76-78

Chapter 76: Tomorrow or the Unexpected, Which Comes First? 

Inside the ship's cabin, clutching a tray, Cody was sweating bullets. 

"Roman is making a move on Maroni? The Holiday Killer sparking a massive gang war? Can something this big really be decided this fast?" 

"Holy hell, I'm supposed to be working in Gotham next year! Will I even find a normal job besides being a goon? If I keep waiting tables, am I gonna be serving drinks by day and dodging bullets by night?!" 

Those two crime bosses probably had no idea a waiter with enhanced senses could actually hear their whole conversation. 

At first, when all his senses got jacked up at once, the flood of information used to totally overload his brain. Overly complicated scenes would just... freeze him up sometimes. That problem bugged Cody for a good while, kinda like those Kryptonians when they first hit Earth. 

Good thing he had plenty of time, and his enhancements weren't as insane as, say, Superman's. So after maybe ten days or so, he pretty much got a handle on his new physical state. 

"Just like dear old dad. You keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, right, Carmine?" 

No sooner had he left Maroni's side than a woman's voice reached the Godfather's ear. 

"You and I could say the same about each other, Carla." Falcone and the heavily made-up, gold-bedecked blonde woman hugged briefly. "Even if you are my only sister." 

Seeing his sister frown, Falcone decided not to push his luck with family and changed the subject. "Have you seen Alberto? It's getting late..." 

"Saw him on deck earlier." Carla smoothly pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, trying to ease her frayed nerves. Ever since she lost her son, her temper had been... volatile. Maybe only getting equal payback on the Holiday Killer would finally cool a mother's rage. 

The Godfather raised an eyebrow, spotting a likely-looking waiter nearby. He beckoned him over. "Kid. Over here." 

Cody froze up completely. He just wanted to hang back and listen in on some juicy gossip from Gotham's top mob family, the little scraps of their lives. He never expected Roman himself to call him out. What the absolute heck? he thought. 

He's that sharp? Seriously? Okay, note to self: never stand right in front of Roman while eavesdropping again... 

"Kid, I remember you. Alberto spoke well of you, said you were good at what you do. Go on, fetch him. Get him up here to me from the cabin." 

Cody secretly breathed a sigh of relief. At least Roman hadn't put him on some kind of hit list – even if he'd definitely made an impression on the boss, at least it was a good one. 

"No need." 

Just then, Carla Viti spoke up from the side. 

"I could use some fresh air anyway. I'll tell your son his father's looking for him." 

Watching Carla Viti turn and leave, and seeing Maroni with his arm in a cast among the crowd, Falcone pulled out some cash, telling Cody to get back to work. As he walked away, he could still hear Gotham's crime boss leaning against the counter, sighing softly. 

"Surrounded by such lovely vipers, I am. If I didn't have Alberto... there'd be no one left I could trust..." 

By the ship's railing, Alberto stood silently, staring blankly out at the dark ocean and Gotham Harbor in the distance, lost in thought. 

The cabin door suddenly opened, and Carla Viti walked out, lighting her cigarette. The drifting smoke and tiny spark glowed for a moment, then vanished again. 

A gloved hand gently twisted an old-fashioned lightbulb. In an instant, the light in that corner disappeared. 

A gunshot shattered the baby pacifier, breaking the silence of the night. 

Falcone clutched his wound, his body slipping from the railing into the sea. 

"Help! Someone! Help Alberto!" 

Carla Viti's screams echoed on the yacht. At her feet lay a .22 pistol, a broken baby pacifier, two shell casings, and a model champagne glass spilled everywhere. Looking down from the railing, only the icy seawater stained with bright red blood could be seen. 

"Sorry." 

Harvey, bundled up against the storm, opened the door. Cold air, scattered snowflakes, and Harvey's apology rushed into the room. Gilda quickly ran out from inside. 

"I'm late coming back..." He took off his blue trench coat and fedora, hanging them on the rack beside him, apologizing to Gilda. "Things at the office today. Got held up." 

"It's okay," Gilda said softly, warming Harvey's red cheeks with her hands. "You're back just in time—wait, Harvey, your hair's all wet?" 

"Snowing out there." 

Gilda nodded, then eagerly pulled Harvey inside. "Oh, right—come on, I have a little..." 

"Surprise." 

As she finished speaking, the two walked into the living room, arriving by the fireplace. The fire was roaring, its red glow reflecting off two people wearing festive pointed hats, raising their glasses to Harvey. 

