Sukuna In Dc

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Location: Iceberg Lounge – Penguin's Club, Gotham Docks

Time: 2:41 A.M.

....

The club pulsed with Gotham's elite — politicians, criminals, influencers, and out-of-town millionaires — all wrapped in silk and sin, drunk on expensive cocktails and ego. The Iceberg Lounge wasn't just a nightclub. It was a neutral zone, a money hub, and a haven for the filthiest souls dressed in gold-plated suits.

But tonight, it was a target.

Katana stood still as stone beside Jason, both surveying the club below.

"Why me?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the guards circling the entrances.

Jason smirked. "Hmm… How do I put it?"

He stepped beside her and gestured toward the glowing club entrance.

"An electric wild girl, a lunatic, and a hot-headed murderer. None of them are suited for this mission. We're not wreaking havoc tonight. That would start a war."

He glanced at her.

"But you and I — we're whispers in the dark. They'll never know we were here. Gotham needs to fear that The Cursed Ones can come… even when they don't expect it."

Katana gave a small nod, her blade already half-drawn in agreement.

...

Jason dropped into the alley, switching effortlessly into his suit and fake persona — Jason Anderson, billionaire trust-fund kid with nothing better to do than party his legacy away.

He strutted to the bouncer like he owned the place.

"Reservation under J.A."

The bouncer scanned his list.

"We've got a Jason Allen?"

Jason winked. "That's me. Allen, Anderson. Rich guys don't care about spelling."

He flashed a black credit card — custom-made, courtesy of the Anderson family.

"Let's keep the champagne flowing."

The bouncer stepped aside.

Meanwhile, Katana slipped through the roof access, silent as death. One rooftop guard blinked, reached for his radio — and bled before he could touch it. Her blade was already clean by the time he collapsed.

...

Jason melted into the crowd effortlessly. Girls flocked. Guys envied. The DJ dropped another track, lights spiraled, and Jason drank a $700 glass of whiskey with the smug grin of a man who'd never faced hardship in his life.

It was the perfect mask.

Two club managers whispered to each other, then approached.

"Mr. Allen, our VIP Section suit a man like you much better. Please, come this way."

Jason smiled. Hook, line, and lead me to the penguin.

....

Same repeated in the VIP Section, Money wasting and drinks...But Suddenly Jason had to go take a leak...Reason being...He had to go to the VVIP section, the hidden one

The VVIP section was behind two steel-reinforced doors, soundproofed, and monitored. Inside, the air changed — quieter, colder, more expensive.

Problem was...The Guard that's supposed to be there...Wasn't? Perhaps there's a Silent Assassin around opening doors to Jason?

Jason Entered

And there sat Oswald Cobblepot — The Penguin — in a velvet-lined chair, smoking from a gold cigarette holder and looking like a fat vulture in a tuxedo.

Jason sat next to him casually.

Penguin scowled immediately. "Who the fuck are you?"

Jason smiled. "Just a man who appreciates good company."

Penguin didn't reply. He gave a flick of his head. Two large guards stepped forward silently to escort Jason out.

That's when it happened.

Two dull thunks echoed.

Both guards blinked, then collapsed.

Heads removed. Blood pooled.

Katana stepped forward from the shadows, blade glowing with faint mystic energy.

Penguin flinched, trembling.

Jason leaned in, wrapped an arm around the stunned mobster's shoulders.

"You know…" he began, voice dropping into something cold. "I was honestly conflicted about tonight."

Penguin breathed like a dying fish.

"Sparing you makes sense for business. You're efficient. Tolerable. You offer good backing and solid information."

Jason's smile faded. His words sharpened.

"But you're also a detestable man. You don't believe in loyalty. You serve whoever pays best. That's not good for a kingdom, Oswald."

He nodded once at Katana.

She placed a crisp legal document in front of Penguin.

Jason continued:

"This is a notarized contract. It says you sold this club to me last week. The funds have already been transferred. Government records are processed. All we need now…" he nodded again.

Katana placed a pen gently on top of the paper.

Jason smiled sweetly.

"Well, I'm not going to tell you what to do. You'll do it on your own. After all — your life depends on it."

Penguin's hands trembled. He stared at Katana's blade. Then at Jason's eyes.

He signed.

"You gonna let me go now?" he asked, pitiful, eyes glimmering with hope.

Jason tilted his head.

"Nah. I don't feel like it."

"Wha—?"

BANG.

The shot was clean — straight between the eyes. Penguin slumped sideways.

Jason sighed.

He stood up, pulled out a small pouch from his coat, and sprinkled crushed pills on the table.

Then he carefully wiped the gun and pressed it into the corpse's hand.

"Poor Oswald. Depressed. Struggling after a business deal gone wrong."

He fixed the scene — everything pristine. No trace.

He looked at Katana.

"Call Nia. Tell her to send the cleanup crew. And the replacement guards. We own this place now."

Katana said nothing — only sheathed her blade and nodded.

...

The morning sun bathed Gotham in a dull orange hue, but the city's chaos never truly rested—not even under sunlight.

Jason sat alone in the living room, sipping black coffee, one hand flipping through reports on a sleek tablet. The news was on in the background, volume low but loud enough to catch his attention.

"Good morning, Gotham. This is Vicki Vale, and you're watching GNN — your number one source for morning news."

Jason's eyes didn't even flick toward the screen—until the next line.

"Breaking news out of the Iceberg Lounge, where the infamous Oswald Cobblepot, known to most as The Penguin, was found dead last night in what officials are calling an apparent suicide."

He glanced up, a faint smirk touching his lips.

According to the broadcast, Penguin had been discovered inside his VIP suite at approximately 2:30 a.m., his body slumped over the table, gun in hand, pills scattered nearby. The narrative was perfect. Clean. The GCPD had arrived too late to question anything. Even the guards on site had testified to his depression and erratic behavior after selling the lounge for half its value.

The footage cut to police lines and coroner vans, all perfectly in place. No mention of the Anderson name. No suspicion. No trails.

Jason let out a quiet chuckle and leaned back on the couch, satisfied. Gotham's morning news always made for good entertainment when you were the one writing the headlines.

But the report wasn't done.

"In other news, chaos erupted at a downtown courthouse late last night. Harvey Dent—also known as Two-Face—was found dead after a violent, unexplained confrontation."

Jason's expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed slightly.

"The GCPD is still investigating the attack. No suspects have been named. However, footage and eyewitness accounts describe the attackers as resembling a small, coordinated team—some say vigilantes, others say heroes. One thing's for certain: Gotham has never seen them before."

That part, at least, was accurate. The Cursed Ones hadn't officially revealed themselves. Not yet.

Then came the real gem—the cherry on top.

"And finally, today at 1 P.M., Gotham's City Hall will officially unveil a new government-sponsored superhero initiative. The team is said to be privately backed by none other than philanthropist Dominic Anderson."

Jason smiled wider. Everything was coming together exactly as planned.

Villains were dying.

Territories were falling.

And soon... Gotham would belong to the Andersons.

Through power.

Through control.

Through both the shadows... and the light.

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If you Like this story! Check out my other storys ! Lord of Chaos In Dc! and Dragon Slayer in Marvel!

AND

If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patreon at

"https://www.patreon.com/Riadooo"

You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !