126-130

Chapter 126: The Birth of Two Sides 

Something wasn't right. 

That thought popped into Bruce's head. 

The entire city of Gotham was glued to this crucial, albeit bloodless, battle unfolding in the courtroom. As one of the people who wanted to see Gotham get better the most, he obviously wasn't going to miss today's trial. In fact, he'd arrived even earlier than Cody. 

He just hadn't been recognized. 

A worn-out black beanie, cheap circular sunglasses, a thick, scruffy beard, and a wrinkled jacket – the complete package. As a master of disguise, Bruce looked absolutely nothing like his usual self. No one would ever connect this seemingly ordinary passerby to the billionaire playboy of Gotham. If anything, he looked more like a homeless guy panhandling on the street. 

His expression turned serious. He looked at Cody beside him, then at Harvey Dent on the stand, a knot of worry tightening in his chest. 

Ever since Harvey had turned his basement upside down last month, he'd found all three listening devices Bruce had planted there. Plus, he'd changed his phone, making all surveillance useless. To top it off, Harvey had even confronted him directly about whether Bruce was the one who planted the bugs. 

Having a teammate whose situation he couldn't keep tabs on made him a little uneasy, and now, Maroni's bizarre behavior was making him feel even more like something bad was about to happen. 

"Salvatore Maroni." 

On the stand, Harvey pressed Maroni, his voice tinged with urgency. "I'm asking you a second time—" 

"Hold on a sec—cough! cough!" 

Maroni coughed even more violently. He fumbled for the bottle Vernon had given him, unscrewing it as he spoke. 

"I got some medicine... right... here!" 

In that very instant, Maroni violently flung the bottle. The liquid inside sprayed everywhere, flying directly towards Harvey's face. 

Maroni burst into laughter, watching the look of utter horror on Harvey Dent's face. It felt incredible. Around the courtroom, everyone else's faces mirrored that shock. 

In the next second, everything fell into place. 

"AAAAAHHHH—!" 

Harvey clutched his face with both hands, collapsing onto the courtroom floor, letting out a piercing shriek. In everyone's eyes, the White Knight had just fallen into the dust. 

"Ah! Listen—!!" 

"Quick, get a towel!" 

"Oh my god! Call 911!" 

"Hurry! Hurry!" 

People from all directions swarmed towards the fallen white figure. Cody charged forward as well. Bruce didn't rush in; his sharp gaze was locked onto Maroni off to the side. 

Several bailiffs piled onto Maroni, grabbing his arms to prevent any further violence in the courtroom. The suit-wearing mob boss, meanwhile, was howling at Prosecutor Harvey on the ground. 

"You're finished, Dent! That's strong acid! That stuff eats through concrete!" 

"You thought you had me cornered, huh? You thought you had me? Didn't you?!" 

Seeing his arrogant display, a bailiff nearby immediately drew his pistol. This wasn't about bribery anymore – Maroni's actions were a blatant, public challenge, grinding the judicial system into the dirt. And the reason the criminal world was called the underground world was precisely because it could never directly challenge the rules out in the open. After all, Gotham wasn't independent of U.S. jurisdiction. 

Maroni had crossed a line. They'd only assumed the small, irregular bottle just contained medicine, never imagining that the thirty thousand dollars was meant to buy Harvey Dent's life. And now, if they hesitated any longer, the severity of the situation would only escalate. 

The agitated Maroni elbowed a bailiff who'd stepped forward to restrain him. Another immediately opened fire. 

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" 

Three shots. Three bullets all found their mark in Maroni's body. The mob boss collapsed onto the courtroom floor on the spot. Blood began to pool around him, and the intense pain brought sweat to his forehead. 

As Maroni fell, he heard gasps from the crowd gathered around Harvey, followed by them all backing away. 

"AAAAAHHHH—my expensive suit!" 

Maroni, who had been smirking even as he lay wounded, now had his eyes wide open when he heard Harvey's shout. He watched, disbelieving, as Harvey scrambled back to his feet. At this moment, half of his face and the upper half of his white suit were stained dark by the liquid from the bottle. 

