Day 20 of customs clearance
Deathstroke spun around abruptly, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and doubt as he looked at Harley Quinn. The doubt was so intense that even the mask couldn't conceal it.
"The Dionysian Factor?" he murmured, his Adam's apple bobbing in disbelief. "What is he going to do?"
"If I remember correctly, the Joker became the Joker because of the Dionysian Factor?!"
“No doubt about it, it’s exactly what you think,” Harley Quinn said, looking at Deathstroke with pity.
They were equally unlucky, and equally persecuted by madmen.
The Joker's madness ultimately exceeded Deathstroke's expectations.
If anyone else had said this, Deathstroke would have dismissed it as nonsense, but the person sitting in the interrogation chair at this moment was Harley Quinn, the Harley Quinn known as the Joker Queen.
One of the people who knows the Joker best.
She made the already somewhat credible news soar to a 99% probability, with the only 1% being habitual caution.
Deathstroke's knuckles unconsciously tightened around the weapon at his waist; sometimes he truly felt that the world had gone mad.
A few days ago, there was a battle between aliens in New York, which even included a prince from Norse mythology. In just half a day, half of New York was destroyed.
A few days ago, a biohazard occurred in Los Angeles. Oh wait, no, they called it Raccoon City. Deathstroke thought about it for a while but then fell silent. I don't know where Raccoon City came from in the United States.
There was no corresponding place name on the map, and it only appeared for less than a day.
As far as he knew, Luthor was conducting some kind of Superman experiment in Metropolis, something like biological genetics. If Superman didn't discover Luthor's little tricks soon, he'd be in trouble.
Now Gotham is making some Joker clone thing.
He knew all too well that the Dionysus Factor was no ordinary prop; it was the core material for cloning clowns and mass-producing "chaos" and "madness."
Deathstroke suddenly felt a pang of hatred for his past self, who had specifically gathered information about the Joker in order to accept his job, including the Dionysian Factor.
Now, this information is like needles pricking his brain, allowing him to clearly foresee the catastrophic consequences of the spread of the Dionysian factor—Gotham will be completely turned into the Joker's paradise.
He could no longer stand idly by as the city descended into chaos. Perhaps from the moment he accepted the Knight's commission and stepped into the murky mire of Gotham, he should have known that he would sooner or later be drawn into this uncontrollable farce.
The tide of fate is unstoppable, and time will not flow backward according to human will.
We still have to accept reality, even if it always comes at us with two big bruises.
At the same time, in the corridor outside the cell, a cold blue light suddenly flashed on Adrian's retina, and the system notification sounded without warning, the words "mandatory mission" stinging his eyes:
Saving Gotham from a Major Crisis
[Mission Details: Gotham's strongest Joker, feeling bored lately, has decided to summon his "kin" to help him achieve his ambition of unifying Gotham.]
But Gotham's ecological laws have long determined that only one Joker can exist here (in bold).
To maintain order and balance in Gotham, players must help eliminate all unnecessary Joker clones.
Enjoy the game!
[Mission: Assist in eliminating 0/5 Joker Virus infected individuals (Incomplete)]
Adrian frowned and raised his hand to look through the viewing window into the basement.
The space, which had been swallowed by darkness, suddenly lit up the moment Deathstroke stepped in. Miniature searchlights hidden in the corners of the walls turned on all at once, their intense light focusing like sharp swords on the metal chair that had trapped Harley Quinn.
The special lamps hanging high overhead were less like lighting tools and more like torture instruments designed specifically for interrogation, with an astonishingly high wattage.
Harley Quinn's face, covered in paint, was clearly visible under the bright light; every subtle expression was distinct.
Deathstroke stepped forward, his shadow looming over Harley Quinn, his voice icy: "Explain yourself, Harley Quinn. Tell me everything you know, or I'll force you to use methods I shouldn't."
"Oh? What kind of method?" Harley suddenly laughed, the corner of her mouth curving into an undisguised provocation. "Is it the 'merciful' method you used to show mercy to Robin and let him go?"
Her rebellious streak resurfaced. Seeing Deathstroke's unmoved expression, she deliberately dragged out her words: "If you want to get information out of me, you'll have to pay a price, right?"
Deathstroke's expression remained calm, as if he hadn't heard her taunts.
