156-160

Chapter 156: The Unlucky Inspector 

"Hahahaha—" Inside the iron door of the interrogation room, a man's laughter echoed through the narrow space. 

Cody wasn't in the room, but he was right outside the interrogation room door. He could hear the two men talking through the wall, and he could sense that, right at this moment, Riddler seemed genuinely happy. 

"Dozens of people in Gotham ended up in the hospital, Edward Nygma!" 

Peeking through the small window on the door, Cody could see the cop and the criminal inside. Under the dim light, the Black Inspector's face was covered in heavy shadows, looking incredibly grim. He clenched one hand into a fist and slammed it hard on the table in front of him: "So sorry, but I freaking don't see what's funny about this." 

Across from him sat Riddler, wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and slacks. He was almost completely different from Riddler in Cody's universe. 

He wasn't wearing the green costume Cody remembered. His forearms were muscular and powerful, and the muscles in his back made his shirt bulge slightly. It was obvious he definitely hadn't skipped workouts while he was locked up. He might even have decent close-quarters combat skills. 

Cody thought back for a moment. On April Fool's Day, Riddler had been completely hunched over and timid. Compared to the tall and sturdy Sofia, Cody's only impressions of him were "cowardly" and "weak." At most, he'd add a deeply hidden "smart, cunning, only out for himself." Other than that, he had no other impression at all. 

Was this the effect Riddler was going for? Cody wasn't sure, but he thought it was highly likely. 

Riddler raised his head, his sharply defined features exposed in the light. Unlike the Joker's thin and sharp face, his square face and blonde hair actually made him look rugged and substantial. This was a bit different from the typical image people had of a schemer; he seemed more like a fairly smart regular tough guy. 

After hearing the Inspector say, "So sorry, but I don't see what's funny about this," he finally reined in his laughter and replied, "No, I should be the one who's sorry. I know you don't see what's funny, Detective." 

He specifically used the word "Detective," his tone laced with sarcasm. "But you should at least be able to see that this is exactly where my humor lies." 

As he spoke, he casually tapped the open Gotham map on the table. But the bald Black Inspector had absolutely no interest in wasting time with him right now. Plus, being mocked by a criminal for being fooled despite being a Detective, his face instantly darkened. He decided to try and gain leverage over the guy—that kind of strategy always worked when dealing with other criminals. 

"Our deal was, you help me, and then I help you. Since you haven't been any help, I guess I'm done here. See ya, Nygma." 

Before leaving, he turned back with a dismissive smirk. "Guess Gordon was right. Only that Bat can figure out where the Joker's hiding." 

Sure enough, Riddler reacted to that. 

"Wait, please! I can do it—I want to help, I want to help!" 

"Oh?" 

The Detective, who had been pretending to leave, had a smug little smile on his face as he turned away from Riddler. Using a mix of threats, promises, and provocation—that move worked practically every time against criminals. 

"I can solve this better... Anyway, if you can just clarify one thing, this problem will be easy to solve, Inspector." 

"Oh, no problem, Nygma." The Inspector's attitude immediately softened. He pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. "What do you want to know?" 

He had been standing the whole time until then. Only after he felt like he had Riddler cornered was he willing to sit down across from him and talk properly. That was always his philosophy—criminals you couldn't get a handle on wouldn't cooperate. 

Cody, however, didn't think Riddler was cornered at all. It wasn't so much that the Inspector had figured him out, as that the phrase "a puzzle only Batman could solve" had really offended Riddler. 

The provocation worked, Cody thought, but maybe too well. Insulting Riddler's puzzle-solving ability was pretty much the same as calling a musician's playing garbage, or telling a basketball player their skills were crap—it was insulting them in the area they were most proud of. 

Whether it was true or not, anyone who took a little pride in their skills would get angry. And Riddler wasn't just "a little" proud of his puzzle-solving ability—plus, he was mentally ill. 

He looked up at the surveillance camera in the corner of the interrogation room. The faintly flashing red light indicated it was recording. There were already officers watching the entire conversation via the monitors. It seemed like this conversation had some security. 

The conversation in the interrogation room continued. The Inspector sat across from Riddler and asked, "What do you need to know?" 

"Ah, if you could... I mean, you just need to tell me, why does the end of the world never come? Can you?" 

Hearing Riddler ask such a strange, nonsensical question, the Inspector's face showed a confused expression. "Say that again?" 

He didn't get an answer. And Cody saw Riddler's right hand reach toward his waist. Alarm bells went off in his head. 

This is bad! 

In the Inspector's eyes, Nygma suddenly leaped up without any warning, vaulting over the table, and wielding a gleaming, sharp dagger in his hand. 

"I freaking knew it!" 

Cody, whose nerves were already on edge nearby, immediately used the skill "I Didn't Kill Anyone" on Riddler. 

The dagger, glinting coldly, easily slashed the Inspector's neck. Bright red blood sprayed from the artery. That one cut got caught on the jawbone. Amidst the officer's cries of pain, Cody could hear Riddler make an annoyed grunt. 

The dagger was swung again, from the abdomen up to the chest, then slashed at the neck again, and finally the face—stab after stab, no hesitation, no mercy. 

Cody looked at the iron door in front of him, ready to charge through it, but was suddenly pulled away by Ronnie Barron, who had rushed over from the monitoring room. 

"What are you standing around for?! Riddler's freaking losing it! Come on, let's go grab some helmets and weapons!" 

[Ding!] [You have a new Gig available. Please check.] [Mission Objective: Conscientious Watcher. Riddler has been quietly staying at the Gotham Police Station for a year, but now he has suddenly killed an inspector. Of course, everyone can guess what his next step is, but they might not be able to stop it—after all, a smart person must have made preparations before making their move. Note: As an unexpected arrival on guard, you will naturally do your best to stop Riddler's escape attempt. Interestingly, cunning individuals often fall prey to accidents.] [Status: Pending Reward: Intermediate Fighting Mastery, 50,000 USD Asset Points] 

A simple reward, but Cody liked it. 

Chapter 157: What's All That Gibberish? 

Ronnie Barron pulled Cody away from the interrogation room as fast as he could. They scrambled into their bulletproof vests. As he was putting his on, Cody asked, "Why'd he have a shiv? Where'd he get that thing?" 

"How the hell should I know!" 

Ronnie grumbled, tying a set of keys to his belt. "Damn it, we got the Joker blowing up theaters outside, and this lunatic acting up in here—Hurry! Grab a gun and come with me." 

Cody glanced at the keys, his mind working, then grabbed a rifle and ran out after Ronnie. 

"You said he placed bets for you, and you gave him something in return—did he ever ask for a knife, or anything else that could help him break out?" 

"Something to help him break out? Kid, you better watch how you talk!" Ronnie was still running, but his voice was laced with anger. "He never asked for stuff like that, and I'd never give it to him! Only broke idiots like Sanchez or Langford would ever do somethin' like that!" 

"Why weren't you guys keeping your distance from him?" 

"Listen, kid!" 

Ronnie, running ahead, suddenly stopped. He grabbed Cody's ballistic vest and yanked him closer, saying slowly and deliberately, "If you question me again, you're dead, got it?" 

"I'm just curious." But Cody pushed him back towards the interrogation room. His strength was surprising; Ronnie couldn't stop him. "You don't look like you spend a lot, your cigarettes are cheap even, but you'd deal with a nutjob like Riddler for cash?" 

There was another line Cody didn't say out loud—Americans don't have a savings habit. 

Ronnie didn't say anything, his eyes seeming a little dim. He subconsciously glanced at his wrist—he had a pink children's watch there. 

His movement was subtle, but Cody had been watching his reactions and immediately had a guess. "You got a daughter to support? Gotham P.D. salary not cutting it?" 

Ronnie still didn't answer, just kept running forward, pretending not to hear Cody's voice. They moved fast, reaching the interrogation room door in seconds. 