He pushed through the crowd and came over to Maroni, watching the look of disbelief on his face, then sighed softly. "My suit, Mr. Maroni, you've ruined my suit. And my face hurts so much... Why did you throw medicine on me like that? My face feels awful..." 

Medicine? 

Maroni was speechless. Who the hell would throw medicine on you like some kind of childish prank? Where was his strong acid? 

Where was the whole damn bottle of strong acid?! 

Harvey leaned down, looking into Maroni's eyes. His clean left half of the face was full of confusion and pity, but the dark right half revealed a hint of a cold smile, one that was almost imperceptible—a smile only Maroni, facing him directly, could see. 

Looking at the two-faced man before him, Maroni felt a chilling dread creep up his spine. He had thought he was the one in control, but only now did he realize he had underestimated Prosecutor Harvey. 

Lying in a pool of blood, he opened his mouth, but no words came out. His consciousness was gradually fading. Harvey, meanwhile, patted him on the shoulder and stood up. 

"How terrible, Mr. Maroni. I can't believe you would do something like this in court, attacking me with strong acid in front of everyone. If you hadn't accidentally mixed up the strong acid with the medicine, I might have died right here in court. Everyone here is a witness, Mr. Maroni. I'll file a proper complaint. This time, your crime is undeniable... If you survive, recover well and prepare for the investigation." 

Maroni coughed up a mouthful of blood. Harvey's words felt like another stab wound. He knew clearly that the nature of this crime was different from anything before; it could genuinely cripple the Maroni family. 

And in the next moment, his mental state completely shattered. 

He saw Harvey ignore him and turn towards the stunned Vernon. When Harvey had first fallen, Vernon had shouted about getting help and quietly tried to back away from the crowd, but he was still standing here now, watching the chaos in the courtroom. 

"Vernon, thank you. Without your efforts, Maroni might not have been willing to appear in court at all. Ah, what a shame. It seems both you and I were fooled by him. He never truly intended to accuse Falcone." 

"Pfft!" 

Maroni coughed up blood again. He saw Vernon frantically waving his hands, his mouth seemingly forming words, but whatever he was saying no longer mattered. 

Filled with rage and the bitterness of betrayal, Maroni's eyelids slowly grew heavy. 

Chapter 127: Cody, The Arch-Inciter 

Vernon was finished. 

Watching Harvey sighing and offering comforting words, Vernon desperately tried to justify himself regarding Maroni on the floor. But it was useless. The moment he saw the murderous look in Maroni's eyes directed at him, he knew it. He was done. Utterly, completely screwed. 

Funnily enough, at this exact moment, the person in the entire courtroom who most wanted Maroni dead had become Vernon. 

What do I do? What do I do? If Maroni woke up, he would absolutely not let him off... 

Vernon stared intently at Maroni on the ground, subconsciously taking a step forward, but Harvey quickly grabbed him. "Easy, Vernon. Go get some help... Isn't that what you were just shouting about doing?" 

Vernon turned to look at District Attorney Dent, who suddenly seemed like a stranger. His gaze was calm, indifferent, yet it felt like it could pierce straight through Vernon's eyes and see the filthiest depths of his soul. 

In that instant, he suddenly understood why the strong acid he was supposed to give Maroni had turned into medicine. 

Someone knew about Maroni's plan beforehand. Someone played along and swapped the liquid. Someone wanted Maroni to clean me up personally. 

Harvey Dent... you played me. 

Vernon gritted his teeth so hard they audibly clicked. At this moment, he was consumed by fear and dread. He was, after all, a coward who repaid kindness with enmity and sold his soul for money. He only dared to pull shady stunts behind Harvey's back. Right now, he didn't even dare to give the District Attorney a hateful look. He could only lower his head, afraid for anyone to see the expression on his face. 