"The Gordons...?" 

Harvey, however, didn't step forward to greet them. Instead, he turned and walked away, heading towards the kitchen. Gilda was a little taken aback by his reaction. She softly called out behind him, "Harv?" 

"I'll... uh—I'll just go see if he needs any help in the kitchen." 

Commissioner Gordon seemed to catch on to something. He offered an explanation, put down his drink, and walked towards the kitchen. 

Meanwhile, the two women stayed in the living room, chatting about their daily lives, their hopes for the new year, and their relationships with their husbands. Ever since Harvey started coming home earlier and they decided to try for a child, Gilda's face had held a lot more smiles. 

"Jim's niece, little Babs, is here for the holidays, staying with us. She's old enough to watch the house now, so we finally got a night out." 

"I guess Harvey might really want a little troublemaker running around," Gilda said with a shy smile. 

"Ah, you're planning on having a child... Congratulations, really." 

"Ever stand in front of an open fridge, Jim?" In the kitchen, Harvey stood before the wide-open refrigerator door, asking the question. "Looking for something that was right in front of you the whole time?" 

Jim Gordon took off his hat. He knew that look on Harvey's face. Every time he wore that expression, it meant something important was going down. 

"What is it, Harvey?" 

"We need to talk, Jim..." Harvey turned around, his expression serious. Half his face was starkly lit by the refrigerator light, the other half lost in dark shadow. 

"We need to talk about Bruce Wayne." 

Chapter 77: The Season of Harvest Has Arrived 

Alberto Falcone, Roman's golden boy, gone. Swallowed by the icy black water of Gotham Harbor. 

It was news nobody saw coming, absolutely earth-shattering. The Falcone family had sent plenty of bodies to the bottom of that harbor over the years, maybe hundreds, maybe thousands. But back then, not a single soul could have guessed the son of the current head of the Falcones would meet the same fate. 

You could call it karma, comeuppance even, but it felt almost too cruel for young Alberto. Sure, he always wanted to get involved in the family business, but his father always kept him out. Meaning, he hadn't actually done anything directly illegal himself. Taking out such a peripheral figure as revenge against Falcone? Yeah, that seemed pretty damn harsh. 

But no matter how you sliced it, everyone could agree on one cold, hard fact: Gotham was about to crack wide open. 

"Find him! FIND MY SON! Until I see a body, Alberto isn't dead!" 

The Godfather raged at the silent, frozen crowd. Everyone knew he was clinging to the last shred of hope, but everyone also knew that even if a shot Alberto somehow hadn't died instantly, he wasn't likely to survive in that freezing water. And now? After all this time with no sign of him? Chances were, he'd already fed the fish. 

But hey, what's all this big-shot mob drama got to do with me, Cody? 

"Ah, Boss! Missed ya like crazy! Every single day you were gone, all I could think about was the quiet life back here at the restaurant..." 

Cody, dressed in his casual winter gear, laid the enthusiasm on thick for the manager. 

Manager Philip, leaning on his cane with a cast on his arm, just scowled, clearly not in the mood to talk. And who could blame him? Philip really didn't want the unlucky guy back. 

Having a jinxed car was bad enough, but the guy himself? Two months ago, he started working at the Red Dragon, and by the end of the month, the restaurant was gone. A month ago, Donald pulled some strings to get him a job as a waiter for the Falcones, and on New Year's Eve, Roman's favorite son, Alberto, ended up dead in Gotham Harbor. 

Nobody really blamed him, of course. The Red Dragon got smashed up by Batman, who was mainly after the Falcone guys anyway. Even without Cody, Bats would have come for Philip and Donald eventually. 

Besides, the Godfather's kid? That was the Holiday Killer's work. Everyone knew the psycho only targeted Falcone family members. He'd already taken out Johnny Vitti, so why not Alberto? 

Still... it felt damn creepy. 

Gotham's mobs, at the end of the day, were still pretty old-school. They talked about honor, sure, but they also had a healthy dose of superstition. And with Cody having been Alberto's direct guy? Yeah, it made everyone uneasy. 

"Every time I see you, I can't help but think of Alberto," The Godfather had said, clapping a hand on Cody's shoulder. 

"Go on, kid. I figure you understand what a father's going through. Go on back to the Red Dragon." 

Cody felt... complicated. On one hand, his December salary showed up right on time. (Kid and business, apparently equally important in the family? They still had to pay the guys – or maybe, yeah, maybe the kid was a little more important to Falcone?). 

