Naruto:Suna Shinobi

As a ninja, climbing walls and treading water are basic skills.

Ignoring the noise from the bar downstairs, Hiriito picked up the safe he had stolen. Carefully, he climbed out of the window, evenly distributing chakra to the soles of his feet. Moving vertically along the wall with practiced ease, he walked to the balcony. A few quick leaps later, he disappeared into the shadows of Gotham's high-rises.

One Hour Later – Iceberg Lounge (Underground)

This was the casino hidden beneath the Iceberg Lounge, run by the infamous Penguin.

The moment Hiriito arrived, a suited attendant directed him to a private room.

"It's incredible that you escaped from Arkham, Doctor Doll," the Penguin said with a sly grin, puffing on his cigar.

Hiriito, disguised in his true form, did not hide his identity here. His status as an Arkham escapee was valuable—it was like a criminal certification approved by Batman himself.

Thanks to Gotham's relentless media, the helicopter footage of Arkham's chaos and the Batman-Joker confrontation had gone public. Shimizu had become infamous almost overnight, labeled as one of the key masterminds behind the prison break. His newfound reputation as Gotham's rising villain made him both a target and a potential ally for others in the city's underworld.

"Are you interested in working for me?" the Penguin asked, casually adjusting his monocle.

"I prefer working alone," Hiriito replied, setting the stolen safe on the table in front of the crime boss. "Gathering together just makes us bigger targets. You wouldn't want to attract black-winged creatures, would you?"

The Penguin chuckled. "Fair point. But you should know, one of those black-winged creatures—Nightwing—is already sniffing around for you."

Nightwing, now aware that he had been deceived during the Arkham breakout, was actively hunting the escaped prisoners.

A female dealer approached with an electronic scale, methodically counting the safe's contents.

"There are fifty chips in total," the Penguin said after her count was complete. "Normally, I charge a 5% handling fee for transactions here, but I'll waive it for you—consider it a welcome gift."

The Penguin handed Hiriito fifty chips, each worth $10,000. "Happy shopping, my friend," he said, gesturing elegantly toward the door.

Hiriito nodded and left the private room, walking through the noisy casino. He soon found a smaller, unmarked door, stepped inside, and took an elevator down to the second underground floor: the Penguin's black market.

The black market was bustling, filled with people cloaked and masked to protect their identities. Sellers and buyers haggled over everything from weapons and human organs to rare minerals and jewels.

Hiriito donned a black cloak and selected a raccoon mask to blend in. The primary reason he had come here was to find materials for his puppets, though he didn't mind picking up other interesting items.

He examined the various goods with a discerning eye. Unfortunately, most of the materials lacked the chakra conductivity he needed for high-quality puppets.

In the Naruto world, centuries of chakra usage had caused many substances to evolve to conduct chakra well—chakra metal, detonating tag paper, and other unique resources were prime examples. But Gotham had no such history, leaving most materials here unsuitable.

Hiriito frowned. For puppet-making, poor chakra conductivity in the main body wasn't a dealbreaker, but for the chakra hub—the critical component connecting the chakra threads—high conductivity was essential.

Finally, he settled on a few items:

Three ceramic composite bulletproof vests.

A bag of miniature cameras and radar sensors.

Two firearms: a Harding revolver and a Beretta PMX submachine gun.

The guns were intended for modification into his puppets as weapon modules. Altogether, these purchases cost two chips—$20,000.

"You didn't buy much," the Penguin remarked when Hiriito returned. "Were the goods not to your liking?"

"They're fine," Hiriito replied. "But the materials I need are… rare. I'm confident you can help me acquire them."

The Penguin grinned, lighting another cigar. "Ah, I see. You're here for something special. But tell me, don't you have a more pressing concern? Your identity, for example?"

Hiriito met the Penguin's gaze, unflinching.

"Indeed," he said. "I need a legal identity that can withstand scrutiny. I don't want that annoying bat harassing me for a while."

"A legal identity, hmm?" The Penguin tapped ash from his cigar. "I can arrange it for $100,000. Shall I also throw in plastic surgery? Even the best papers won't help if you look like Gotham's most wanted."

"That won't be necessary," Hiriito said, smirking.

He stepped back, lifting his cloak as his hands formed a sequence of seals. With a poof of white smoke, his appearance shifted entirely.

The Penguin's eyes widened slightly, then his grin returned.

"Well, aren't you full of surprises, Doctor Doll?"

(End of Chapter 16)