For Vernon, who had no stance and only knew how to stab people in the back, the taste of being betrayed was undoubtedly the worst – though, of course, calling Harvey's actions "betrayal" was entirely his own, one-sided perspective. 

Maroni heard a clamor of voices around him, but he couldn't focus on anything. All he felt was excruciating pain and a crushing sense of despair. 

For a woman, he thought to himself. For a woman, Maroni... what have you done? You couldn't even take down that relentless lowlife Harvey, and you didn't listen to your old man. Instead, you went and helped Falcone. Honor, rules... all thrown straight into the gutter. 

When Sofia helped The Roman swallow up the weakened Maroni family in the future, would she show even a sliver of mercy? 

He thought, maybe if I just die here, it'll be... more dignified. 

"I'm gonna save him! I'm gonna save him!" 

Just then, a voice that sent chills down his spine squeezed through the crowd and reached his side. "Boss! Don't be scared! I'm here to save you!" 

Maroni tremblingly opened his eyes, staring at that familiar jinx's face. A thousand thoughts tangled and surged in his mind. After a moment of silence, all that emotion finally condensed into a single word. 

"Get lost." 

"Aw, Boss, I really missed you saying that. But now's not the right time! If I don't treat you fast, the ambulance will get here!" 

"Who the hell wants you to treat me... Aren't you just some restaurant worker?" 

"How do you know I haven't studied medicine?" 

"You... you got a license, you damn...?" 

"Nope." Cody answered instantly, without hesitation. 

The stunned crowd listened slack-jawed to their conversation. Hearing this, they finally couldn't help but step forward and grab the hand Cody was about to use to 'help.' 

"Holy hell, you damn back-alley doctor! How dare you try to give Maroni emergency aid in court?!" 

"Anyway, he's definitely not gonna die! Those three bullet wounds aren't fatal! It won't hurt anything if I just treat him a little, right?" 

"Go to he... cough!" Maroni tried to curse but couldn't manage it. Rage flared, and he spat out a mouthful of fresh blood. 

If some other quack treated me, maybe I'd be okay. If YOU treat me, will I even survive long enough for the ambulance to get here?! 

"I'm never, ever gonna be your boss again! And you're never gonna be my damn employee... Cough! Cough! You understand?!" 

Cody watched him fiercely grab his collar, glad he'd worn a cheap jacket from a street vendor today. He looked seriously at Maroni and replied, "What are you talking about, Boss? A man's gotta eat, right? To eat, you gotta work. To work, you gotta find a boss... If you're not my boss, how am I supposed to eat?" 

"Go find... cough... Go find The Roman!" 

"Aw, Boss Falcone didn't want me anymore. He even gave me money to come find you..." 

"FALCONE!" 

Maroni's eyes widened, threatening to pop. His consciousness, which had been fading, suddenly became sharp and clear. Every past event snapped into place, forming a clear line leading to the truth. He finally understood, with dawning horror, exactly who had played him. 

Cody, Harvey, Vernon, maybe even Jenkins who probably sold him out – they were all just bit players. The most important thing was the guy who kept sending that jinx Cody his way. 

"Carmine Falcone!" 

He gnashed his teeth, repeating the name, letting it burn on his tongue. He'd done so much for Sofia, and it all benefited The Roman. Falcone had been stabbing him in the back for a long, long time. 

It was Falcone all along... 

At that moment, he suddenly remembered what his father had told him in the orchard. 

"You gotta act like a man." 

"The point of this is still Falcone." 

He repeated his father's words over and over, finding more truth in them the more he thought. 

Just then, the siren of an ambulance finally echoed outside the window. Only three minutes had passed since Maroni was shot. Turns out, if the money's right, Gotham's emergency response can almost give the Trauma Team from '2077' a run for their money. 

At this point, he saw Cody about to be pulled away by the crowd and instinctively grabbed his collar again, dragging him closer. 

"Cody, I'll give you double the money! Just go back where you came from!" 

Cody looked at his desperate expression and nodded, enlightened. 

