Axel recovered all the food and drinks that Falcone had wrecked with a joke straight out of Oswald's playbook. After a heavy French meal, he stepped out of the Iceberg Lounge while Oswald watched him go, looking torn between irritation and amusement.
He had barely taken two steps when a dancer stopped him.
"This is from our big sister!"
She popped a piece of gum and handed Axel a business card with a lip print stamped on it. Axel unfolded it and frowned. Another stupid card with just a phone number.
"Big Sister Liv?" Axel asked.
"Of course," she said proudly, hands on her hips. "She's got me under her protection."
Axel blinked at her stance, and then nodded once.
"Liv shouldn't be mixed up with me right now. The Falcone Family's impression of me isn't exactly glowing. She's good at handling heat — tell her I'll reach out when I need her."
The dancer stood rooted to the spot as Axel turned to walk off. Then she called out.
"Hey! Wait! You're not gonna tip?"
"Huh?" Axel paused, blinking. "Tip?"
"Yeah, tip!"
She flapped her hands around like a cartoon, her eyes sparkling. "That move you pulled inside — whoosh! You make it rain. I thought you'd toss cash around for me. I even took off my bra for you, sir. Come on, make it rain!"
She made a ridiculous whooshing motion again, striking an over-the-top pose like a Broadway reject.
Axel stared at her for a beat, then burst out laughing — the loudest, most unfiltered laugh he'd had all day.
He lifted his travel bag and grinned.
"When you first said tip, I wanted to blow your head off. But this? Fucking hell!"
Then he chucked the entire bag at her.
The dancer yelped as she caught it, nearly toppling over under the weight.
Axel, still laughing, wiped his stomach, shaking his head.
"Liv really knows what she's doing finding freaks like you. Go tell her next time I hit the Iceberg Lounge, I want both of you with me. Take ten thousand bucks out of this bag for yourself. The rest is my advance to her for being a damn middleman."
He paused.
"And when I come back, make sure you and Liv wear stockings that feel good. And squat. Didn't you practice picking up money and taking off your bra? I can't let that go to waste, so… take it off!"
Axel pulled his pistol and pointed it at her. The dancer looked at it, shrugged, then checked around. Seeing no audience, she cupped her chest and dropped her dance costume with a bounce.
"Is this enough?" she asked, putting her outfit back on with a cheeky grin.
"Enough for what?" Axel smirked. "But this will do for now. You've got good skin and a decent shape. We'll talk next time."
He waved and started toward the street. The dancer chewed her gum and giggled, clutching the bag of cash as she headed back inside.
Meanwhile, in the warehouse district near the club, Bruce watched from a rooftop lit by the dying sunlight. The dancer's satisfied grin was etched into his expressionless face.
"Because it's stolen money, he doesn't give a shit," Bruce muttered under his breath. "Or maybe people like him don't care about money at all. Maybe he already has something more valuable. Or maybe his whole mindset is… a joke. Maybe he doesn't even see money as his own."
He tightened his ragged jacket, leapt, and parkoured to another rooftop.
Years ago, after Thomas Wayne died, Gotham banned giant billboards and rooftop obstacles. That made it easier for Bruce to move across the skyline with phantom-like grace.
Tracking Axel had become almost obsessive. After seeing Axel's insane skills at the Sabatino versus Dimitrov clash, Bruce never stopped following his trail. Random teleportation or not, Bruce had ways to keep up — and he didn't need to watch Axel directly. Tracking the families who dragged Axel into fights was easier and more effective.
Bruce wasn't wearing his Batsuit yet, but even then his tracking was enough that Axel wouldn't lose him easily.
Completely unaware he was being watched, Axel, pistol still in hand, stopped on a street about a hundred meters from the Iceberg Lounge and fired at a Lamborghini barreling toward the club.
Bang.
The shot cracked against the sunset, making the car screech to a stop.
"What the hell are you looking for, death?" A young man with slicked-back red hair stepped out and leveled a gun at Axel.
Bang.
Bang.
They fired at the same time. Axel didn't flinch — the kid's thigh took both bullets.
"I'm not looking for death, buddy. I'm looking for money. You young rich assholes cruising around in Lamborghinis have to have some cash. All my dough's been donated to the female Bodhisattva boss. Can I borrow some?"
Axel strolled forward, kicked the gun out of the kid's hand, and rifled his wallet. He pulled out over three thousand dollars, tossed the wallet back, and slid into the driver's seat of the Lamborghini.
The girl in the passenger seat shrieked as Axel fumbled with the ignition.
"I only want cash," Axel said, pointing his gun at her. "You two can split and take your buddy to the hospital."
"But… but this car is mine," she stammered, trembling. "His money's mine. The wallet was a gift from me."
"Fuck!" Axel sighed, got out, and shot the red-haired guy in the leg again.
"Ah! My leg! You're insane!!!"
Axel scowled.
"He's not a simp. He's what you call a 'successful man'."
He slid back into the driver's seat and peeled off. The woman in her twenties trembled so hard she practically curled up.
"Can you let me go? I don't want the car, and you can have all the money," she begged. Axel shook his head.
"It's not that simple. But I'm not into your car."
"Then what are you into?" she asked, panic rising.
Axel huffed, reached over, and slapped her thigh with irritation.
She froze for a second, then weirdly lit up, as if the chaos thrilled her more than fear. Being robbed, kidnapped, and possibly assaulted was somehow more stimulating than the weed she'd been trying lately.
Axel quickly pulled his hand back, bored.
"Look at me. I'm a mess. I need clothes that fit. Three thousand dollars won't cut it. I was gonna hit up a few more lucky people, but then I ran into a sugar mommy like you."
He leaned over and patted her thigh again.
"You'll cover me in a bit and leave tens of thousands in change. Be quick. Police will show up soon, got it?"
"Oh!" she paused, face flaming. "My father is on the Gotham City Council. If you want the cops to come later, I can call him. Even if it's an entire night!"
"An entire night? Dream on!"
Axel slapped the back of her head in disbelief. Gotham really was going to hell.