“One shot each.
Who wants to go first?”
Oswald stared blankly at the revolver in front of him.
The engraved silver frame reflected the flickering candlelight.
It was a beautiful gun.
But beautiful things were often deadly.
Three bullets had been loaded into the six-chamber cylinder, giving him a fifty-percent chance of getting shot in the head.
His mind was in turmoil.
He raised his head and looked at Falcone pleadingly, silently begging the old man to call off this ridiculous game.
Unfortunately, Falcone continued working on his steak, paying him no attention whatsoever.
The rare steak still had bloody red streaks running through it.
The old lion calmly cut off a small piece, put it into his mouth, and chewed slowly, allowing the faint taste of blood to linger between his lips and teeth.
The immense pressure nearly drove Oswald to the breaking point.
In a daze, he imagined himself as the steak on the plate.
A giant fork pierced his body while a knife with a serrated edge sawed back and forth through his flesh.
Why do you have to force me into this?!
Oswald frantically grabbed the gun.
The disorder in his eyes revealed the collapse and madness within him.
He pressed the revolver against his forehead and let out a few nervous chuckles.
Then, as though he had suddenly figured something out, he slowly turned the gun and pointed it at Falcone.
If you want me dead, you’re not getting out of this unscathed either!
At the critical moment, Will Quentin pushed the barrel down.
“Calm down.”
“Will, I should’ve listened to you from the beginning…” Oswald’s pale lips trembled as he turned toward his friend.
“It’s not too late to listen to me now.
Give me the gun.
I’ll get you out of here.”
Will smiled, his eyes firm and resolute.
Oswald’s mental defenses had completely collapsed.
He was like a ticking time bomb, and calming him down was the most important thing at the moment.
“But…”
“No buts.
Trust me.”
Oswald let go, and Will smoothly took the revolver from him.
His expression looked calm, but inside, his fear was even greater than Oswald’s.
If that shot had gone off just now, the two of them would have been finished.
“You want to go first?” Falcone glanced over lazily.
“But make it quick.”
The old lion’s relaxed expression further confirmed Will’s suspicions.
He didn’t hesitate any longer.
He pressed the muzzle against his temple and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Click.
The gun didn’t fire.
Oswald let out a long breath and collapsed onto the table like a puddle of mud.
Will had pulled the trigger without any warning, and it had scared him half to death.
Falcone finally raised his head and picked up the napkin beside him, wiping his hands.
“You survived.
Next it’ll be…”
Before he could finish, Will pulled the trigger a second time.
Click.
Another empty chamber.
But strangely, even after firing twice, Will still had no intention of putting the gun down.
Falcone raised an eyebrow.
It seemed that, on this otherwise uneventful night, he’d found himself a particularly spicy appetizer.
The two stared at each other in silence for a moment.
Go ahead.
Let me see how much courage you have.
Click!
Click!
Click!
Click!
Four more empty chambers.
Will finally placed the revolver back on the table.
An oppressive silence filled the room.
“Mr.
Falcone, I didn’t mean to expose your little act.
I just wanted to tell you that I’m a smart man.
A smart man who might be useful to you.”
After a long silence, Will spoke first.
“When did you figure it out?”
Falcone smiled.
The candlelight cast shadows across his face, twisting his features into something sinister.
“I wouldn’t say I figured it out.
I merely guessed.
I don’t think the Roman Emperor would make such a reckless move as handing a loaded gun to two suspicious people.”
Falcone pushed his chair away and slowly stood.
He walked toward Will, casually picking up the bloodstained steak knife from the table.
“Yes.
The truth is that obvious.
Plenty of people could have guessed it.
But not everyone has the courage to gamble, especially not someone willing to bet six times without hesitation.”
His hoarse, muddy voice rolled through his throat, sounding particularly unpleasant, like coarse sandpaper scraping across bone.
Falcone came around behind Will, suddenly grabbed him by the hair, and slammed his head against the tabletop.
Bang!
Dazed from the impact, Will felt a knife press against his throat.
The cold metal against his skin raised goosebumps across his body.
The lion was old, but he still possessed astonishing strength.
“I like smart people.
I like brave people.
But I don’t like people who are both smart and brave.
People like that aren’t born to be restrained, and they can never remain beneath someone else forever.”
Feeling the coldness of the knife, Will’s skin prickled.
The massive release of adrenaline made his face flush as his breathing quickened.
It sounded like a statement.
But Falcone was actually asking a question.
Why should I trust you?
This was the final question.
And it was the question that would determine whether the two of them lived or died.
But Falcone could have asked it directly.
Why go around it like this?
Will tried to peel back Falcone’s thoughts, searching for what the old man truly wanted.
His mind raced.
Then a flash of insight struck him.
No.
The person Falcone was talking about wasn’t me.
Nothing I’d done just now was worthy of that kind of praise.
He was talking about…
Him.
The moment Will reached that conclusion, everything suddenly became clear.
He sorted through his thoughts, cleared his dry throat, and spoke.
So I’ll help you get rid of him.
I’ll help you get rid of Maroni.”
Oswald was so agitated that he nearly crushed his own fingers.
He couldn’t understand it.
Their plan to drive a wedge between Falcone and Maroni had already failed.
Why was Will saying the same thing again?
Wasn’t this just asking for trouble?
But in the next second, he saw Falcone put away the knife.
“Bring these two gentlemen another steak.
Medium-rare.”
The old lion returned to the table with a leisurely gait and picked up the phone beside him.
“My dear Maroni, it’s been a while…”
After exchanging a few fake pleasantries, Falcone brought the conversation back to the matter at hand.
“Your men are here with me.
Yes!
They got your money back, but because of those ‘owl cubs,’ they couldn’t finish the job, so they had to come to me…”
Falcone hung up.
Not long afterward, a waiter brought steaks for the two of them.
Oswald was still worried that the food might be poisoned.
Will, meanwhile, was already devouring his steak without the slightest concern for table manners.
He hadn’t eaten properly for several days.
The adrenaline surge had also caused his blood sugar to plummet.
If he didn’t get something into his stomach soon, he could pass out at any moment.
“For certain reasons, I can’t make a direct move against Maroni…”
Falcone glanced at Oswald.
The contempt in his eyes seemed almost to mock Oswald’s foolish idea of using five million dollars to bring down Maroni.
“The best method is to send him to prison.
I want you to collect evidence of his crimes.”
His knuckles tapped lightly against the table.
He seemed to be thinking, but he also appeared to be watching Will’s expression.
“In a few days, Harvey Dent will arrive in Gotham.
He was already a thorn in the side of the criminals back in New York.
His arrival will undoubtedly cause another storm here.
Maroni has been acting far too boldly these past few years, and Harvey Dent will most likely make him his first target.
You can take advantage of that.”
“If you collect enough evidence, you can also hand it over to Gordon or Bullock.”
After saying what needed to be said, Falcone’s expression became more complicated.
He opened his mouth as if he wanted to add something, but in the end, he simply waved his hand.
“Go home after you finish eating.
Maroni may become wary, but he definitely won’t make trouble for you.”
Oswald looked as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and immediately pulled Will toward the exit.
“Wait.”
Will stopped him.
“I want to know what the reward is.
The mission is dangerous, after all.”
Will lifted his head and stared at Falcone.
“You want to talk about rewards before you’ve even completed the job?
Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?”
“You’re a businessman.
You should understand that compared to threats, profit is what really drives a transaction.”
Falcone nodded.
He approved of Will’s thinking.
“All of Maroni’s money and his position.
If you succeed, I promise you two will become the number two men in the Roman Empire.”
“Is that enough?”
It was enough.
This was exactly what Will wanted.