An Address from Oswald Knight, The Gentleman Penguin
“There is a quiet, underrated pleasure in watching a man arrive late to his own story. It has a theatrical charm to it — almost Shakespearean. A hero, drenched in nobility, marches into a battlefield long after the war has changed, still convinced that a sword forged for a bygone era will save him. He presents himself with passion, conviction, righteousness… and not an ounce of awareness.”
“Lightning Man, you’ve arrived to fight the Oswald Knight who existed months ago.”
“The boy with nothing but ambition, a handshake, and a well-tailored coat.But I am not him anymore. You, however, are the same speech with a different coat of paint.”
“You keep calling me “coward.” You keep calling yourself “hero.” You shout my name from a rooftop like a detective in a comic book who never learned to read the next chapter before turning the page. You burst through imaginary doors, pointing imaginary guns at imaginary goons, demanding answers that were outdated before you finished the first sentence.”
“It’s… adorable.”
“Really, it is. I don’t mock you out of hatred.I mock you because your ignorance is almost poetic.”
“Let us examine your grand claims:You say I lie.You say I hide.You say I betrayed you.All fascinating declarations — coming from a man who has not bothered to understand a single thing about the opponent he claims to hunt. You talk about “saving people,” about rushing to help an injured stranger in a high-speed chase. A noble gesture, truly. But let me share a secret with you: A hero who stops to rescue every stranger will never catch the real villain. Because the villain is always moving. Always building. Always planning ahead while the hero wastes time saving the world one well-edited scene at a time.”
“You claim that I betrayed you in the Ronin Rumble.Let’s revisit that handshake, shall we?You offered your hand with pride, honour, and conviction.You declared that you would watch my back.And you did.For a moment.You saved me in the match. You “kept your word.” And then, like a dutiful hero, you expected the world to reward you for it. You expected gratitude. You expected cooperation. You expected morality.”
“I did not shake your hand because I believed in you.I shook your hand because I knew exactly what it would cost you.”
”Heroes always assume the world owes them something for being noble.You offered protection.You offered integrity.You offered virtue.I took it.And then I eliminated you.And what exactly did you expect? For me to bow to a man whose entire personality is self-sacrifice? To kneel and thank him for saving me? To repay your kindness with loyalty?You mistake your values for universal currency.But you mine the wrong veins, Lightning Man.Your belief in “goodness” is a commodity that has plummeted in value.”
“You accuse me of hiding the truth.No, sir.I am the only one in this company who does not pretend.I stole your alliance.I exploited your morality.I discarded your usefulness.If that offends you…You mistook honesty for honour."
“I never promised loyalty. You assumed that it was something you were owed. Foolish really.”
“Heroes always expect a thank you note. I owe you nothing.”
“And now, you stand on a rooftop, ready to “bring Knight to justice,” ready to tear the Youngblood Championship from my hands to punish me for my lies.”
“You are not doing it for justice.You are doing it because you were humiliated.”
“Your chase is not moral. It is personal.”
“You do not want to save the company.You want to save face.”
“And that is why you will fail.The ring you want to steal from me is not a trophy.It is a key.Power I am already using while you chase imaginary villains in flashbacks.”
“You talk about destiny.I talk about control.”
“You talk about saving this place.I talk about owning it.”
“You talk like the sun. I work like the night.”
“You bring lightning.I bring the storm that follows it.And here’s the most elegant irony of all:While you hunt the Oswald of yesterday, unaware of who I am today…I already know who you will be tomorrow.A loud, earnest man fighting shadows on rooftops, believing he is protecting people who never asked him to, against villains who are already two steps ahead.”
“A hero who doesn’t understand that the world moved on.Lightning Man, you are not the adversary you think you are.You are the epilogue to someone else’s chapter.When we step into the ring, do not expect a battle of good versus evil.Expect this:You will fight for truth. I will fight for cold precision.”
“You will shout at thunder.I will turn off the lights.”
“You will try to save the company. I will own it before you finish your speech.”
“You will bring lightning.I will bring the conductor rod.And when it’s over…You will learn that thunder is just noise.But I?I am the strike.”
–Oswald Knight. The Gentleman Penguin.
The lights are dim. Tools glimmer under a single hanging bulb. A metal rod rests on a workbench — long, slender, polished black. Not a weapon. Not a blade.
A conductor rod.
Oswald stands poised over the rod.
He tests its balance. Flips it in his hand.
A spark — tiny, harmless — jumps between metal and skin.
Oswald’s expression doesn’t change.
Lira steps into view, leaning against the doorway.She doesn’t speak. Only watches.
Oswald slowly lifts the rod, levelling it as though pointing at a horizon no one else can see.
OSWALD (quiet, confident):“Lightning strikes where it’s invited.”
A long, effortless pause. He sets the rod down beside the Youngblood Championship.
OSWALD:“And I always choose the placement.”
Fade out.
“Some men prepare for a fight. Others prepare the ending.”