"No problem, Boss." 

Then he pulled out a camera and snapped a few pictures of Maroni's sorry state. 

"?" 

"See ya, Boss." 

After Maroni was loaded into the ambulance, Cody casually slipped away from the crowd. He took off his blood-stained jacket, turned the bloody side inward, and carried it to avoid being mistaken for a criminal while walking down the street later. 

As he walked, he checked the quest rewards he'd gotten from today's odd job. 

【Coin of Two Sides Note: Yeah, yeah, I know the world will never be short on Two-Faces. Stories need actors to play their parts. There are as many universe's as there are White Knights driven mad. That's just how it is. But despair and hope are two sides of the same coin, always together, aren't they? Note 2: This year, Gotham gave Harvey a little bit of hope and warmth. Just a little bit was enough to change the fundamental color of Harvey Dent. If brought to the Harvey Dents of other universes, it might be able to reverse or blur their 'madness' trait.】 

Ding—The strangely colored coin was tossed high, then landed back in his palm. 

Chapter 128: Jenkins Was In On It Too 

"Carmine! Good news! Amazing news!" 

A slightly overweight Carla Viti burst through the door, excitedly blabbering at Falcone. "Do you know what happened yesterday?!" 

"Carla, I know you might have something important to tell me, but I really need to rest right now—I desperately need it." 

The Roman rubbed his temple with one hand, sighing. "Last night's birthday party went on way too long. You people can really go wild. I didn't sleep well." 

But Carla completely ignored him, just pointing at a newspaper and shouting, "Maroni didn't testify against us in court! Instead, he attacked Harvey Dent! Carmine, do you know what this means?!" 

"A District Attorney can't cause us much substantive harm anyway. If he hadn't stirred up Maroni, we wouldn't have needed to care about the outcome of that trial at all," Falcone replied flatly. "As for Maroni not testifying anymore—that was my arrangement." 

"But the biggest piece of good news is, Maroni screwed up! Harvey Dent is completely unharmed. They say he just found a bathroom and washed his face after leaving the courthouse. All he lost was a suit." 

"Hmm?" 

Hearing this, the Godfather finally sat up and took the newspaper. As he read, a look of surprise spread across his face. 

"Maroni's way of doing things is truly strange. When did he get so soft-hearted?" 

"They say he mixed up the strong acid and some medicine, but that's not the point. The point is, that leech Harvey Dent is still sticking to Maroni and pressing charges! You can imagine how much weight this lawsuit is going to carry, right?" 

The Roman narrowed his eyes. "A crime committed in broad daylight, completely undeniable. Everyone saw the whole thing happen, and there's even camera footage from the courtroom. This case is practically impossible to lose. The main thing now is, how much is it going to cost Maroni?" 

"Exactly. Take a look at these pictures." 

"..." 

The Roman looked at the photos of Maroni lying in a pool of blood, his mind racing. He couldn't believe Sofia had managed to push Maroni this far, to the point where he got shot by bailiffs right there in court. 

What exactly did she say to Maroni? 

"My birthday... I truly received a great gift." 

"Falcone, this is an unprecedented opportunity. You know what I mean, right?" 

"I do. If Harvey had died, Maroni would have eventually been pulled out of prison, even out of the lawsuit, by his old man. But now... now they're stuck." 

Carla Viti nodded. At this point, she wasn't even thinking about challenging Falcone anymore. There would be plenty of opportunities for internal power struggles later; swallowing up Maroni's operation was the priority. 

Basically, the relationship between the two families had always been like this: whoever the other side was trying to take down, 'I, Falcone/Maroni,' was sure to 'help out.' But both sides had generally played by the rules, so the intensity of the bloodshed was always limited and hadn't escalated. 

"That idiot Harvey. His lawsuit is weak, easily shut down by Maroni, really meaningless. But if we get involved, we can directly take down Salvatore Maroni himself and even impact the Maroni family along the way." 

"Cooperate with Harvey Dent?" 

