Chapter 14 Chapter 14

There were prison guards in Arkham's high-risk area, and when they came back to work, Megan wanted to hide herself even more, but she always listened to the Joker's orders and asked them to go out and play, and just mushroomed in various corners.

She was just a little kid, not a threat at all, except for the fact that she was the clown's property, which made people wary, and some of the new, ignorant prison guards were ready to make a move...

They come here to work because they need money! At the same time, most of them are scum, such as alcoholics, gamblers, drug addicts, etc. Otherwise, they would not sign the "indenture" handed to them by Arkham. They write their wills before entering and must abide by the rules of Arkham. Otherwise, they will be responsible for their own life and death, and those who leave behind them will not even receive compensation.

But they are prison guards!

My god, even a criminal who caused so much trouble in Gotham still had to be guarded by them;

Oh my God, this simply let their 'vanity' and 'desire for power' come to the fore. They thought they could use this identity to suppress the imprisoned criminals and make themselves 'big shots' feared and respected by the criminals. It was this delusion that easily blinded the eyes of some fools and led them to seek their own death.

There was a prison guard who tried to attack Megan, while the other prisoners just watched. After all, how important was she?

The answer is of course no.

In the eyes of the prison guards, the clown's fun is that the clown is a madman and a freak, and the child he raises has some minor problems. Even if she is dull and numb now, she will become a madman and freak like him in the future. However, she is weak now and can be bullied at will.

To be honest, the criminals in Arkham's high-risk area are still afraid of the Joker, but the new prison guards don't care. They feel that they have power and are in a higher position, so they can look down on and deal with those criminals at will. It is best to vent violence on the weak to prove their "power".

This is the ridiculous thinking of idiots.

…

Megan squatted in the corner, her eyes still empty, only rarely would they be focused. She was slowly sensing the outside world, but she was not interested in people, or rather, she was resistant to them.

She was more curious about the dust on the ground, the spider webs in the corners, and the living or dead moths. They were all unknown and made her feel unfamiliar, and even after many days, she still couldn't fully "recognize" them.

The very young child was squatting on the ground in a small ball, with her spine still protruding. Malnutrition cannot be compensated in a short period of time. Her hands and feet were still very thin, and it looked like they would break with a slight touch. She looked too fragile, and the clown even asked not to damage her, which made some criminals afraid to approach.

But now she is an ideal prey in the eyes of a prison guard who is trying to satisfy his sadistic desires and prove his authority. After all, she has no ability to resist, and the clown may not care about her.

It would be great if he could keep in touch with the criminals, but unfortunately there is no if; if he had a little better brains, he would know that the mentally ill criminals here usually value their goals very much and will not allow others to interfere, but he is a real fool.

Many malicious eyes were watching him in the prison. As he walked through the long corridor, his mind began to imagine his own glory. When he was about to pass that corner and reach the weak child——

A hideous monster hand stretched out, mercilessly took his entire head into the palm and lifted it up. The hard human skull became extremely fragile in his hand and could be crushed with a slight pinch, but he just broke it. The prison guard didn't even make a cry for help, and his legs and hands, which had just been struggled to lift up, fell down limply.

No one truly enjoys the Joker's fun, but Killer Croc is an exception.

The threat was easily resolved by killing someone, which made him slap his tail on the ground and feel very satisfied, because there were no other twists and turns. Just this one idiot was dead and he could be thrown anywhere.

As for attacking and killing police officers? Arkham, whether criminals, guards, or administrators, doesn't care. They're all consumables. It's a giant cage, trapping criminals and everyone else who comes here. No one cares if they live or die; after all, there's compensation to buy their lives.

And just around the corner, Megan heard the sound of the wind.

It was the monster's breathing, heavy and rhythmic, echoing in the prison corridor. Megan wanted to look at the wind, but when she moved her gaze to the ground, she only saw a dark green tail.

The scaly green tail swung back and forth, but Killer Croc didn't notice this detail. He just came to kill someone, and after the job was done, he turned around and left. However, the prison guard still held it in his hand, ready to take it out and throw it somewhere where children wouldn't go.

He walked ahead with muffled footsteps, and she followed.

For every step Killer Croc took, she had to take several slow steps. The distance between them grew farther and farther. Her tail soon disappeared, and the sound of the wind also faded away.

She stopped and stood in the middle of the corridor, still looking at the floor with her head down. Unknowingly, the horrible monster also stopped and looked back at her several times, but in the end there was no intersection between them.

There was no wind, and at a certain moment, Megan heard her own breathing, which was very light, gradually becoming loud and noisy, and then there was a little other sound, rustling, tiny but not to be ignored, but she could not perceive it completely and could not distinguish it.