By then, the other guards were also armed. Helmets, ballistic vests, shotguns – eight guys armed to the teeth directly entered the passage room between the interrogation room and the outside. This passage was designed to prevent prisoners from escaping; they could only truly get out by opening the heavy door at the end. 

"Click—" 

Ronnie slammed the iron door behind them shut. The lock clicked into place. Unless Riddler could take down eight fully armed guards with a dagger, he wasn't likely to escape this way. 

So normally, this situation should have been an easy win for the police, but since Riddler chose to make a move, he likely had a plan and was confident he could get out. 

In fact, since most police resources were pulled to search for the Joker, this was indeed Riddler's best chance to escape. But now, eight guys were aiming their guns at the door, which meant Riddler hadn't completely bribed or controlled all the guards. 

A cop subconsciously looked at the iron door behind them. There was no special movement in the hallway outside, meaning no one was coming to break him out. 

So how was he gonna get out? 

While they were thinking, the interrogation room door suddenly opened. 

Nygma, wearing his green bowler hat, walked out. Still in his shirt and slacks, he hadn't even brought the dagger with him. 

Facing eight dark gun muzzles, he didn't seem nervous at all. Instead, he calmly took two steps forward. 

"Get down now, Nygma! Hands spread!" 

"Surrender in three seconds! Or we'll open fire! Three, two—" 

The corner of Riddler's mouth curved slightly. Confident, assured, mocking, sarcastic – in short, he was sneering at his opponents. Then, he let out a little hum. 

"Hmmph—Joanna Elizabeth Sanchez." A name suddenly came out of his mouth. 

"What?" 

"Layla Ann Langford." 

As the second name was spoken, another officer's face showed terror. 

"That's... that's my daughter's name—" 

But Riddler ignored him, his pace quickening. 

"Fatima Habib Lee, Laurie Jane Krupczyk, Tanya Hope Carpenter." 

"Oh God, Laurie—" 

"Shut up, how dare you say her name!" 

"If you touch a single hair on her head..." 

Riddler didn't pay attention to the threats, or pleas, from the armed officers. There were eight officers there, but he listed over a dozen names. It was clear he had extremely detailed information. 

As Riddler spoke name after name, Cody saw Ronnie Barron next to him show expressions of guilt and regret. The color drained from his face bit by bit until, when a woman's name came out of Riddler's mouth, his hand finally trembled and released the trigger. 

Clearly, Riddler's information channel was probably the loose-lipped Ronnie, and the last name he spoke was Ronnie's daughter's name. 

Yeah, such a harmless thing, wasn't it? Just everyday small talk in prison. Riddler made money for the guards, and the guards told him little stories, about their colleagues' hobbies, their home lives, and gossip—what could possibly go wrong with that? 

That's how Riddler deduced their addresses, marital statuses, and important family member roles—including the people they loved most. 

So, when all the names had been spoken, the trembling officers slowly parted, like the Red Sea for Moses. 

"Don't believe him, he probably didn't really kidnap them." 

Riddler shot back, "Wanna bet? Bet I couldn't buy off the goons outside the same way I bought that dagger?" 

No one dared speak up again. 

Riddler looked at the scene before him and couldn't help but hum again. 

"Hmmph." 

However, when everyone had backed away to the sides, the last officer standing in the middle was revealed. 

His helmet was crooked, his uniform messy, and he hadn't even raised his gun. He was looking down, adjusting his clothes, and only after the group parted, exposing him, did he belatedly raise his weapon. 

"Huh? What's up? Did the deal go south? Hold on, this is my first time wearing this, still getting the hang of it..." 

Riddler looked at this unfamiliar officer, his expression shifting from composed, to stiff, to forcing calmness, to gritting his teeth. 

It was just hilarious. 

"A—a rookie?!" he asked, enunciating each word. "A new guy, who can't even wear his uniform right, can't even hold a gun?!?" 

"My perfect escape plan... ruined by an idiot like this!?" 

