[Kuzuryuu almost snarls something back--could kick his ass, his fucking ass!--but Peko shifts slightly. It's a meaningless movement, just a redistribution of weight, but it's enough to get Kuzuryuu to hold his tongue. There is more at stake here than an argument with a bratty ten-year-old. The boy isn't afraid, and they have no idea when backup might arrive.]

I don't give a shit who thought your head was worth money. I'm not interested in the League. Or in the Batman's little costume club, long as you keep your noses out of our business.

[Not that he has any illusions that they will. Still, he knows Batman and Co. have nothing on him or his associates yet. They can't touch him. That's not how they operate.]

But tell me, kid, you make it a regular habit to impersonate Matches Malone's brat? Or--[And he is sharp, this dragon boy, for all he can't read Damian like Peko can.]--does he even exist?