Nightwing drove out of the sewer. The expensive SUV was soaked in sewage and emitted a disgusting stench.
Martin pulled the Penguin out of the car and cleaned and bandaged his wounds to prevent infection. If he died before talking, this whole trip would be in vain.
"Thank you so much this time! Without your help, I would've been stuck in that tunnel," Nightwing said, relieved to have escaped death, but his expression turned bitter as he caught the overpowering stench coming from his own battle suit.
Martin nodded, accepting Nightwing's gratitude, then lifted the Penguin. "We need to find a place to interrogate him."
Originally, he had planned to head directly to the Batcave—it would save time and effort. But knowing how suspicious Batman and his family were, he kept that thought to himself.
Nightwing shook off the dirty water clinging to his suit. "There's a safe house nearby. We can go there. But first, let me confirm something. Were you on the Last Quote's ship last night?"
"Not only was I on that ship, but I also helped Batman ruin the party Penguin was hosting."
Martin didn't hide anything and gave Nightwing a detailed account. Then, he asked, "I didn't see you yesterday. How do you know about me?"
Nightwing prided himself on being a veteran in Gotham. He thought he'd seen everything, but after hearing Martin's story, his mind was reeling.
He instinctively relayed his investigation notes to Batman—there was no reason to keep it a secret. "I see!" Martin nodded. "As expected of Batman, he can deduce so much from so little. But isn't he a little too suspicious?"
"Batman is definitely too suspicious… No, wait! We need to pry open Penguin's mouth first."
Nightwing nearly got lost in complaining about Batman before remembering their actual mission. Ignoring the nausea, he threw the Penguin back into the SUV and stepped on the gas.
The high-speed drive helped disperse the horrid stench in the vehicle. As the air cleared, Martin's mind drifted to Arkham Knight.
"Nightwing, when was this safe house built?"
"These safe houses were established in Batman's early years and have been renovated since. They're incredibly secure—even the League of Assassins wouldn't be able to find them."
Nightwing's headache worsened from the lingering stench. He put on an oxygen mask and tossed one to Martin, who gladly accepted it.
Martin thought to himself: Of course, the League of Assassins wouldn't find them, but your own people in the Bat Family? That's another story.
He had no solid proof yet, and Nightwing would never believe that Arkham Knight was Jason Todd.
"If we delay any longer, something will go wrong. The League of Assassins has been silent for too long. Their return means they have something planned."
"You're right. We should be careful!"
Perhaps it was Martin's self-destructive abilities that left an impression, or maybe it was gratitude for saving his life. Either way, Nightwing agreed, slammed the accelerator, and the SUV shot up to 200 mph.
"You in a rush to meet Death?" a driver yelled after being overtaken.
But the moment they recognized Nightwing behind the wheel, they wisely shut up and pretended nothing happened.
You don't mess with the Bat Family.
"Follow me."
Nightwing drove the SUV into a small alley, stopped in front of a concrete wall covered in garbage, and accessed a hidden panel. A secret compartment slid open, revealing a passage underground.
Martin carried the still-unconscious Penguin and followed Nightwing down. The entrance sealed behind them, and the lights flickered on, illuminating the corridor.
"We're not actually going in there." Nightwing walked seven steps, stopped, and knocked on the wall beside him. Another hidden door opened. "That corridor is just a decoy to mislead intruders."
Martin stared at the maze-like layers of security. He gave Nightwing a thumbs-up. "You guys really went all out."
Nightwing shook his head. "Honestly, even I don't know how Batman designed these safe houses."
Martin entered the interrogation room and secured Penguin to the chair. Nightwing locked the doors and turned to him. "Who's interrogating him?"
"You go first. He knows you. Once he lets his guard down, I'll take over."
"Got it."
Nightwing grabbed a bucket of water and poured it over the Penguin, shocking him awake. Meanwhile, Martin stood in the shadows.
"Fxck..."
Penguin immediately started cursing out Nightwing's entire lineage.
"You're a bastard! And that Martin guy is a bastard too! If you think you can get information out of me, forget it!"
"Since you already know what I want, let's not waste time," Nightwing said as he activated an electric baton, arcs of electricity crackling to life.
Penguin instinctively flinched away but sneered, "You think a little electricity is enough? I, Cobblepot, don't break that easily! Go on, you Bat-trained softie! You don't have the guts!"
Nightwing almost laughed in frustration.
Penguin knew Nightwing wouldn't cross the line. He was playing the long game.
"Alright then, let's see how tough you really are."
Just as Nightwing was about to press the baton against Penguin, the interrogation room door flew open. Martin stormed in, raised his gun, and shot Penguin in the thigh.
"Ahhh! My leg! You psycho! I'm going to kill you!"
Martin held Nightwing back with one hand. "You like using an umbrella as a cane, right? I'll do you a favor and make sure you actually need one."
"Fxck you! If you have the guts, kill me!"
"Okay. If you die, the League of Assassins will just find someone else to work with. Either way, I'll find them."
"Nightwing, get out."
Martin shoved Nightwing out of the room and locked the door. He placed the muzzle of his gun against Penguin's forehead and started counting down.
"Three."
Penguin's forehead dripped with sweat—fear or pain, it was hard to tell.
"Two."
Martin pressed the trigger slightly, the mechanical click echoing in the silence.
"One."
"Wait! Fine! You win! I'll talk!"
"Bang!"
Martin fired. The bullet whizzed past Penguin's face. The smell of gunpowder filled his lungs, shattering whatever composure he had left.
Hearing the gunshot, Nightwing rushed in, only to find Martin casually waving a piece of paper.
Penguin was collapsed in his chair, panting heavily.
"I thought you actually killed him," Nightwing muttered.
"Relax." Martin handed him the interrogation notes. "Penguin's half-dead already. If I left him alone, he wouldn't last until help arrived."
"Let's go. I already called the cops. Want to bet whether Gordon gets here first or Penguin's men?"
Nightwing answered without thinking, "Gordon, obviously."
Martin grinned. "As expected of a Bat Family member—rich and powerful enough not to care that I just exposed this safe house."
"Uh…"
Nightwing paused, realizing what had just happened.
"I'm kidding." Martin dragged him toward the exit. "Penguin's men are already on their way. This safe house is compromised."