Cody scratched his head with one hand, displaying a clear, clueless look. 

"What's all that gibberish? Don't understand." 

Chapter 158: Was That Intentional, or Accidental? 

"What are you babbling about? I can't understand a word." 

Obviously, the moment he heard that, the perfect escape plan Riddler had cooked up in his mind was ruined – well, not totally ruined, just… not perfect anymore. 

To put it in perspective, it was kind of like a pool player who'd steamrolled through a tournament, winning every single match, never dropping a point in either the knockouts or the round-robin rounds. Then, just as he was about to sink the final ball for the championship, a gust of wind blew the cue ball off course, making him lose a point. 

Could he still win? Absolutely. That single point didn't stop him from taking the championship. 

But did losing that point sting? Oh yeah, absolutely. He could have won without dropping a single ball – a perfect, ultimate symbol of honor and skill. But now, that perfection was shattered. 

Not all smart people chase perfection, but every crazy criminal in Gotham is definitely obsessive. Seeing his prized perfect escape plan fall apart because of Cody felt instantly awful, like finding half a bug in his lunch. 

But the alarm was already blaring now. Riddler was running out of time. All he wanted was out; he didn't have the luxury of dealing with Cody. 

"Get that idiot out of my way!" he snarled through gritted teeth. "I'll deal with him later – someone open the door!" 

Cody saw the seven officers around him turn and look. Their eyes held a mix of desperation and grim resolve. For their families, they would, to a certain extent, follow Riddler's orders right now. 

"Move it, rookie!" Ronnie's hand shot out, yanking Cody aside. He stepped up to the heavy iron door, fumbling for the set of keys he'd taken earlier, ready to open the way out for Riddler. 

Cody didn't resist. He just went with the pull and stood aside. 

"Hmm?" After half a minute of fumbling, Riddler saw Ronnie was still patting down his pockets. A wave of ominous foreboding washed over him. 

"Time's running out," he said, his expression regaining a semblance of calm. "If you can't find them—" 

"Ronnie, look!" Cody's voice cut Riddler off again. This was the second time he'd been interrupted, and Riddler's face immediately turned incredibly dark. His eyes burned with fury as he looked at Cody. 

Ronnie looked at Cody too, saw him pointing towards the door, and his gaze naturally followed. There, lying quietly on the ground a few feet away from the heavy iron door, was a set of keys, glinting under the lights. 

He was instantly stunned. His mind flashed back to the struggle with Cody moments ago. It did feel like something had fallen off him then, but Cody had been shoving him forward like crazy, running, so of course, he hadn't had a chance to look back. 

He trembled, raising a hand to point at Cody. "You son of a... why'd you pull my clothes just now—" 

"What in the—" At that moment, a furious roar of exasperated anger cut off Ronnie. The sound came from Riddler, standing right behind them. 

Everyone turned to look. His face, which had been dark moments before, was now bright red with surging blood. If someone took his blood pressure right then, it would probably have broken the machine. 

"This is ridiculous, it's completely ridiculous!" He stormed to the door, kicking the heavy iron repeatedly with loud, ringing bangs. "My plan! I worked on this for so long! Ruined because of two idiots! Because of two idiots!" 

Cody spread his hands, his face a picture of innocence. "Didn't mean to," he said. 

At that moment, he loosened his grip on the gun he was holding. 

"You didn't mean to—" The enraged Riddler spun around without warning, stepping and twisting his body to deliver a fierce punch at Cody standing next to him. The punch was fast and vicious, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle. Even someone untrained in combat could tell Riddler knew how to handle himself. 

But Cody's eyes had been on him the whole time. Almost the instant he reacted, Cody instinctively brought his arms up to cover his head and ducked down. 

"CRUNCH!" Hand bone met police helmet in an instant test of which was tougher. The sound of the impact was sharp and distinct, followed immediately by Riddler's sharp intake of breath. 

Yeah, that probably stung, Cody thought, adjusting his helmet and picking up his gun again. 

