The failure of the previous day did not leave Savage feeling down. After all, the Falcone Family was the largest mob family in all of Gotham, formidable in power. If they were easy to deal with, Savage would think he had fallen into a trap.
Savage decided to make another round in the neighborhood to ensure he hadn't lost his way yesterday. With the lamp nearby, he could leave at any time, and even if there was no exit, he didn't think a few gang members could beat him.
Savage possesses advanced combat skills and physical fitness that no ordinary human can match. His reaction speed, agility, flexibility, and physical resilience have all reached their peak.
This time, he played it smart. To avoid teleporting straight into a cold storage room like the last time, he decided to land in a place next to this street. As it turned out, his choice was correct.
As Savage landed, he saw the dazzling lights across the street. He thought it was his destination, after all, an entire street of entertainment businesses should be lit up all night.
But as he got closer, he found that the source of light wasn't neon signs, and those patrolling the streets were not security guards of nightclubs.
The gleaming lights came from the floodlights atop armored vehicles. The whole street was monitored by fully armed elite gang enforcers. If this was a game, the level indicator above their heads would not be less than Level 100.
If there were only these gang enforcers, Savage wouldn't be afraid. Since the streets weren't crowded, he could plow through them.
The problem was, every gang member was fully armed. Not only did they possess automatic weapons, but some even had rocket launchers. Groups of three surrounded armored vehicles, while at the end of the street stood a light tank.
As Savage was looking in that direction, he saw a helicopter landing on a rooftop, and a small, skinny figure was disembarking the helicopter.
A tall gang enforcer by his side took out a loudspeaker and yelled, "To the unwelcome guest who trespassed on Falcone family territory last night, you have violated our rules. If you do not want your gang and family to be implicated, come over for a talk. May God bless you always..."
Savage saw the small figure from the helicopter enter the building through the rooftop door. He deliberately did this to show that he could be met inside the building.
This was an obvious trap, and normally, no one would fall for it. However, Savage didn't really need to intercept the Falcone family's merchandise. He came here to talk to young Falcone.
Through his research, he found that the Godfather's family was not known for brutality. On the contrary, the Italians of Gotham all liked to talk things over.
If the negotiation step was skipped and they moved directly to gunfire, they would be seen as lacking manners. Even gangster families that weren't part of the Italian Mafia began to act this way. The top echelons of Gotham's mobs were very civil.
Knowing this, Savage felt confident. As long as he could meet young Falcone, he felt sure he could persuade him to stand against his father.
Savage suddenly appeared at the entrance of the twin buildings. The few doormen at the front instantly pointed their guns at him. Savage lifted his head and said, "I'm the man your boss wants. Take me in."
Although Savage didn't make too many moves, his appearance was domineering and formidable, and the entrance using this method was sufficiently shocking.
The gang members looked at each other, unable to decide what to do. At this point, a butler came out of the building, bowed to Savage, and said, "Please come in, sir. Mr. Oswald has been waiting for you for a long time."
After speaking, he led the way, and Savage followed him in.
As he walked through the large doors, Savage frowned. The other party had no intention of searching him. Even the lantern he was holding in his hand was not paid attention to.
From the moment he entered the building, not a single gun was pointed at him. The mob members in suits standing in the stairwell were not looking at him. The butler kept a smile all the way to the door and thoughtfully helped him open it.
In Savage's impression, mobs were always chaotic. They hung around in groups, shouting and yelling in the streets. They would point guns at people's heads and grab people by the collar.
A more high-end version was just like a rat involved in smuggling and drug trafficking, scampering around the streets and never presentable.
In fact, his impression wasn't wrong. Most of the mobs in the world act like this. To earn more money, there is no need to wear a mask of deception for long. In the end, it always ends in you-or-me confrontations.
The reason why the Gotham mob could maintain such a decent posture was that the stake was too huge. Their cooperative relationship far outweighed their competitive one. Even if there was friction, it was just minor bumps at the lower level.
While the people below fought over things, when the bosses sat down together, they would light up a cigar, toast a glass of wine, say "the people below have no manners," and everything would be fine.
After they each returned home, they would not be angry that their subordinates hadn't managed to outbid, but they would feel that the lack of manners and disruption of rules was disgraceful.