"Lending a hand isn't exactly cooperation. No loss of troops, no bloodshed, you don't even need to get your hands dirty, just spend a little money. Besides, if we hadn't gotten involved, Maroni would have already been cooperating with that prosecutor. Doesn't he understand the benefits of finding a different path?" 

The Roman fell into thought. Crime families using legal means to fight – it had been years since something like that had happened in Gotham. 

Switching the chessboard to Gotham's judicial system... would that leave any hidden dangers? 

Falcone thought for a long time. He thought about that St. Patrick's Day, the silent and somber moment of remembrance for the Maroni and Falcone families, he thought about that green dream, he thought about his son Alberto, who died from gunshot wounds. 

Finally, he exchanged a look with Carla Viti and made his decision. 

"Alright then, we won't directly contact Harvey Dent. We'll just strike from behind when he's prosecuting Maroni, help restore justice to this court that Maroni influenced, and increase the penalties." 

The one who sent the photos to the Falcone family was, of course, Cody. 

"Ugh, so stingy. Six figures again, and just a one-off payment." 

Cody hung up the phone, sighing helplessly. 

That morning, he'd taken some photos of Maroni getting shot to his supervisor. The supervisor was overjoyed, gave him another sixty thousand dollars, and told him that if he wanted to keep getting paid, he should keep bringing evidence of Maroni's misfortune. 

"Wait, aren't you guys going to rehire me as an employee?" 

"What nonsense are you talking about?" the supervisor sneered. "Let me ask you, after seeing what happened to Maroni, who would dare hire you as an employee? We're giving you sixty thousand because we hope you'll keep doing work. If we could, we wouldn't want anything to do with you." 

"So what's our relationship now?" 

"Don't ask. Just keep working." 

Cody thought about it carefully. Well, a temporary worker is still a worker, and an informant is still a person. Since he was taking money from the Falcone family, he definitely counted as one of theirs now. Maroni had no reason not to give him money. 

Thinking this, his mood immediately brightened. Seeing that it was already afternoon, he started humming a tune, changed into a cheap jacket, spent ten minutes making faces at himself in the mirror, grabbed his toolbox, and headed out. 

Half an hour later, outside the Gotham City Courthouse. 

A security guard saw a bearded man in casual clothes trying to walk in and immediately stopped him. 

"Hold on. Who are you?" 

"Marcus the electrician. Here to fix the camera in the underground prison," Cody replied. "Forget about me? Jenkins just called me here a month ago." 

The security guard remembered then that he seemed to recall this electrician. Jenkins did know him. 

"Hold on a second, I'll—" 

"Just call Prosecutor Harvey directly. Tell him Cody here to fix the camera." 

"Alright, wait here then." 

Cody watched him make the call to Harvey, put away his phone, and then say to him, "Okay, you can go in." 

"Thanks, pal." 

He walked into the courthouse building, toolbox in hand. 

No one in the building paid any attention to the electrician passing by. He whistled and hummed all the way, walking expertly into the underground prison area. He showed his work ID, had the prison guard open the door, and then started tinkering with the camera. A moment later, he pulled a small listening device wired in parallel with the circuit from inside the dismantled camera. 

"Man, Jenkins, you really weren't careful." 

Chapter 129: Iron Gate, Iron Window, Iron Chains; Leaning on the Bars and Gazing Outside 

Jenkins was flipping through the newspaper in his office, and his mood wasn't exactly sunny. In fact, it was downright awful. 

"Maroni..." his face clouded over. "How in the hell did this happen all of a sudden? I finally latched onto such a big shot..." 

Ring, ring! 

Just then, his cell phone blared, startling him. He tossed the paper aside and snatched the call. 

"Yeah?" 

"Supervisor Jenkins, an electrician just went down to the underground cells. Said he was sent by D.A. Harvey to check the wiring?" 

Jenkins instantly tensed up. "What's his name?" 

"Marcus." 

Hearing that, the knot in Jenkins' chest loosened. He let out a slow breath. 