"Give me the gun! I told you to get his gun for me! I'm going to—" Riddler's roar stopped dead. He saw the cold, indifferent eyes of the seven officers around him – their mindset had completely shifted. 

Letting him escape was one thing, but handing him a police-issue firearm? That was an entirely different ballgame. Not to mention, who could guarantee he wouldn't turn that gun on them – or himself? What's more, the powerful sense of dread Riddler had so carefully built up had been utterly shattered. In this moment, the fear the others felt for him began to drain away. 

Cody, meanwhile, raised his gun again, pointing it directly at Riddler. There was no doubt – he would absolutely pull the trigger. 

The calculation ran quickly through Riddler's mind. It was the same logic as always: if he died by Batman's hand, at least a supervillain could brag about it later. But dying by the hand of an idiot? He'd rather swallow his own gun – at least that wouldn't make him the biggest idiot in the room. 

Riddler glanced at the keys just a few feet from the iron door. It was only a short distance, but right now it felt like an impassable gulf, something he could see but couldn't possibly reach. 

He straightened his hat, turned, and quietly walked back into the interrogation room, pulling the door shut behind him. 

By the time Commissioner Gordon got back to the precinct, Riddler was already locked up again. 

"Well done," he said, clapping Cody on the shoulder. "I didn't realize Riddler was that dangerous. Good thing you were here this time. By my count, you've already earned two commendations, and you just got here." 

"But..." Gordon sighed. "Cody, this incident involved an inspector getting killed, and the guard unit had some serious issues. There'll be investigations, questioning, and psych evaluations soon, I expect. You guys are going to have to take some time off for now – paid leave, I've authorized it." 

Cody just stared at Gordon, dumbfounded. He hadn't planned on staying in the restrictive police system for long anyway and didn't mind going home for some time off. He just hadn't expected to get back on vacation so fast, like at light speed. 

"What about the officers' families? Are they okay?" 

"Riddler must have realized he had no chance of getting away again," Gordon said. "He gave us a cancellation code, and in the end, no one got hurt. The guys he hired outside got away pretty fast, though. We didn't catch many of them." 

That afternoon, a bored Cody was walking down the street. Normally, having time off was great, but when he saw the news playing on the big screen downtown, he suddenly felt like nowhere was safe out on the street. 

"We interrupt this program for a news update: There's been an attack at the Joke Factory by Joker. One police officer, one civilian, and over a dozen comedians have been hospitalized. At the crime scene, a joke was left written in blood: 'Why was six afraid of seven?'" 

It was getting late. He watched the news, and suddenly remembered the earlier conversation between the inspector and Riddler. When Riddler had said, "That's the punchline," hadn't he reached out and tapped the map on the table? 

"System, pull up the Gotham map that was on the table earlier. Mark the location Riddler pointed to." 

[Understood. Retrieving...] [Retrieval Complete.] 

Chapter 159: Nygma's Shock Troop Prison Break, Disaster Star Recaptures the Riddle 

Cody pulled up his system log panel and, for the cost of one asset point, brought up the Gotham City map that had been on the table earlier, along with the location Riddler had pointed to. 

"The Unikorn Theater? That's where Joker attacked early this morning. I was still inside..." 

[DING! System new product "DS Smart Analysis" now available for trial. Would you like to try it?] 

"Huh, okay, the system's catching up, even riding the DS hype train." 

[Analysis complete. Attack locations: "Unikorn Theater, Joke Store, Comedy Movies, Talk Show, Joke Factory...". Analysis complete.] 

[Analysis result: Hidden composition - Joker Without a Nose.] 

Cody watched as the system connected the locations on the Gotham map that Joker had attacked, ultimately forming a simple image of Joker – except it was missing the red nose. 

"Nice, that's very Joker." 

Why couldn't the Gotham City Police Department see this pattern? The reason was, of course, quite simple, just like the question Riddler had posed earlier – Why does the end of the world never come? 

"Because the Earth is round," Cody grumbled. "Who thinks like a riddle to solve a case like this?" 

