"What…? This is too…" Kim stammered, staring at Adam in disbelief. The way Adam leaned on him—cold, direct, and unapologetic—felt less like a negotiation and more like a shakedown. Then again, this was Gotham. Here, even the cops could be scarier than the criminals. The only difference was that they had badges.
Before Kim could finish his thought, Adam coolly plucked a wad of bills from the stack of cash on the table.
"Now," Adam said, his tone ice-cold, "you've got $29,000. Think carefully before you speak again."
Kim's eyes widened. "Wait—what? Has this already started? Don't—don't do this! You're—"
"$28,000," Adam cut him off, taking another chunk of cash without hesitation.
Selina leaned lazily against the counter, flicking her cigarette ash into a glass ashtray. "
Kim," she purred, her voice laced with mock sweetness, "you'd better think carefully. This Mr. Sunday?" She gestured at Adam with her cigarette. "He's the kind of man who doesn't blink at the mafia. If you piss him off, you won't just be dealing with the mob. You'll have the police crawling up your ass too. Fire inspectors, health checks, 'anonymous tips'—they'll have you shut down before you can even serve one drink."
She tilted her head, smiling like a cat toying with a cornered mouse. "And believe me, your few remaining customers aren't going to want to sip sake in a place that reeks of trouble."
Kim's anger instantly deflated, replaced with nervous realization. Selina's words were the final nail. He swallowed hard, his voice turning meek.
"Fine. Whatever you say… I'll take what you're offering. Just… just get me out of Gotham. That's all I ask." The source of this content ɪs ɴoᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt
"Now you're talking sense." Adam's smile returned—sharp and wolfish. He clapped Kim on the shoulder. "See? That wasn't so hard. Agree early, and you don't have to lose a few grand learning the hard way. Don't worry, I'll make sure you leave this cesspool safely."
Kim, finally defeated, muttered a few half-hearted complaints before hurrying home to collect his documents and belongings. He knew better than to linger—this was the kind of deal you didn't stick around to rethink.
For a moment, the bar was quiet, save for the faint hum of the old neon sign outside. It was just Adam and Selina now.
"Got another cigarette?" Selina asked, tossing her hair back. Her tone was casual, but the gleam in her eyes was amused.
"You finished them already?" Adam raised an eyebrow as he handed over the entire pack of Marlboros.
"Naturally. What else did you think I was asking for?" She lit up without hesitation, exhaling a plume of smoke that curled around her face like silk. "Woke me up this early, and now you want me to stay sane without nicotine? Not happening."
Adam watched her, a flicker of guilt passing through him. She'd pulled her weight today. In the comics, she was always portrayed as a master thief, but seeing her up close —handling negotiations, reading people—made him realize just how much sharper she was than most. She'd made his job a lot easier.
Thinking of this, Adam slid the remaining cash from the deal across the counter toward her.
"Here. Your cut, just like we agreed."
Selina didn't even glance at the amount—she just pocketed it with a smooth motion, as if she knew he'd pay up.
"You know," Adam said, lighting his own cigarette, "if you'd held out a little longer, we could've squeezed another three grand out of him."
"Please," Selina scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm not wasting my morning over a few extra dollars. The sooner I finish with you, the sooner I can get back to bed." She noticed him fumbling for a smoke and, smirking, handed him the half-finished one between her fingers. "Here. Don't say I never share."
Adam accepted it, the faint sweetness of her lipstick still on the filter, mingling with her scent. He tried not to think about it too much.
"Hey," she said suddenly, blowing a smoke ring in his direction. "You really planning to help that Korean guy get out of the city? If the mafia catches wind, things could get messy."
"Of course," Adam replied coolly. "I don't break promises. But I'm not sending him out blind. I'll use Black Mask's network—Scarface and his people are running things after Falcone's fall. They'll cover the exits, and the mafia won't cross them." His voice dropped into a casual but cutting tone. "Still, I will give him a fair warning. Once he's out, he's on his own. If he's smart, he'll avoid the major highways and slip out through the backroads. If not… well, that's not my problem."
Selina arched a brow. "Scarface? Who's that?"
Adam smirked. "Forget it. Just a name you'll probably hear soon enough."
He switched topics before she could press further.
"Anyway, Selina, since you've been a huge help, I've decided to put the bar's ownership papers under your name. You'll be the legal face of this place. You'll get monthly dividends, of course, but I'll remain the main investor."
"Oh?" Selina tilted her head, intrigued but amused. "You want me to be your frontwoman? What's the matter, Officer Adam—worried someone might find out Gotham's most 'upstanding' cop is running a side hustle?"
"That's the idea," Adam admitted. "The optics of a cop owning a bar are… bad. But I don't care about the bar itself. I just need the wine cellar for production." He gave her a half-grin. "Besides, you're wasting your nights dancing for scraps. Why not own the place?"
Selina's amber-green eyes narrowed with a sly smile. She yawned, stretching like a cat before turning to leave.
"I'll help when I feel like it. But being the official owner of some bar? Boring. I've got better things to do while I'm young and beautiful."
She glanced over her shoulder, her tone playful but sharp. "If you wake me up early again, Adam, I'll put my claws in your face. Got it?"
And with that, she was gone, her heels clicking lightly as the door swung shut behind her.
Adam stood alone in the empty bar, the smell of cigarette smoke and old liquor lingering in the air. He exhaled slowly, already planning his next move.
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