House of Valen Chapter 5

Chapter 5: A Present for Batman

The docks smelled of salt, rust, and gun oil. Penguin’s men milled about nervously. Their rifles clutched like lifelines. While their headlights cut harsh beams through the fog, illuminating crates stacked high with smuggled goods.

Penguin himself stood in the middle, puffing irritably on a cigar, his beady eyes darting at shadows that weren’t there.

Must be afraid of a confrontation with a certain bat, but too bad for him… that guy didn’t show up.

Then, suddenly, something moved. An individual all will come to know in the future and dread having to face such an impossible obstacle.

The roof of a car suddenly exploded. There was a figure there crouched on top, grinning down at them with eyes that glowed faintly in the dark.

“Evening, gentlemen,” Nox said casually, chin propped in his hands as if this were all a joke. “I couldn’t help but overhear your little… business transaction. Tell me, is this where Gotham’s finest get their weapons these days?”

One thug blurted, “What the hell?” Before he could even understand what was happening, Nox shot forward, hand snapping around the man’s throat. With a sickening crack, he dropped the body dead before all those present.

It didn’t take but a few seconds before panic exploded. Guns raised, muzzles flashing. Of course, Nox was way faster than a speeding bullet, and at the same time, he didn’t even have to dodge. They all just bounced off him playfully as if they were shooting him with Nerf guns.

He walked through the hailstorm with a leisurely pace, smiling as if strolling through a garden.

“You guys really need better toys,” he mocked. In the blink of an eye he vanished and reappeared behind two thugs, driving their heads together with a sickening crack until they lay still as one.

Another rushed him with a knife, screaming. Nox caught the blade between two fingers, twisted it away, and rammed it back into the man’s chest. He collapsed with a shriek, clutching at the wound.

“Relax,” Nox said lightly, patting his shoulder and leaning down over him. “You’ll live, maybe.”

Penguin’s cigar trembled between his teeth. The handle of his umbrella wobbled as he stepped back, his face paling in the orange glow of the dock. “WH-What are you? Some kind of new freak in a cape…”

“Hmm… freak?” Nox tilted his head, laughing softly. “I’ll take it, but I would never wear a stupid cape. It’s far too dramatic and could get caught on things.”

Another thug tried to flank him, firing wildly. Nox spun, fist plunging into his chest. The sound was like a tree snapping. He hit the ground hard, unmoving, never to rise again.

The remaining gangsters faltered. Some dropped their guns. Others froze, staring in horror at the stranger who treated their deaths as if they meant nothing to him.

Nox clapped his hands together, grinning at the lot of them. “Oh, don’t stop now. We’re just getting warmed up.”

When no one moved, he sighed. “Fine, have it your way. I guess the party’s over.”

He blurred again, weaving between them like a phantom. Bones cracked, screams echoed, and weapons clattered uselessly to the dock. One man was left crawling, arm twisted grotesquely behind his back. Another was sobbing, clutching his broken jaw.

Nox thought it was only right to give them something to remember him by, considering they gave up so easily.

Through it all, Penguin didn’t move. His eyes darted from the corpses to the wounded, his breath rasping faster with every second.

Of course the big boss was left for last, giving him the most time to dread how he’d actually end up.

Nox finally stopped and put his full attention on the one making all this carnage possible. His hands tucked casually into his pockets. He looked around at the wreckage, men sprawled unconscious, bleeding, or dead.

“Well,” he said with mock excitement. “That was kind of fun.” Considering none of these people could actually put up a fight, it left him wanting more, but he understood he couldn’t get it here.

His eyes zeroed in on Penguin, who stiffened under the weight of his grin.

“Don’t worry, you weird little man.” Nox continued, pointing a finger like a gun. “You get to live, for now… I like the way you squirm. It’s… entertaining.”

Penguin’s lips moved soundlessly around his cigar, the stud trembling so badly it fell from his mouth onto the dock. This was a first for him, being on the receiving end of someone who doesn’t care about consequences.

He could usually take advantage of his target and get them to bend to his will. But he knew this man wouldn’t budge, and he’s also on a superhuman level of strength.

Nox chuckled, turning away, his capeless silhouette cutting sharp against the mist. “See you around, birdman. Try not to disappoint me with boring thugs next time.”

Just like that… He shot into the sky, vanishing into the night as fast as he’d come.

Penguin stood frozen in the silence, surrounded by the groans of his broken men and the bodies of those who hadn’t made it. For the first time ever, Gotham’s underworld felt truly powerless.

He hated such feelings!

Penguin wiped sweat from his brow, his umbrella cane shaking as he tried to convince himself he was still alive. He also hated the fact that bastard had called him small; the last man who said such a thing was now sleeping with the fishes.

Maybe he could crawl back from this and build something even stronger.

“I’m safe.” He muttered.

As he was coming back to himself, suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. There was the hot breath of someone behind him.

“Safe, huh…”

He could only freeze, refusing to turn back around and see death. Even though the voice was casual with a teasing tone, he knew he could do nothing but be at the mercy of this individual.

Nox walked around him to see his petrified face, grinning like he’d just caught a big fish.

“You really thought I’d just let you waddle away after all this?” Nox said softly as he continued to circle him like a predator. “I mean, look at you… short, pudgy, and hiding behind hired guns and stupid umbrellas. Gotham’s underworld must really be scraping the barrel if you’re one of the big names.”