He used to be too lazy to get entangled with Harley Quinn and left without a care; but now, because of his promise, he must know the whole truth, no matter the means.
The bright light suddenly switched to maximum power, piercing directly into Harley's eyes. She squinted instinctively, and two streams of tears slid down her cheeks, washing away her makeup and leaving two messy streaks.
Harley, who was just enjoying teasing Deathstroke, instantly stopped laughing. "You old codger, you can't take this."
Harley managed to maintain her composure, forcing a smile: "Old friend, why are you taking this so seriously?"
"Remember now?" Deathstroke's voice was completely flat, as if he hadn't just committed the atrocity.
"This is just a warning. Hopefully you're tough enough. I look forward to the next 'exchange'."
Deathstroke doesn't think gentle methods will work when dealing with Gotham's criminals. He's an outlaw himself and knows best that they're all a bunch of scoundrels.
Harley blinked hard, forcing back her tears, and put on a bored expression:
"Seriously, you're so boring. I can tell you, but I need to know where Poison Ivy is."
She paid no heed to the sudden furrow in Deathstroke's brow, and her speech quickened:
"After Aisley (Poison Ivy's real name) helped me escape from Arkham last time, she completely disappeared. I don't know if the Joker discovered my betrayal and was driven completely insane, or if he had long been tired of the cat-and-mouse game with Batman."
She paused, then added, "While I don't know the specifics of the Joker and Scarecrow's collaboration, I do know that Scarecrow is developing a new type of poison gas that won't be finished anytime soon. That stuff is an essential part of the Joker's plan; as long as it's not finished, the Joker can't carry out his plan successfully."
Deathstroke stared into her eyes for two seconds, catching a trace of genuine worry in her half-truthful words, and judged that she was not lying.
He began, "I don't know Poison Ivy's whereabouts. But Scarecrow has indeed been active at a chemical plant in the suburbs of Gotham recently. If you have anything else to say, say it all at once. I don't have time to analyze you like Batman."
Harley gritted her teeth and finally decided to remind Deathstroke, "The new poison gas that Scarecrow is developing is more potent than any poison gas before. When you go to find him, you'd better wear full protective gear and make sure it's quick."
"Also, the Joker and his crew should be hunting down Batman vigilantes right now. Once you find Scarecrow, you can check the area; you might find the captured people. Using those little guys to threaten Batman is the Joker's specialty—after all, the Joker has already decided to end the game with Batman, so attacking his weakness is the easiest way."
The death knell paused at the doorway, without turning back, leaving only a chilling warning: "You'd better tell the truth. Otherwise, next time we meet, you'll have to report to Satan, and I think he'll welcome a 'madman' like you."
Closing the door also silenced Harley Quinn's maniacal laughter. Deathstroke felt a heavy weight in his heart, wondering which of Harley Quinn's words were true and which were false, and how much of them were credible.
Adrian had no idea what Deathstroke was thinking; he was currently searching all over Gotham for Scarecrow, Joker virus infected individuals, and bat-like vigilantes.
None of them are easy to find.
The outskirts of Gotham are dotted with chemical plants, each with its own gang leader. The interests involved are complex and difficult to distinguish, and going to each one is like hunting down a deadly enemy.
Even when they mention Arkham Knights' name, they mostly do it evasively, which is annoying.
Eliminating those infected with the Joker virus? Gotham has tens of millions of people; finding them would be easier and more troublesome than searching for a needle in a haystack.
What's most annoying is that the Bat-type vigilantes are extremely concerned about privacy. Apart from a few blurry pictures of Batman and Robin that are so blurry that even their parents wouldn't recognize them, there's nothing else. If it weren't for piecing together pictures from Gotham forums, Adrian still wouldn't know how many good assistants Batman actually has.
A bunch of bird names!!
And why are Broodhaven's vigilantes still active in Gotham?
He didn't understand. Had Nightwing made some shady deal with Batman?
Adrian's eyes widened as he dispatched his men for a thorough search while simultaneously tweaking the system display, hoping to find an important figure and obtain clues that could help him.
Why are even unfamiliar NPCs hostile?!
Does he know any ordinary citizens of Gotham? What he did that caused such widespread outrage and hostility towards him?
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