But Joker would use riddle logic to commit these crimes. 

Although the police radio was silent about any further Joker attacks at this time, Cody was certain Joker wasn't finished yet. He looked at the spot on the map where the nose should have been. It seemed to be a tall skyscraper, easily over a hundred floors high. 

"Where the heck am I supposed to look on a building this tall...?" 

Just then, the big screen downtown showed another news flash. 

"Breaking News Update: Approximately ten minutes ago, a group of gangsters used explosives to blast open the cells at the Gotham City Police Department. Police shot and killed three of the suspects, but the remaining criminals escaped. The inmate known as Riddler is missing. Citizens are advised to exercise caution..." 

Cody: "..." 

Unbelievable, he thought. The signal Riddler gave wasn't a termination code at all. It was the activation code for Plan B – the prison break. 

Gotham PD was really having a rough day. Cody could practically feel the tidal wave of public outrage they were about to face. Gotham citizens, hearing that Riddler had attempted two escapes in one day and actually pulled off the second one, would probably drown the precinct in spit. 

[DING!] 

[You have a new gig available. Please check.] 

[Nygma's Shock Troop Prison Break, Disaster Star Recaptures the Riddle 

Mission Brief: The Sage once said, "While your parents are alive, travel not far away; if you travel, you must have a definite direction." This means that when your parents are around, bratty kids shouldn't wander too far, and if they do, there's definitely a way to drag them back. And for the calculating Riddler, encountering this recurring disaster star who always shows up unexpectedly is certainly enough to make him instinctively curse, "Motherf—cker." 

Note: As an officer currently on leave, you are still required to use all your effort to apprehend the recently escaped Riddler and return him to prison. 

Interestingly, calculating people eventually learn a second truth: accidents, like tomorrow, are unavoidable. 

Status: Pending Completion 

Reward: Special Skill "Feigned Death"] 

"Well now, isn't that a rare find." Cody couldn't help but give a little hum as he looked at the gig reward. 

Gotham's nights were a kaleidoscope of lights. On a busy street in the Burnley district, a red taxi was heading towards the direction of the skyscrapers. 

"A guy walked into a toy store and said he wanted to buy a new boomerang. Then he asked the clerk, 'How do I get rid of the old one?'" 

The taxi driver, who was driving, didn't react at first. He paused for two seconds before realizing the person in the back seat had just told a joke. 

So, to lighten the mood, he immediately burst out laughing. 

"Hahahaha—" He laughed, looking back to join in. "Hey buddy, that's a really funny joke!" 

However, the passenger in the back didn't seem to agree with his opinion. 

The car drove down the street, and a streetlamp happened to pass by, its white light shining through the window into the car, illuminating the pale figure in the back seat with a downturned mouth. 

It also illuminated the glinting muzzle of the revolver in his hand. 

"No, it's not funny." 

BANG! 

A gunshot echoed, and the red taxi's front windshield instantly shattered into pieces. A splash of red sprayed from the shattered hole, and a spiderweb of fine cracks spread out, obscuring the exact situation inside the car. 

Screech— 

The driverless taxi immediately lost control. Its tires screeched against the pavement as it swerved towards the sidewalk. 

"Ah—!" 

"Look out!" 

Screams and shouts of warning rang out simultaneously. Panicked pedestrians turned and ran, scrambling to avoid being hit by the out-of-control car. 

BOOM— BANG! 

Another car coming from the opposite intersection was caught in the crossfire, stopping dead after being struck by the taxi. The taxi itself was even more terrifying; scraped on the side while speeding, it completely lost balance, even spinning through the air before crashing headfirst into the plaza's fountain. 

The pedestrians shrieked in panic, fleeing in all directions from the plaza. A few unlucky souls were knocked down by the taxi's spinning chassis, hitting the ground hard and bleeding from their heads. 

The crowd gathered at a safe distance from the wildly crashed taxi, wanting to know what had happened. A moment later, a green-haired man in a black suit crawled out of the twisted metal of the car and the scattered wreckage of the fountain. 