When Megan returned to the Joker's cell after dinner, he sat on a chair, clapping his knees to keep the beat of the song he was humming. He didn't open his eyes, but knew she was back by the noise made by the little mouse. So did he know what happened in Arkham?

He stopped humming and smiled, asking Megan to come over. The smile on his face was stretched to the extreme. He waved at her, and when she came over, he slowly patted her back, "Good girl! You easily earned the kindness of a monster!"

She doesn't have to do anything to get this kindness. Killer Croc will take the initiative to protect her. The Joker has always known this.

Therefore, he didn't care at all about the prison guard trying to attack Megan. He stood up at this time. He was wearing a bright rose-red tuxedo suit, a green shirt and a bow tie. This was an outfit that most people couldn't pull off, but it suited him very well. He was flamboyant, the one standing on the stage and attracting everyone's attention.

The Joker put some distance between himself and Megan, and looked down at her as she looked up at him. This was the child he had personally trained, the work he was satisfied with, and the gift he had received.

She will bring him surprises, but one must pay something before gaining. The Joker often does things of forcible seizure, but sometimes, before achieving his goal, he will also disguise himself. He certainly understands the principles of this world.

He bent down and held out his leather-gloved hand to her. "Come, celebrate because you're a little better than you were yesterday."

The Joker knew every change in her and he paid close attention to it.

Megan was a good child who would respond to him obediently. She raised her hand and he held it. Then the clown hummed his favorite tune again. After she stood up, she felt tired of raising her hand so high and it kept falling down. So he changed the form. He only extended one index finger. Megan was stunned for a moment and also extended her index finger to face him.

Their fingertips touched each other through the gloves, and the clown's face had a grim yet satisfied expression. He shook his hands left and right, and Megan's eyes and fingers followed him.

She was completely devoted to his command, and no one in the world could be more immersed in it than she was.

Even Batman would be distracted by other things, not to mention that he has little helpers. There are quite a lot of people in the Bat Family, and there are many criminals in Gotham besides him, so Batman cannot be completely immersed in his game. This is unchangeable. But it is not the case for her. Her world is empty, and until now there is only the mark he left.

After entertaining the child for a while, the clown patted her head with boredom and said, "Go back to your room and play by yourself."

But this time she didn't listen. He lowered his head and saw her focused gaze. Those clear green eyes were often unfocused, without any expression of emotion or feeling. She looked completely wooden, but whenever she looked at him, she was extremely serious. She seemed to be curious, exploring and judging something.

The Joker twitched his lips, "What are you looking at, Megan?"

The clown's face and figure were reflected in her eyes, with pale, green and rose-red mixed together, forming a distorted color. She didn't know what to do, let alone answer the clown. Because she was boring, the clown directly abandoned her. Megan stayed there for a long time, and finally returned to her room.

The light in the darkroom was originally dim, but after she tripped herself and bumped into the wall several times, she found a working light bulb. The room was full of the clown's things, and nothing belonged to her - including herself.

Sitting on the edge of the modified bed, the focus in her eyes began to converge and fall on the shadow under the lamp.

She had lived here for many days, gone out and came back many times, and now she made a move without any instructions - she raised her hand, and a dark shadow fell down, slamming heavily into her consciousness and perception.

Megan stood up, wanting to find out where it came from, so she raised her hands high and followed the shadow to climb onto the bed, but it was still not high enough. She seemed to realize that what she was looking for was at a very high place. Although she had no thoughts or logic related to this in her head, she had an 'intuition'.

Standing on the tall, tattered desk, she raised her hand and looked up with great effort.

There was nothing on the peeling paint walls, so she looked at the light on the ceiling.

The light bulb is glowing.

……Light.

Then the rotten wooden table legs snapped, and she fell down, her body hitting the wall and falling heavily, but she seemed to feel no pain. She still raised her hands to slightly block out the light shining into her eyes.

There was a sound next to her, and she turned her head to see the clown walking in with pointed leather shoes and a crowbar in his hand. He came to see why his little mouse suddenly made such a noise today - my God, this was the first time, and he was extremely curious.

The clown walked over and looked down at her, the smile on his face not changing at all, but he said in a creepy tone: "You really give me a lot of trouble. Not only are you noisy, but you also mess up my things."

However, there was another kind of enthusiasm and surprise in his eyes. He threw the crowbar in his hand with a loud bang, squatted down, picked up Megan as if cherishing her, and gave her a hypocritical hug.

He was laughing, his chest shaking uncontrollably, and the low laugh grew into a sharp, wild laugh.

The clown smiled as he looked into her somewhat clear eyes. He reached out and stroked her face, praising her: "I knew you would see it. You will always come to me."

"You are mine, Megan," the clown kissed the child's forehead and repeated, "You are mine."

The author has something to say:

Ugly Master raises a child, very reliable ()