Either way, seeing that $30,000 paycheck land in his account brought a strange mix of emotions. On the one hand, finding a job in Gotham that pays this well and lets you sneak out to make porridge for the kids? Like finding a unicorn. On the other hand, the Godfather was already planning a war with Maroni, and now his son was dead at exactly this moment. Cody couldn't even imagine how brutal the war in Gotham was going to get. 

Staying with Falcone? The odds just went through the roof. Yeah, Red Dragon looked a whole lot safer. 

"Alright, listen up," Philip snapped, pointing his good hand. "No more of your weird antics. You are going to practice your shooting. You can shoot a gun now, right?" 

"Totally," Cody declared, puffing out his chest like he owned the place. "Aside from hitting what I'm aiming at, my shooting is pretty much perfect." 

Philip's face went bright red. He looked at Cody's smug grin and flashed back... the shattered lamps, the mumbling like that freak Gollum, the infuriating marksmanship, the soul-crushing laziness... They were all back. All of it. 

Finally, all that frustration condensed into one furious roar. "GET YOUR DAMN UNIFORM ON AND GET TO WORK!" 

"Got it!" Cody slicked back his hair and zipped towards the locker room. He exchanged a few words with coworkers he hadn't seen in ages. Some hadn't been too badly hurt and had recovered in two months. Good to see some familiar faces, though bummed Rick, Castro, and the other guy (the trio) were probably still laid up. 

Just then, the system's familiar prompts started chiming in. 

[Please note, work hours for the month before last have been compensated] 

[Asset points have been settled, total 5500 points] 

[Current remaining asset points: 119900 points] 

There were some leftover points from before, but I used 'em up on daily stuff and making that Laba porridge. Now it's a nice round number. As for why the number suddenly got so huge? Well, the "Gotham City Winter" mission hit 100% completion. 

[Gotham City Winter Status: In Progress (100%) Rewards Activated 'Holiday' attribute effect activated, cooking the holiday food 'Laba Porridge', gained attributes 'Harmonizing and Nourishing' and 'Warming the Body and Dispelling Cold' Harmonizing and Nourishing: Multi-grain porridge, harmonizing and nourishing, enhances the nutritional supplement effect of Laba Porridge for eaters. Warming the Stomach and Dispelling Cold: Ingredients are warm in nature, warming the body and dispelling cold, enhances the cold resistance effect of Laba Porridge for eaters. Currently obtained attribute enhancement: 100% Task progress has reached 100%, holiday attribute enhancement cap is unlocked, when the task continues to advance, it will permanently add holiday attributes to food, this additional reward will end in mid-January, the cap is 50%. Currently obtained permanent attribute enhancement for holiday food 'Laba Porridge': 15.360% Note: Maybe you should look into getting a job in Antarctica someday – the biggest difference between you and a polar bear is, they aren't as tough against the cold as you are.] 

Staring at that six-figure mountain of points in the system, Cody felt genuinely confident for the first time in his life. 

Chapter 78: Valentine's Day 

"I'm here tonight purely out of respect for... the relationship between my parents and your family." 

The tall, sharply dressed man stood by the window, looking through the blinds at the bustling crowd below. The clinking glasses, the flowing wine, the beautiful socialites, the sheer, dazzling spectacle – this party had it all. And the host downstairs looked like he was soaking it all in. 

Falcone watched him, watched Bruce Wayne by the window, still unable to figure out what was going on in that head of his. This was a genuine connection forged between two families in a time of crisis, yet this rich kid didn't seem to care about it. For years, he'd stubbornly tried to cut ties with anything remotely connected to the underworld, looking at the Falcone family like a blood-stained, dirty bill, afraid it would stain his hands. 

Was it the arrogance of the upper crust, some kind of lofty idealism, or just plain immaturity and naivety? 

Regardless, he respected the bond between the two families. He respected the doctor who saved his life back then. So, he would treat the young man with courtesy. That was the "Roman's" way. 

He shook his head slightly, speaking to Bruce. "Your father was much more than just a friend to mine, Bruce." 

"That was a long time ago." 

The playboy answered casually, his eyes fixed on the lavish wedding feast below. Layers upon layers of exquisite, expensive cake, a golden tower of priceless champagne bottles, the live, melodious performance of a professional orchestra, impeccably polite waiters tending to every need, a room full of guests, indulging in every luxury imaginable. 

