to be.

"Jean Valjean," Batman growled. "Tell me where he is and what I need to know."

Well, that crazy kid could probably deal with Batman himself.

Oswald reached into his desk and pulled out a file he'd prepared some time ago, holding it out toward the voice. 

"Gladly take a swing at him, but just leave me out of this, Bats."

There was a soft thump behind him.

Oswald turned his chair, hoping to get this over with quickly, only to find—

Jean Valjean stood there with his arms crossed, a wide grin plastered across his face.

"Betrayal? Really?" Jean wiped away a few imaginary tears, his voice still a perfect imitation of the Bat's. "How could you do this to me!?"

This… fucking kid.

Oswald massaged his temple. “Did you come here just to annoy me?”

“Maybe…” Jean snorted.

Oswald simply glared at his technical boss.

Jean raised his hands in mock surrender before taking a seat across from his desk. "I do have some business we need to discuss. But first, what'd you think of my Batman impression?" 

“Didn't notice a damn thing,” Oswald begrudgingly admitted. “What, you become an impressionist now?”

“Something like that.” Jean shrugged. “I can do basically any voice I want.”

He hummed for a moment before breaking into song, cycling through damn near a dozen different voices, from a deep baritone to a high-pitched soprano. 

“Think we can do anything with it?”

“We're not a singing company…” Oswald trailed off as an idea dawned on him. “Well, there is something.”

—

Bruce straightened his tie as the elevator carried him toward the top of Goon Union Tower.

In the end, he'd acquiesced to Diana's proposal despite his reservations. The plan was to organize a joint charity event, with Jean Valjean potentially sponsoring some sort of arena fight involving the Justice League and WayneCorp.

The elevator dinged, and Bruce stepped forward, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable.

"JUSTICE!"

A gravelly voice roared across the room.

Even so, Bruce couldn't help but stop and do a double take at the sight of Jean Valjean wearing a poorly made Batman mask.

"JUUUSTICE IN THE RING!"

Jean stood atop a table, microphone in hand, dramatically pointing toward the ceiling.

Diana sat on a nearby couch, giggling as Jean continued what was apparently supposed to be an impression of Batman. When Bruce caught her eye, she responded with an entirely unapologetic smirk. 

Jean finally noticed him and stopped.

"Oh, Mr. Wayne! Welcome!" Jean grinned as he pulled off the mask and hopped down from the table. "Glad you're here! What'd you think?" He strode over and extended a hand. "I was thinking I could do a Batman impression to announce the event!"

"...I think the voice could use some work," Bruce replied politely as he shook Jean's hand.

He didn't always sound like that.

"Really?" Diana chimed in, looking thoroughly amused. "I think it's perfect, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce forced himself not to shoot his friend a glare.

“Hmm… maybe you're right.” Jean Valjean stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I mean, I haven't spoken with Batman all that often, so maybe there's room for improvement. Would you perhaps like to give it a shot?”

“Oh, no, I shouldn't…” Bruce raised his hands.

“I could perhaps arrange a personal meeting with Batman at a later date,” Diana chimed in with a suspiciously wide smile.

“Oh, maybe then—”

“Perhaps just this once,” Bruce interrupted, holding out his hand.

Jean Valjean beamed and eagerly handed him the microphone.

What was he even doing…?

Bruce took a deep breath.

“JUSTICE!”

Both of them let out impressed oohs before breaking into applause. Jean Valjean looked genuinely enamored.

“That was perfect! We should MC the event together, Mr. Wayne! Batman won't know what hit him!”

“A fine idea!” Diana cheered.

It took every ounce of Bruce's self-control to keep the polite smile plastered on his face.

Damn it all.

***

Comments and Thoughts would be greatly appreciated. Likes are like a drug to me and boost my creative juices. 

I have advanced chapters lookup Daisyberry if you wanna read ahead.

Sorry for the delay!