Chapter 104 Only by combining like terms can we avoid...
Batman instinctively used his arm armor to block the spotlight's beam, pulled out a smoke grenade from his belt, threw it to the ground, and rolled away from the spotlight's illumination.
The spotlight flickered, then found him again, following behind Batman.
“I know you. I know where you’re going, which floorboard you’re going to step on next, which beam you’re going to grab, Bat,” the spotlight shone down on Batman’s back. “See? See? We’re the same kind.”
Batman said nothing, but simply took out the miniature bombs and hurled them hard at the lens of the spotlight.
The bomb exploded, the bracket holding the spotlight rattled under its strain, the spotlight swayed, and the still-burning light swept wildly across the wall before finally crashing down from the roof and crashing down from there.
But this had no effect on the clown; a piercing shriek came from the loudspeaker, and then the clown's voice rang out again:
"Oh, Bat, don't you like the spotlight, Bat?" The clown's maniacal laughter blared from the loudspeaker, shrill and sticky. "I had this specially prepared and shipped over, Bat. Don't you want to supplement your Vitamin D?"
Batman ignored him, pulled out his grappling hook and hung himself from the beam supporting the giant basement, searching desperately for Thomas in the darkness.
But he first saw two figures on the same roof.
“Claw and Penguin,” Batman said in a low voice, a hint of threat in it, “what are you two doing here? How much of this was Nite Owl involved? Where is Thomas Wayne Jr.?”
“You’re not the only one who doesn’t want Gotham blown to bits, Batman. Gotham belongs to us, not some crazy clown,” the Penguin glared at him, but Batman blended seamlessly into the darkness, and the Penguin’s gaze veered off course. “And Thomas Wayne Jr. is right there…”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Thomas Jr. interrupted the Penguin in a low voice, casually placing his hand on the Penguin’s shoulder and tapping it lightly with his sharp fingernails, warning him not to talk nonsense. “The most important thing right now is to stop the Joker.”
He pointed downwards with his other free hand, gesturing for Batman to look down.
"Looks like our little bat is shy. Well then, since you're not willing to introduce yourself first—" The clown's laughter, crackling with electricity, exploded from the loudspeaker, and all the lights in the room came on. "Then give me the stage!"
"That sound is awful," Thomas said, regretting not having put earplugs on beforehand. "I want to sew his mouth shut."
"Go on, Owl, don't just talk the talk," the Penguin urged him immediately, afraid that he would continue to do nothing. "Go down and kill him. I want to get back to my villa as soon as possible to enjoy a hot bath and a delicious seafood breakfast."
The two supervillains didn't care about anything; only Batman remained silent, and only he could notice what was happening below them.
On the metal floor of the underground laboratory, a row of chairs stood, upon which lay several corpses, clown-made-up with grotesque and terrifying smiles. Without exception, their throats had been slit, their tubes stuffed with colorful, cheap candies and popcorn. Their heads were barely connected to their bodies by the remaining flesh on their necks and the support of the chair backs, forcing their murky eyes to stare at the ceiling, at Batman, who was perched on it.
“Our audience must have seen you already, Bat,” the Joker said, standing in the center of a green-painted circle, microphone in hand. “They all love you, Bat, they love you to death! I bet every single one of them wants to shake your hand and then rip off one of your arms to keep as a souvenir. Yes, they’re all very enthusiastic, so I brought them all here.”
“Let me see,” the Penguin said, wiping his monocle with a handkerchief. “Oh, these are all the clown’s henchmen. I remember that one over there, damn it, serves him right for his singing voice. He dared to ignore me when he passed by tonight…”
“Actually, I suspect he didn’t even see you. Maybe he just yawned and accidentally missed you,” Thomas said softly. “But don’t worry, from now on he can only look up to you, Oswald.”
The Penguin secretly glared at Thomas, and this time his glare was spot on.
“Most of them are former gang members. I don’t know when this group went crazy. They painted all over their faces and called themselves the Joker Gang,” the Penguin continued. “Their original leader didn’t seem to be this madman. I have reliable sources saying it was a female clown.”
"Thank you to our audience, and I hope they enjoyed the snacks I kindly gifted them," the clown's shrill laughter suddenly rose, mixed with a piercing electrical hum, which, amplified by the loudspeaker, could almost pierce one's eardrums. "Now it's time to talk about what happened between you and me, little bat."
Batman gripped his batarang tightly, searching the room for Thomas Jr.
“I’ve been watching you all this time, Batman,” the Joker said, standing in the center of the green circle. “The luckiest thing I’ve ever encountered in Gotham was finding you, Bat! Look how interesting you are, the most interesting part of this boring city, closer to a real clown than any circus clown with a painted face I could find in Gotham, Bat! You’re a ruined madman too, you just don’t want to admit it!”
“…This is disgusting,” Thomas said, looking at Batman. “How long are you planning to stand here? Can’t you just get down here and pull his tongue out? I can’t take it anymore.”
“I’ll hold off until I find Thomas Wayne Jr. and the Quantum Bomb,” Batman said bluntly. “Otherwise, you can go down and distract him yourself.”
"Then forget it." Thomas looked away, calmly lowering his head to stare at the Joker, lost in thought.
“…But you dressed like a bat, playing your own games in this silent city of Gotham, even believing in…what was that joke called? I vaguely remember it being a particularly funny word—oh, don’t remind me, John,” a corpse’s neck gave way, letting the head fall. The Joker gestured downwards towards the head. “'Principles'? Hahahaha, I remember now, 'principles'.” The Joker continued his “speech,” “That’s the word! I regret that you haven’t seen the true nature of everything…”
He pressed a button.
The floorboards split apart, reassembled, and a massive bomb rose from the underground cavity.
A person was strapped to the bomb.
“So I’ve decided to do something good, yes, do something good,” the Joker raised his voice. “Your relationships are a huge obstacle for you, little bat. Let’s start here and clean things up more thoroughly… It’s not like you haven’t had friends die before!”
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Author's note: I'm so sorry, I've been a little busy these past few days during midterms. I'll make up for all the missing words.
The Joker is so hard to write; I feel like his madness is going in a completely different direction from mine.
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