"Let him be," he shrugged. "I know the guy." 

Actually, it was more than just 'knowing' him. 

Harvey had mentioned to Jenkins ages ago that the monitoring in that room only had one camera and that it worried him. So, Jenkins had found this guy named Marcus to help him tap two extra listening devices into the room's electrical circuit. Without being wired in, those bugs would need charging or battery changes, and they wouldn't last half a month. 

Jenkins, being the clever sort, naturally paid off the electrician Harvey hired. That's how he found out Harvey had set up three listening devices in total. It also gave him an initial sense of trust in this Mr. Marcus, who clearly knew which way the money flowed. 

He paid Marcus to disable all three of Harvey's bugs and even get rid of the camera. All of this was done right in front of Maroni – a gesture of loyalty that earned him Maroni's praise and a nice reward, making his gnawing unease vanish completely. 

Pfft. He'd hitched his wagon to the biggest horse. Even if Harvey found out his setup was dead, what could he really do? Jenkins could just shrug it off as an electrical fault, and Marcus would back him up. 

He hung up the phone, casually flipping a few more pages of the paper, when his movements suddenly froze. 

"Wait a minute... something about this feels... off." 

Just then, his phone rang again. 

"Didn't I just say, let him do his thing?" 

This time, though, it wasn't the security staff calling. 

"Mr. Jenkins." A cold voice, laced with a chilling edge, cut through the line. "Mr. Maroni sends his regards." 

"He asked me to relay his exact words: 'Among my friends, there are none who would dare betray me, nor any useless trash.'" 

Beep... 

The dial tone buzzed in his ear. Jenkins slumped back in his chair, his face ashen, trembling uncontrollably. 

"It's over... it's all over..." 

Ring, ring! 

Then, incredibly, a third call came in. 

Jenkins fumbled for the phone with shaking hands. At this moment, he desperately wished it was Maroni on the other end, giving him one last shot to explain, to beg. 

No such luck. The voice on the line wasn't Maroni. It was District Attorney Harvey Dent. 

"Jenkins. I just tried calling you, but the line was busy. I guess you already got Maroni's 'greeting'." 

"Whether you have or you haven't, just listen to what I'm telling you. If you don't want to end up dead on the streets of Gotham, or worse, in your own bed, don't hesitate. Grab whatever evidence you have of your crimes and go find Commissioner Gordon." 

"Turn yourself in. Be a cooperating witness. That's your only way out of this alive. Good luck, Jenkins." 

Since the fallout from Harvey's trial, Gotham had gone eerily quiet on the surface. More than a month had passed. 

Maroni, Roman, the District Attorney's office, the GCPD – they were all in a strange stalemate. No takeovers, no hits, no shootouts. Only those caught in the middle truly knew the dark currents churning beneath Gotham's murky waters. 

Maroni, who'd mostly recovered his mobility, didn't even get a chance to retaliate against Vernon and Jenkins before he got the news they'd been picked up by Commissioner Gordon at the GCPD. Maroni knew instantly. These two rats had flipped on him, planning to become cooperating witnesses. That way, they'd get police protection and wriggle out of their own graft and corruption charges. 

"They wish," Maroni spat, disgusted. If Harvey Dent's lawsuit wasn't about to kick off, he'd have prioritized dealing with those two sons of bitches. 

But it didn't matter. Even with those two talking, he could still buy the court. He'd just do a short stint in prison, nothing serious. His father, Luigi, would take back control and pull him out. 

That's what he told himself. 

Because the case was so high-profile and the evidence so solid, things moved fast. But Maroni was quick on his feet too. By the day of the sentencing, he'd already bought off the court personnel. He knew the ropes; judges and lawyers in this town weren't exactly paragons of virtue, so it wasn't hard. 

"Mr. Maroni, for the attempted murder of the District Attorney in court, you are sentenced to a lengthy prison term. The duration is thirty years." 

"Say that again?!" 