The man at the center of the wedding was Johnny Viti, and the plump blonde woman beside him was his mother, the Godfather's sister, Carla Viti. Other major figures in Gotham – wealthy merchants, influential officials, famous socialites – they were all here tonight. 

"But today, you have so many new friends, Mr. Falcone. So many powerful friends. Isn't that Richard Daniel over there? President of Gotham National Bank, now he's a friend of yours too." 

The Godfather heard the sarcasm in Bruce's voice, but he didn't care. He cut straight to the point. "I'm a fortunate man. Richard tells me Gotham National is considering doing business with Falcone Imports. I was counting on you, Bruce. Put in a good word." 

Family ties are maintained by mutual benefit. That was the first lesson Falcone's father taught him. Not just family ties, but many relationships require exchange and interaction, whether emotional or material. And Carmine Falcone was indeed very smart. He always learned quickly what his father taught him. 

Gotham National doing business with Falcone Imports was clearly a win-win proposal, beneficial to both sides. 

However, Bruce's response was the same few words he'd given countless times to the Godfather's suggestions, the same answer regarding the relationship between their families. 

"No." 

He turned to look at the Godfather. "I won't vote for your interests or influence the board – no matter what favors you've done for Richard." 

As always. No surprise there. 

"How... disappointing." 

Though he said the words, the Godfather's face showed no anger. He elegantly sniffed the deep red rose in his hand, letting the fragrance clear his mind of unpleasantness, and still spoke to Bruce. "Enjoy the rest of the party, Bruce. Try the cannoli. I had them flown in from Italy. Very fresh." 

Click. 

As Bruce left, the door closed behind him. A butler with a boutonnière on his lapel had a dark expression. He stepped forward, standing beside the Godfather, and suggested, "Perhaps... I could 'persuade' Mr. Wayne, just like the others." 

The Godfather put the red rose back in his lapel and waved a hand. "I don't think that will be necessary, Milos. Richard guaranteed me we'll have enough votes." 

"Though Bruce could have guaranteed it absolutely." 

Just a few minutes later, the door opened again. 

A man wearing glasses, looking refined and educated, walked in. It was Alberto Falcone, the Godfather's son. 

The Godfather waved him closer, his eyes still watching the people on the dance floor through the blinds. His sister Carla, who had traveled all the way from Chicago, was certainly worth noting, but the beautiful woman dancing with Bruce Wayne on the dance floor was also rather eye-catching. 

For some reason, Falcone subconsciously reached up and touched the three claw marks on his cheek. He felt a strange sense of familiarity with this woman named "Selina Kyle." 

"Father, you should know, I saw Bruce Wayne lurking outside the door just now—" 

"Alberto, Alberto, Alberto." 

The Godfather sighed. His youngest son, Alberto, always liked to think ahead for him, trying to solve the problems he faced in the family business. This was what he liked most about him, and also the one thing he least wanted to see happen. 

He was too smart, and he cared too much. That's exactly why he sent him away for further education. The black underworld was meant to stay hidden. The Falcone family couldn't remain a simple mob outfit in Gotham forever. He had to plan for the future. Laundering money through the import company was the first step in the Falcone family's transition from black to white. And after they were legitimate, the heir to the vast Falcone enterprise naturally had to be legitimate too. 

Falcone put a friendly arm around his son's shoulder, smiling as he said, "A handsome young man like you should be down at the wedding, chasing after the pretty girls. Not worrying about these little matters that don't concern you." 

That was what happened at Johnny's wedding last year. 

Memories flowed in like a tide, then receded. But thinking of Alberto always brought the past rushing back. 

"Ever since Richard Daniel quit, the other banks in Gotham won't touch us – Falcone, our money's tied up. The other families are watching you." 

"Dad, I might have a way—" 

"Alberto, quiet. We're talking business. Carla, my nephew Johnny should be back by now. I need to see him immediately. I want him to handle that bank president who dared to back out first!" 

That was what happened before Halloween last year. 

"Sugar, tomatoes... add some sausage. It's Thanksgiving today. We have a lot to be thankful for, Alberto." 

"Yes, Dad." 

The door suddenly burst open. 

"A lot to be thankful for? Like what? Falcone, my Johnny is dead!" 

That was what happened on Thanksgiving last year. 

Now, I'm just like my sister. Falcone looked at Alberto's tombstone and silently placed the blood-red rose he held in his hand. 

That was what happened this February, on Valentine's Day. 

Roman stood alone, somber in the Gotham cemetery.