"Ugh..." He clutched his left cheek, feeling a burning pain between his brows. He raised his hand to look, and his purple glove was stained dark red with blood. 

I thought that would be funny, he mused. After so long, after killing so many, with so many wanting me dead. Then, on a beautiful night, just snapping my own neck for no reason in the back of a car. 

It should have been hilarious, enough to make me smile in my grave. 

But now, Joker walked out of the fountain, his face glum. 

No, it's still not funny. 

He stumbled away, heading towards the entrance of the building. 

And just after he entered the building, a figure dressed in a dark green suit also arrived downstairs and walked purposefully towards the entrance. 

He was whistling, his expression completely relaxed, muttering to himself. 

"Someone wanted to enter a store, but the doorman wouldn't let him in. So he eavesdropped on someone else talking to the doorman, trying to figure out the password." 

"The doorman said 'twelve', the guest said 'six'." 

"The doorman said 'six', the guest said 'three'." 

"Confident he understood, he stepped forward. This time the doorman said 'ten', and he replied 'five'." 

"He was turned away..." 

DING— 

The building's elevator chimed. Seventy-eighth floor. 

"He thought it was math, but it was a riddle – asking for the number of letters in the word. Fools are always like this, seeing one leaf and thinking they understand the whole autumn." 

Having finished his joke, Riddler reached the large door of the building's upper levels. He gently pushed the door open. "Knock knock." 

And a figure was waiting there. "Who's there?" 

Meanwhile, downstairs in the building, a figure in a suit and jeans also stepped into an elevator. 

"Come in! Hah, Riddler's elevator is on the seventy-eighth floor! Guess I don't need to solve the riddle after all!" 

Chapter 160: One Without a Clue, One Not Amused 

Riddler, clad in his green suit, stepped into the room. It was midnight, and the bright, clear moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the lavishly decorated room almost like daylight. 

Joker sat silently behind a wooden desk. On the desk lay an extinguished lamp, an empty photo frame, and an open book, making the surface appear both simple and not empty.  

Across from the desk, a comfortable chair was placed. 

The entire room was empty, with only one person, one desk, and one chair. Yet the room was spotless, and the desk had been carefully arranged. Even the seating was interesting, offering both a view of the clear moonlight and the distant, incredibly bright Bat-Signal in the Gotham night sky. 

Without a doubt, Joker had a guest—a guest worthy of his careful preparation. 

But not Riddler. 

Riddler didn't care. He surveyed the room, then walked directly to the chair opposite the desk. 

"Knock—knock." 

"Who's there?" 

"An answer." 

Riddler looked at Joker 's sullen face. Though he sat quietly on the stool and the wrinkles on his flamboyant outfit had been smoothed out, Riddler could still sense an undercurrent of impolite disdain in these polite details. 

But as mentioned before, Riddler didn't care. 

"Before I give you the answer, wouldn't you like to know how I solved the riddle you left behind?" 

Ignoring Joker 's answer, Riddler continued. 

"The riddle you left for him, the pattern on the map, the clown's nose, and—why is six afraid of seven?" 

"Because seven eats eight and nine, six runs away scared, nine is eaten, so only 78 remain—but I didn't just see these things, I saw through everything, I know you can't laugh anymore." 

A smile spread across Riddler's face. 

"It's hidden in your pattern of behavior, hidden in the way you attack Gotham: the Monocle Theater, the Joke Shop, comedy movies, stand-up routines, the Laughter Factory… By luring him to you, you were also seeking humor." 

Joker remained silent, his eyes glancing sideways at Riddler. The corners of his mouth were still down, and his expression still seemed quite unhappy. 

"And it's all because of him, isn't it? The punchline must be unpredictable, that's what makes them funny. But now that he's here, everything can be predicted. He always sees through the fog, he always defeats you." 

"You need to laugh, otherwise, who are you? But as long as he's out there, you can't laugh—unless you kill him. You feel like you have to kill him." 

