Zack vs Penguin - As God hand in DC

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Zack carefully dressed in his finest clothes that evening — his black buttoned shirt, the classic trousers he had bought just days ago, his long coat that draped down to his knees, and his shoes polished to perfection. He looked at himself in the mirror, took a deep breath, then said in a low voice:

"It's time."

He stepped out of his base with steady strides, filled with both focus and tension, heading toward the Penguin's "Iceberg Lounge" — this time, not for surveillance... but for execution.

He entered the club with his usual steps, pretending to be nonchalant, scanning the seats, the tables, and the familiar faces he had memorized over twelve days of observation. He sat in his usual spot by the bar and ordered a light drink, just to complete the scene.

Suddenly, Selina Kyle appeared from one of the side hallways, approaching him with her usual cat-like grace, a sly smirk playing on her lips. She spoke in a soft voice as he looked at her without fully turning:

"You seem to be in a hurry tonight, Zack."

He replied in a low tone, barely moving his lips:

"Only an hour and a half left. The mission has to be done. No room for hesitation."

Selina glanced around, then leaned in closer and spoke with more seriousness:

"Beneath this club, there are laboratories... multiple ones, where Penguin conducts his filthy experiments. Chemicals, biological weapon development, anything you can imagine."

Zack gave her a slight nod, prompting her to continue:

"And the house next to the club? It's actually a weapons stash. Everything's in there — from hand grenades to sniper rifles.

The plan's simple... I'll sneak into the lab and blow it from the inside. You go into the warehouse... and do the same.

But you have to wait. Don't move until you hear the first explosion. Only then, you make your move. Wait for the chaos, destroy the stash... and after that, Penguin won't be able to hide. He'll come out himself."

She looked into his eyes deeply, then added in a whisper that was almost inaudible:

"Only then… we end the game."

Zack went silent for a few seconds, then nodded and said:

"Understood. If I don't see you again… just know I enjoyed your company."

Selina smiled and said:

"Don't get dramatic. We'll meet again… after we clean up this city a little, you puffed-up cat."

Then she turned gracefully and disappeared into the crowd of customers, while Zack remained seated in silence, counting the minutes and seconds.

The night in Gotham seemed quiet on the surface…

But underneath, the tongues of hell were slowly beginning to stir.

Zack walked out of the club with calm steps, his eyes constantly scanning and analyzing, carefully inspecting the surroundings of the adjacent building — the one Catwoman had told him was the weapons stash. He stood at the opposite corner, taking cover behind a broken lamppost, then focused his gaze intently...

Several of Penguin's men were patrolling the area — some carrying submachine guns, others standing in front of the doors speaking in confident tones. There was faint movement at the windows too, indicating people inside.

Zack stayed in place for several minutes, observing intently, moving step by step, circling the building from the back, counting the guards, identifying weak points, open windows — every little detail.

Suddenly, the system shouted in his mind, loud and clear:

"You son of a bitch! You're wasting time! Don't you see to the right of the building? There's a ventilation shaft, you idiot, you could've used it from the start!"

A brief silence followed, then Zack said:

"Wow... I really missed you."

The system chuckled lightly and said:

"That's the sweetest confession I've heard in centuries... Anyway, finish the mission first, then we'll sit and talk about your delicate feelings, alright?"

Zack raised his eyebrows sarcastically, then moved swiftly toward the ventilation shaft the system pointed out, saying inwardly:

"Time to set fire to Penguin's nest."

He rushed toward the shaft, taking advantage of a moment when the guards were not fully alert. He crouched and entered the narrow metal passage, crawling patiently despite its tight space and the cold metal brushing against his fancy clothes. His ascent was cautious and slow, weighing every move, making sure he made no sound that could give him away.

After minutes of climbing and crawling, he reached a small opening overlooking the warehouse from above. He opened it carefully and slipped through silently, landing behind a messy stack of wooden crates. The place was dimly lit with yellowish lamps, and the air was thick with the scent of metal and oil.

But he barely had time to catch his breath before he heard footsteps and two men speaking:

"Did you hear that? A sound from the back — let's check it out."

Zack raised an eyebrow and whispered in his mind:

"Summon: Dagger."

With a transparent flash, his black dagger appeared in his hand — sharp and gleaming.

He waited until the two men got closer, hiding behind one of the crates. Then, like a ghost, he struck — grabbing the first from behind, plunging the dagger into his neck, and lowering him quietly without a sound. Then he turned to the second and slashed his throat in one clean motion.

The two bodies dropped to the ground almost silently. No one noticed.

Zack let out a quiet sigh, then began scanning the warehouse with his sharp eyes.

He saw long rows of metal shelves, crates of ammunition, grenades, assault rifles, and strange electronic devices.

In the back corner, he spotted a large black crate with an electronic lock.

He approached it slowly, then whispered to the system:

"Can you open this?"

The system replied confidently:

"Give me 30 seconds... and don't breathe too loud."

Zack slowly opened the crate after the system finished unlocking it, and his face showed both surprise and concern. As soon as he lifted the lid, a set of black cylindrical bombs was revealed — each one fitted with a small digital counter. Some bore clear red warning signs, including a symbol resembling a skull with glowing eyes.

A quick analysis appeared on the transparent screen in front of him:

Analysis:

Type: Toxic Gas Bombs

Effect: Severe hallucinations, panic, loss of mental control

Spread Radius: 300 square meters per bomb

Quantity: 7 bombs

Potential Risk: Extremely High

Exception: Can be stored

The system spoke in a serious tone this time, without any sarcasm:

"Kid, if even one of these goes off in a residential area, it could cause uncontrollable chaos. You need to take them with you and store them immediately. Never leave them here!"

Zack pressed his lips together and said:

"This Penguin isn't just planning smuggling... he's prepping to hit the city itself."

He then placed his hand on each bomb, saying in a low voice:

"Store."

With each touch, the bombs vanished into his personal dimension, safely stored within the system.

No sooner had he finished than he heard a faint explosion in the distance, followed by a light tremor in the walls.

The system said quickly:

"Looks like Catwoman blew up the lab under the club... your turn, hero."

Zack moved swiftly, like a silent assassin, to one of the rear corners of the warehouse, where he had noticed a heavy metal crate marked with a bold red "C4."

He opened it quickly to find several tightly packed charges inside, equipped with wires and ready-to-use timers.

The system immediately said:

"Oh… this is generous! Looks like the Penguin doesn't joke around. Let's turn his own game against him."

Zack gave a slight smile, then began placing the charges one by one — between the crates, near the support walls, and in the critical corners of the warehouse — maintaining a spread that would make the explosion comprehensive and effective.

He took out a final C4 charge, attached the manual timer, then stared at the small screen in front of him and started setting the countdown:

20 seconds…

Zack said calmly:

"Goodbye, bird warehouse."

Then he pressed the activation button.

Like lightning, he dashed toward the small nearby window he had kept in mind from the beginning. He jumped through it with graceful athleticism, rolled upon landing, and took cover behind a pile of metal containers overlooking the warehouse from a distance.

He was watching with sharp eyes, waiting for the decisive moment. Before the countdown hit twenty, the system began counting in his head in a low voice:

"...Five… four… three… two… one…"

Then—

The ground shook violently, pillars of fire and smoke shot up, followed by shockwaves that tore through Gotham's nighttime calm. Windows of nearby homes shattered, and shards of metal crates flew out from the heart of the warehouse.