Maroni stood at the defendant's table in the courtroom, veins bulging in his temples, his voice a strained whisper of rage. "Say that again, you hear me?! How many years?!" 

I paid three million! You give me thirty years?! 

He clenched his fists, staring at the judge's rigid face, then across the courtroom at a clearly surprised Harvey Dent. The name he'd been trying to shake off resurfaced in his mind. 

"Carmine Falcone?" 

Yeah. Who else in this city could mess with a courtroom verdict like that? 

"Mr. Maroni!" the judge snapped, his voice sharp. "Respect the court. This matter has already earned you a thirty-year sentence and significant fines and restitution. If you continue to behave like this, your sentence will be increased." 

A seething Sal Maroni was led out of the courtroom. Luigi Maroni quickly stepped back into power to lead the Maroni family. 

A few more days passed. Maroni remained locked up. Instead, Luigi spent some cash to get a visit with his son in prison. 

Maroni looked defeated, head hanging low, whispering apologies to his father like a kid who'd truly messed up. 

"Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't listen to you." 

"Sal, you've brought shame on the Maroni name." 

Luigi, his hair white at the temples, sighed as he looked at his son through the bars. "I looked into it. Falcone definitely got his hands in this trial. Harvey Dent, that fool, was just a pawn... he was supposed to be our pawn, don't you get it?" 

"They grabbed Alberto. They helped us out once. They were supposed to team up with us to take down Falcone... it was all set up perfectly. Why in God's name did you lose your mind and do something like that?" 

"With Falcone blocking things, I can't get you out right now. You... just stay in here and think about what you've done." 

Father and son, separated by iron bars, both sighed. 

Chapter 130: Legal Battle 

After the court trial incident, things in Gotham City really started heating up. Falcone realized that changing the playing field seemed to be a better way to take down the Maroni family without drawing blood. The Maronis, on the other hand, figured their only shot at revenge and turning the tables was to drag Falcone down with them using the judicial system. Meanwhile, folks at the courthouse found themselves handling more and more hot money, making them increasingly hesitant to even touch it. 

Following that conversation in prison, Luigi got the full rundown of everything from his son. A few days later, he was back in the joint. 

"Maroni, from today on, you need to remember this: Harvey Dent is going to be our ally. You know how humiliating this is for me, Luigi, at my age, having to go seek cooperation from the very prosecutor who put my son behind bars?" 

Maroni looked up, stunned, his voice full of disbelief. "Dad?! Why—" 

"Why, you ask? Outside of court, without you, without any of your guys we could use, what are we supposed to hit Falcone with? It's almost laughable, our biggest hope of flipping this whole mess now rests solely on Gotham's judicial system, and that District Attorney." 

Maroni was silent for a long time before speaking, his voice bitter towards Luigi. "Dad, I get that the family needs to work with Harvey Dent to go after Falcone, but there are two traitors who have to be dealt with." 

"Luigi, if you want to work with me, you can't hurt my two friends." 

"Harvey Dent, don't push your luck. You know perfectly well that grudges between families are worse than regular enemies, and traitors are even worse than family grudges." 

In the Gotham District Attorney's office, Harvey Dent, dressed in a white suit, was negotiating with Luigi Maroni, whose hair was dyed back to black. 

"Vernon and Jenkins are law-abiding, hardworking men. I can't just stand by and watch you use illegal means to go after them. You know who I am – the District Attorney of Gotham City." 

"Law-abiding? Hardworking?" Luigi sneered. "Where were their 'law-abiding' thoughts when they were taking money? Where was the 'hardworking' when they were deleting surveillance footage?" 

Harvey lowered his head, a flicker of an almost imperceptible smile in his eyes, then fell silent. 

Seeing the other man's silence, Luigi continued, "Maroni spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on those two. That amount alone is enough to land them a good long stint in prison. By your own account, those two bastards only had a 'change of heart' at the very end and came to you. What they did before, the laws they broke – it's all solid fact. What right do you have to help them?" 