Joker remained silent. 

"You don't know, I feel the same way. All riddles... after he appeared, they all seem meaningless." 

"I can solve everything, but I can't solve him. But if there's a riddle I can't solve, I have to solve it anyway, otherwise, who am I?" 

"I saw your plan, so I didn't stay in prison. I had to come out and talk to you—only if one of us succeeds, the other's wish will never be fulfilled. So, one of us has to prevail. Either you kill me, or I kill you. The survivor will be the one qualified to take him down. And the worst part is, 

In this three-person war, he will have the last laugh." 

"But there is another way, my friend, a clear and unmistakable path." 

Riddler said, his fist clenched tightly, his voice filled with unusual excitement and conviction—or perhaps a hypnotic quality. 

Then he painfully covered his hand. 

Damn it, that hurts. That bastard's helmet is too hard. 

He contorted his face to suppress his cries of pain and continued. 

"You and I, jokes and riddles, we don't fight, we solve riddles together, we laugh together." 

He lowered his head, looking into Joker 's eyes, and said word by word, "We—together—kill Batman." 

Facing Riddler's smile and the flickering, eager light in his eyes, Joker finally uttered his first words. 

"Hmm." 

Seeing that Joker was somewhat moved, Riddler continued, "I can see every step of any layout, 

This is what I'm good at—and this step is the only way out of our dead end." 

Hearing this, Joker finally withdrew his gaze and looked at the page in front of him, making a decision. "Yes, you're right, joining forces is the only way to make me laugh again." 

A satisfied smile spread across Riddler's face. 

"Well, how about this?" 

With Joker 's words, a revolver was pressed against Nygma's belly, which quickly transformed the smile on his face into surprise and anger. 

"Wha—" 

Bang! 

The shot Riddler fell to the ground, moaning in pain, clutching his wound. 

"No, this doesn't work either... it's still not funny, huh." 

Joker let out a disappointed and angry sound, then stepped over the moaning Riddler and walked towards the inside of the building. 

"Now, about you... well, maybe he can survive if he comes now? I don't know." 

"Seventy-sixth floor, whew... 

Meanwhile, Cody was climbing the stairs. He was slightly out of breath. 

"Damn Riddler, he's such a jerk. All the elevators were pressed to the top floor, and waiting for them was slower than me climbing the stairs—but climbing stairs is so tiring..." 

He raised his hand to look at the time on his phone. He had been climbing for three full minutes and was finally about to reach the seventy-eighth floor—if he didn't have the physical enhancement, he would probably have collapsed on the tenth floor. 

"Two more floors, almost, almost, whew..." 

Just one more nap. 

The dark bat flew through the Gotham night, filled with regret. 

He didn't know if it was a reward for what he had done for Gotham City over the past year. Since the crime rate had been declining month by month, Gotham had also welcomed the long-lost sunshine. And it was this morning, as he watched the rising sun, that he decided to treat himself to a good night's sleep. 

Alfred had returned to England temporarily, so he was the only one in the mansion. This also gave him a sense of relaxation that he hadn't had in the past year. 

He turned off all his electronic devices and went into undisturbed sleep, something he hadn't done in the past year. 

But it was precisely today's events that filled him with regret. 

Riddler was kidnapped, Joker attacked hundreds of comedians… He thought to himself, if I hadn't turned off the communication equipment, I should have woken up in time to prevent these crimes. 

He saw Commissioner Gordon's Bat-Signal and wanted to fly towards the top of the Gotham City Police Department building. But at that moment, he heard the sound of the police radio—this was also one of the alarms he had originally set. 

"Bernley District—a red taxi suddenly lost control, drove onto the sidewalk, and directly into the fountain in the square. The driver's condition is currently unknown. A passerby reported that a suspected passenger, possibly Joker , left the vehicle and entered the building next to the accident scene..." 

This alarm immediately changed his mind. He immediately swooped down, jumped into the Batmobile that had been following him all along, and drove towards the scene of the incident at full speed.