Axel's fingers dug back into Oswald's wound, twisting hard.
"Ah, ah, ah!"
Oswald's scream made the driver flinch so violently the steering wheel shook. Axel shoved the gun straight into Oswald's mouth, cutting the noise off instantly.
"Mmm… mmm…!"
Oswald's eyes widened in pure terror.
Axel pulled his blood soaked hand away, gently tapped Oswald's cheek, and spoke calmly.
"Did you hear what I just told you?"
Oswald nodded frantically, choking on his own breath.
Axel nodded back.
"Good. Now tell me, what happens if I tell you to shut the fuck up?"
He yanked the gun out and slapped Oswald's wounded leg hard.
Oswald bit down on his own arm so hard his jaw trembled. Sweat poured down his face, but not a sound escaped him.
Axel smiled, clearly pleased.
He wrapped an arm around Oswald's shoulders as blood dripped from his fingers onto Oswald's suit. Oswald didn't react. He just sat there, rigid, waiting.
Axel spoke slowly.
"Listen to me, Oswald. Standing next to me, you'll see more glory than anything you've ever touched before. People like Falcone feared talent. The smarter you were, the closer you got to the grave."
He leaned closer.
"Because men like him worship death. They know once someone surpasses them, there's only one way to stay on top."
Axel snorted.
"But I'm not like that. Death doesn't scare me. I don't get jealous of people under me. I don't get threatened. I don't limit my people because I don't need to."
He set the gun aside and tore open Oswald's pant leg. Using the ripped fabric, he started binding the wound himself.
"I take what I want. That's it. I don't make stupid demands. I don't choke my people because I'm insecure. If you grow stronger using my name, good. That just means my name gets heavier."
He tightened the makeshift bandage.
"Everything I see is already mine. That includes you. So I don't care how much you gain through me. If someone touches what's mine, I crush them. Simple."
Axel tied off the cloth.
"What I ask for is basic. Respect. That's it."
Oswald sucked in a deep breath as the pressure eased. He bowed his head.
"Axel… I acted without thinking. From now on, every decision I make will be reported to you."
"No."
Axel cut him off instantly.
"Don't flood me with bullshit. I hate paperwork and I hate idiots who can't think. If it involves someone tied to me, like Liv, you tell me. If it's everyday garbage, handle it yourself."
He glanced at Oswald coldly.
"Don't make me work for you. That's backwards. You're smarter than that."
Axel leaned back into his seat.
"You know where the line is. Don't pretend you don't."
He wiped his hands slowly with a towel, smearing red across the fabric.
Oswald clutched his leg and nodded hard.
"I understand… I'll do my best."
"You better," Axel said casually. "Otherwise I'll replace you, and that's a pain in the ass I don't want."
The car rolled forward in silence toward the Iceberg Lounge.
At the same time, in Gotham's Otisburg District, inside Evanston High School.
Fish Mooney sat by the window, calmly watching gunfire rip through the streets below.
Her people outnumbered Oswald's by a wide margin. Oswald had only ever managed a club. Fish ruled territory.
Centered around the Big Fish Bar, her influence covered nearly three quarters of Otisburg. In a city ruled by gangs, her decisions affected millions.
Gotham had five districts. The Diamond District was rich and small. Arkham Island was overcrowded and poor. The remaining three belonged to the Falcone family.
Falcone held Burnley. Fish controlled the second largest share.
That was why this pissed her off.
Akahara shouldn't have dared to touch her.
The Moksen Family had always been her real problem. European money, heavy weapons, endless reach. She had prepared for them.
Instead, the Moksens went east to clash with Maroni.
And the Japanese and Ukrainian gangs poured into her territory.
Maroni's fingerprints were all over it.
Fish kept her expression calm as anger boiled under her skin.
Over eight thousand enemies had hit her positions. After the initial retreat, she had fewer than five thousand guns holding Evanston High School.
Her main forces were still tied down elsewhere.
Worse, over a thousand of her people weren't fighters at all. Friends, relatives, idiots looking for glory.
She calculated quickly.
If reinforcements didn't arrive within the hour, she was done.
Fish's eyes sharpened.
No. She wouldn't die here.
As long as she lived, she could rebuild.
Her gaze shifted to the students locked inside the classrooms.
Evanston High was a private school. Rich families. Powerful parents.
Human shields.
She smiled coldly.
Those bastards wouldn't dare push her too far.
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