"...No." Harvey hesitated for a long while, but still shook his head. "No matter what, their crimes don't warrant death. If you want my help, first off, you can't use illegal means to solve the problem." 

"Harvey Dent!" Luigi's voice was low and heavy. "You need to understand right now, neither I nor Falcone want a repeat of the St. Patrick's Day incident. That's why we decided to resolve this conflict without bloodshed. I don't want to break that understanding – I don't want to, it doesn't mean I can't." 

Harvey's brows furrowed tightly. Looking at his expression, Luigi knew his threat had landed; the prosecutor was starting to waver. 

"I'll back down a step further," he said. "Since you see yourself as Gotham's District Attorney, then fine. I won't pursue further retaliation. I'll only prosecute these two based on all the illegal acts they committed. Prosecutor Harvey, I expect you to uphold justice impartially." 

Hearing Luigi's words, Harvey clenched his fists, his lips pressed tight, his brow practically tied in a knot. Clearly, Luigi had hit his weak spot. 

This fool will agree, Luigi thought, watching the struggle on his face. Precisely because he's the prosecutor, he can't cover for the criminals Vernon and Jenkins. 

"...I agree." 

After a long struggle, Harvey finally caved in dejection. "But you have to swear to help me go after the Falcone family with everything you've got." 

"Even if you didn't say it, I'd be doing that anyway," Luigi waved a hand. "You're a very upright prosecutor, Mr. Harvey." 

"Hope we can work well together." 

Heat like that tends to just build and build. 

Gotham City's two biggest gangs, fueled by anger, started their massive war in the courtroom. From the moment Maroni was locked up and sentenced to thirty years, things were completely off the rails. 

First to go down was Falcone's drug network. 

"Poone Falcone, found guilty of trafficking large quantities of new narcotics, aggravated murder, and rape, sentenced to 114 years in prison on multiple counts." 

"Raoul Adams, found guilty of trafficking large quantities of new narcotics, aggravated murder, and rape, sentenced to 51 years in prison on multiple counts." 

(Numerous other convictions omitted below) 

If you had to describe the Maroni family's first wave of attacks in one sentence, maybe "pulling up a radish brings up the mud" would fit. 

Nobody knew the Falcone family better than Luigi, their long-time rival. Because of that, this round of attacks was comprehensive and incredibly effective, hitting almost all the core members of the drug network who worked for the Falcones. 

"I want that old man dead!" 

Falcone slammed his fist onto the desk in front of him, gritting his teeth, his face a mask of fury. "And that Harvey Dent! Messing with my business, prosecuting my family... I should have taken care of him ages ago!" 

"Dad, should we..." 

Sofia, behind him, drew a finger across her throat. 

"That idiot is just one gun. They can easily find another. And we can't make a move now – because that shameless old bastard will definitely start using the police department against anyone we send. Once the two sides clash, no matter who wins, he wins." 

"So then..." 

"We file lawsuits too. That old man won't dare to go brute force either now." 

"Olly Maroni, found guilty of selling large quantities of handguns and rifles to over a thousand adults under the age of 21, aggravated murder, rape, and illegal firearm possession, sentenced to 135 years in prison on multiple counts." 

"Leone Maroni, for selling to over a thousand..." 

(Numerous other convictions omitted below) 

Falcone's counterattack could probably be described as "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." 

Following this, Gotham City's courtrooms and prisons were practically filled to the brim with people from the two major gangs – Falcone's drug network and Maroni's firearms, Falcone's human trafficking and Maroni's smuggling rings, Falcone's numerous casinos and Maroni's various establishments for money and vice... 

The legal battle between the two sides didn't just scratch the surface; it was a bloodbath, tearing their operations apart. Due to the sheer number of criminals, Wayne Enterprises even started funding the government to build new large-scale prisons. 

Until one day, the Maronis' lawsuits targeted Falcone's group of enforcers, and the name "Sofia Falcone" was right there on the list. 

(End of Chapter)