They turned up their noses at the petty profits their subordinates fought over. During an era when resources were not yet depleted and there were ample opportunities to rise, to the mobsters of Gotham, rules and face were paramount.
Savage found that his intense demeanor had no effect here, where the mob adhered to even more stringent rules.
After he walked in, he saw a slender man, or boy. Cobblepot coughed twice into a handkerchief fetched from his suit pocket, then said, "Hello, sir, how should I address you?"
"Vandal Savage." Savage replied forthrightly. Cobblepot nodded and looked up at Savage, saying, "Well then, Mr. Savage, could you tell me why you were on that street yesterday?"
"What's your relationship with young Falcone?" Savage didn't answer Cobblepot's question, instead posing another.
Cobblepot squinted his eyes slightly, without betraying any surprise. He said, "Mr. Savage, it seems you've come prepared. Come out with it, what do you want to do?"
"I want to talk to young Falcone." Savage looked into Cobblepot's eyes, "If you are his subordinate, I would like you to connect me to him. Believe me, I have some good news for him."
"But you've first brought bad news - invading Falcone Family's territory and alarming everyone here, and you still refuse to state your intentions..."
"My intention is to have a talk with young Falcone." Savage said outright.
Cobblepot took a deep breath. He felt unable to reason with a mentally deficient person. Why, couldn't this tall man in front of him understand what he was saying?
Those who mingled at the higher ends of the mob understood the unwritten rules - regardless of your reasons or how urgent your circumstances, it was impermissible to simply barge into another family's territory. Thus, one side must give way first for the conversation to continue.
Usually, if such a situation occurred, the party involved would visit a higher-placed person of the other family to apologize.
And if the families' bosses were at odds, they would arrange to eat at the offending side's family mansion. If the trouble was significant, a third family, or even the Godfather, would be invited to the table to make things clear.
Regardless, the offending party who broke the rule first was in the wrong. Yet Savage seemed not to comprehend human speech at all. Giving way didn't mean you had to grovel and apologize, just say 'God bless the Godfather' would suffice.
Taking another look at Savage, Cobblepot noticed that his outfit carried some ethnic features. While its style was unique, it was made from very expensive materials, which indicated that the man was not some clueless thug from the streets.
Of course, he also saw that Savage was a foreigner. Foreigners could be ignorant of the rules, but those new to Gotham, and unfamiliar with its rules asking for a meeting with the Falcone Family's only son? Was he crazy?
Cobblepot was losing his patience. He decided to dutifully probe once, and if the other party still did not understand the coded message, he would be forced to turn hostile and expel him.
As for meeting Alberto? Please, the young godfather, was still angry from being disturbed last night, and Cobblepot had no intention of antagonizing him.
Alberto and Evans were two completely opposite individuals. Alberto was the exact image of the young godfather. Both the current and previous godfathers were influential figures, so Cobblepot tread carefully around them. After all, he still aimed to replicate and surpass the glory of the Oswald family.
He didn't want to risk upsetting Alberto for someone who popped up out of nowhere. Seeing Savage remain unresponsive, Cobblepot waved his hand dismissively and said, "Mr. Savage, since you feel there's nothing to discuss with the Falcone Family, we'll end it here ... please see the guest out."
Upon finishing, he turned to leave, however, Savage let out a cold huff, saying, "You'll regret your words and deeds today."
At this point, Cobblepot quickly turned around, his icy gaze piercing Savage, "What did you say?"
Savage didn't repeat himself, he simply stared at Cobblepot. He was accustomed to using such domineering tactics, but he forgot that he wasn't back on the Eurasian Continent where he was a great king. In Gotham, there could only be one king - the Godfather, who would tolerate no threats.
As Cobblepot made a gesture, guns were raised. The roar of an armed helicopter that seemed to bring a storm, hovered outside the window, numerous muzzles aimed at the room. Even before a shot was fired, the air was thickened with the scent of gunpowder.
Just then, footfalls came from outside the door. Alberto walked into the room, paused at the door to adjust his tie without glancing at Savage, but looking instead at Cobblepot, saying,
"Don't be like that, Cobblepot. He traveled a long distance to be here. Let us hear what exactly this gentleman wants to say to me..."