Penguin’s lips trembled. “W-Who the hell are you?”

Nox tilted his head, amusement glinting in his eyes as he said, “Think of me as the nightmare that hunts every bit of evil in this world, something the other heroes refuse to be. I will do what they will not, while you, Oswald, remain dull and pathetic, your nickname Penguin reducing you to a waddling punch line in a city full of trash.”

He watched as the bird took a few steps back, trying his hardest to create space between us.

After reducing the distance, he leaned in close, grin widening. “But hey, maybe you’re useful for something, and I just had the best idea.” He tapped his temple theatrically. “Why don’t I take you… to meet the bat?”

Before Penguin could stammer out a response, Nox had already seized him by the coat. With a roar of displaced air, the two shot upward, Gotham blurring into streaks of neon and black below. Cobblepot screamed, the sound ripped away by the wind as they soared across the sky.

They landed a few minutes later with a thunderous crash. He could've arrived sooner, but he circled the city first, enjoying the little birdie’s panic.

After throwing him to the ground, Nox shuttled between Wayne Manor and the dock, dumping every crate of Penguin's weapons onto the pristine green lawns. Guns and contraband spilled out like garbage across the well-kept grounds and at the very top of the pile lay Penguin himself, groaning, coat torn, and his face as pale as ash.

Nox straddled his chest, one hand casually propping up his chin, the other resting on Penguin’s sternum as though he were sitting on a throne.

“Knock, knock… Batman,” Nox called out, voice echoing across the quiet manor. “Your friendly neighborhood lunatic brought you a present.” He patted the fat little man’s head under him like he was nothing more than a pet. “Tonight’s dinner has been delivered, extra plump.”

Inside the manor, Bruce Wayne stood in his study, arms folded. He had been tracking this individual’s movements since the docks, but even he hadn’t anticipated this. To dump Penguin and his entire weapons cache onto Wayne Manor itself?

It wasn’t just reckless, but madness. He didn’t know if he was being given a gift or if this was straight-up mockery.

Bruce’s jaw tightened as he watched from the window. The man sat there on top of Gotham’s notorious arms dealer as if daring him to act, grinning up at the manor with those glowing red eyes.

What’s his angle? Bruce thought, mind already racing at what could become of this. He had broken such an empire in a night, yet he comes and delivers it? Was it to bait him or possibly a test?

Outside, Nox shifted, getting annoyed at the Batman who made him wait for his arrival. “Anytime now, Batman… Don’t make me knock down the front door. I know you’re in there watching and judging the situation. Deciding on whether or not to put an arrow through my eye or invite me in for tea.”

Penguin groaned under him. “You’re insane…”

Nox patted his cheek lightly. “Oh, Oswald, you’re just now figuring that out? Don’t worry though, you won’t have to suffer for much longer. Not if our gracious host decides to show his face.”

Bruce’s fingers drummed against the windowsill. Every instinct told him this was dangerous. But they also told him that ignoring it would bring an even more unfavorable outcome.

He was confident this man named Nox was doing this for nothing more than his own personal amusement.

After a heavy sigh, he steadied himself, turned, and descended into the manor’s depths as the cave’s familiar mechanisms whirred to life. If the man wanted the Batman, there was no choice but to accept the provocation, given where they stood.

The night was quiet, except for the ragged breathing of a certain bird.

Then movement came…

It was subtle and careful. Shadows stirring where no wind blew. The kind of silence only Bruce Wayne could wield.

Nox chuckled, not even turning his head. “Come on, Bat. I can feel your eyes on me. You’re good, but not that good.” He raised his voice, grinning up at the manor roofline. “Sneaking around your own house—that’s cute.”

A figure detached from the dark, cape flowing, eyes glowing white behind the cowl. Batman dropped silently onto the lawn, posture coiled, every muscle a threat.

Penguin’s eyes widened. His brain connected the dots at last… this was Wayne Manor, and now Batman was standing here. He twisted, staring between Nox and the Looming Dark Knight, realization dawning with horror.

“B-Bruce Wayne…” He stammered, voice cracking. “Y-you’re…”

“Shut up,” Batman growled, but the damage was done.

Nox threw his head back and laughed, clutching his sides. “Oh, this is priceless! All these years of playing dress-up, hiding in the shadows, and then this guy…” He tapped Penguin’s head. “Figures it out of all people… What are you going to do now?”

Batman’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing, only stalking closer. What could he even say that wasn’t already out in the open?

Nox leaned over Penguin, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Let me guess: Arkham Asylum. Toss him in with the rest of the loonies and hope the revolving door keeps him quiet, or you can take a cleaner route.” He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You kill him, nice and simple; problem solved.”

“No.” Batman’s voice was like steel, unwavering in his convictions.

Nox grinned. “Of course not… That’s your rule, isn’t it? No killing, even if it would make your life and the world so much easier.”

Penguin squirmed as he trembled, sweat dripping down his face.

Nox spread his arms, inviting the night itself to listen. “You're predictable, Batman. Gotham never changes because you’re too afraid to cross that one line.”

Batman stepped closer, cape billowing. “Don’t try to understand Gotham. You never will.”

Nox just smiled wider at such a response, eyes glinting with the thrill of an interesting target.