The Diamond District, Canary Restaurant.
"Today's appetizers include lemon and herb squid ravioli, goat milk sweetbread, and arugula Caesar salad. For the main course, we have swordfish loaf with onion jam, quail breast with blackberry jus cooked medium-rare, sorrel-stuffed baked pies, barbecue rabbit on a bed of crispy fries, and red mullet on a base of violets and pine nuts."
The waiter in a white uniform and black bow tie announced the day's specials with a professional smile, accompanied by the soft strains of a live violin performance.
Around the dining room, warm lighting bathed gentlemen in tailored suits and meticulously styled hair. Wristwatches peeked from beneath cuffs, flaunting their dual roles as timekeepers and status symbols.
Ladies, adorned with radiant smiles and colorful dresses, accessorized with black lace gloves as they elegantly removed slim cigarettes from delicate cases. With a toss of their hair, they revealed pale, slender collarbones to their male companions.
Elizabeth and Isabella were visibly uncomfortable in this pretentious display of "high society," shifting awkwardly in their seats and tugging at the sleeves of their casual clothes.
Elizabeth stabbed repeatedly at her barbecue rabbit with a small fork, grumbling, "Honestly, I'd rather have some tacos at home, especially with McDonald's Szechuan sauce."
"Spicy food might be satisfying, but it's a fire hazard for your... digestive end," Li Ang replied calmly, using his knife to cut a piece of quail breast. He chewed, swallowed, and added, "And didn't you seem really excited on the way here? Who was it that kept saying, 'Oh my gosh, the Canary Restaurant! I have to post pictures of the food on Facebook before I eat!'"
He mimicked Elizabeth's voice with exaggerated precision, earning a flustered headbutt in retaliation.
The meal, while delicious, wasn't Li Ang's main focus. Engaging in small talk with the twins, his sharp eyes darted to a corner of the restaurant where a middle-aged man sat surrounded by bodyguards.
The man, dressed in a tailcoat and black top hat, had a hunched, rotund figure. His head was shaped like a squash, narrow at the top and broad at the base, with a sharp hooked nose nearly touching his thin lips. A single gold-rimmed monocle perched on his nose.
This was the Penguin—Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot.
A born deformity, Oswald hailed from the declining Cobblepot family. Rising from a lowly umbrella boy, he climbed the criminal ladder through scheming, betrayal, and ruthless ambition, finally establishing himself as a mob kingpin—a Gotham version of Helen Keller in terms of sheer determination.
After gaining control of Gotham's criminal underworld, the Penguin didn't stop there. He ventured into business, transforming Gotham's impoverished slums into the upscale Diamond District. His Iceberg Lounge became the city's premier high-end establishment—a perfect front for laundering money.
Later, he turned to politics, leveraging bribery, blackmail, and masterful campaign slogans to win the previous Gotham mayoral election.
But fate had other plans. The Penguin was ultimately unseated by Batman, who exposed his corruption, leading to his imprisonment in Arkham Asylum.
After his minions orchestrated his release, a now-disillusioned Penguin retreated into semi-retirement. No longer interested in managing criminal affairs, he confined himself to his territory, living a quiet life filled with fine dining and music.
At this moment, however, the mob bosses from the previous night's charity gala, including the unfortunate Richard Sappa—now wearing a white neck brace to support his injured throat—were gathered around the Penguin's table. They stood like chastised schoolchildren, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Using his peripheral vision, Li Ang observed the Penguin's lips and mentally reconstructed his words.
"Richard, I heard about your little mishap last night. Quite humiliating, stripped down to your underwear… though it does sound like an Italian tradition."
Richard forced an awkward smile. "You jest, sir."
"Well then..." The Penguin scratched his double chin. "Have you identified the 'waiter' who humiliated you? Have you caught him yet?"
"We're close," Richard replied, feigning confidence. "My men are working tirelessly to track him down."
"Good. It would be disgraceful for a mob boss to let such an insult go unanswered."
The Penguin smirked at Richard's stiffening expression, clearly enjoying his discomfort. For someone who had once been humiliated by Batman, the Penguin's mockery betrayed no trace of self-awareness.
"Well then, what brings all of you here together?"
Richard straightened, carefully choosing his words. "Sir, you may have heard about Wayne Enterprises' Gotham Port Redevelopment Project. It poses a serious threat to our operations."
"You're hoping I'll intervene to deal with those trying to take over Gotham's port?"
A Russian mobster chimed in, "Yes, Mr. Cobblepot, we're in a very precarious position—"
"Why should I?"
The Penguin wiped his lips with a napkin, coldly cutting him off. "I've already retired, remember? Your schemes are no concern of mine."
"But you were once our leader..." Yamaguchi-gumi boss Tadashi Gen'ichi interjected cautiously.
"Were. That's the key word," the Penguin said flatly. "I'm old now—my hair's turning gray, my legs aren't as nimble, and I barely feed the pigeons in my favorite park anymore."
He snapped his fingers, signaling a waiter to bring champagne. Swirling his glass theatrically, he added, "Time, like a fickle host, barely shakes hands with the departing guest while rushing to embrace the newcomer with open arms."
Troilus and Cressida, Li Ang noted silently. The Penguin's penchant for quoting Shakespeare was as legendary as his criminal exploits.
The mobsters, however, clearly hadn't paid attention during literature class and failed to follow the Penguin's lead. Breaking the silence, Richard Sappa coughed and said, "Mr. Cobblepot, if I may remind you, 80% of your group's revenue comes from our operations. Without our support, you might find it difficult to maintain your current lifestyle."
The Penguin narrowed his eyes, a glint of menace flashing across his monocle. "Are you threatening me?"