Chapter 800: Deadly Joke (Complete) (Patreon)

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"In just these short two months, Batman, you've witnessed the darkest side of this city, or perhaps not even the darkest side yet. After all, you've brought more than just an umbrella with you."

"Before you came here, you mastered various martial arts, made countless inventions, kept yourself fit and healthy, possessed an incredibly agile mind, and had no vices."

"You might have thought of yourself as a lone adventurer, experiencing life, but in reality, you had more than anyone else here."

"With all your talents, you came to Gotham's slums and saw how the people here live. That's when you realized that you wasted the first dozen years of your life."

"As long as there's a soil of wickedness, poisonous weeds will grow. No matter how many flowers you cut, you can't stop thousands of seeds from taking root."

"You felt despair because of this, and as a failure, you tried to console yourself with a bitter smile. But deep down, you didn't really want to smile; you were just poorly imitating..."

Schiller stood there and touched his ear, saying, "I didn't hear you wanting to laugh, so that smile you showed was quite repulsive."

"But now, you can genuinely laugh because I am a forgiving person, the most forgiving person in all of Gotham. Even if you're lying in front of me now, I won't harm you."

"Instead, I'm more than willing to send you back to Wayne Manor, where you truly belong."

"There, you'll have everything you need – food to fill your stomach, medicines to treat your wounds, a bed to rest in, safety, comfort, warmth. It's time for you to do this."

"You've already seen it, haven't you?" Schiller spread his hands and said, "You've already turned yourself into this. You've experienced the hardships of the people in the slums. Isn't that enough?"

"If I send you back, tonight, you can put on the bat suit again, stand on the rooftop of Wayne Tower, and empathize with the people with an even deeper heart. This time, you haven't given nothing. The physical and mental toll is almost permanent. You've given too much for them..."

"You actually don't need to do this. They don't deserve it. Your kindness has left you battered here, you've held onto your principles, while they resort to any means necessary."

"What drove you to do this? Your kindness, your great sense of justice, which keeps you from doing anything illegal even in the slums. This is your moral bottom line."

"The people in the slums can't give you anything, but you're willing to give so much for them, willing to endure their suffering. It's enough..."

"So, another Joker is willing to offer you some money, but I can do more. In your current condition, nearing your limits, I can send you back to Wayne Manor for a good rest."

"Soon, Alfred will bring you steaming hot meals, Aisha will jump into your arms, Dick will worryingly watch over you, and you can enjoy family bliss..."

Schiller's voice echoed in the dark and empty chemical factory, carrying an inexplicable allure. Bruce began to hallucinate.

The mist on his eyelashes turned into neon lights under the glow of a match.

Bruce saw the chandelier at Wayne Manor, blinking with a dreamy luster. Underneath the chandelier, on the elegant wooden dining table, a variety of rare delicacies he hadn't seen or tasted in a long time were being served.

Alfred stood beside him with a smile, Aisha sat in his lap, and Dick sat at his side. At that moment, Selena elegantly approached and kissed his cheek, calling him a hero.

People praised him for his spirit of sacrifice, for his magnanimous heart, for his immense dedication, for doing things that weren't necessary. Everyone was deeply moved.

Then, he heard the sound of shutters clicking. It turned out that journalists had entered, and everything was being observed. His heroic actions were being faithfully recorded.

Batman's bad reputation was finally cleared. Mansion, restaurant, Manor – everyone praised him.

What was even more surprising was that Bruce Wayne earned the title of a prodigal son who returned. Wayne Enterprises' stocks skyrocketed, and it had already taken the form of an ultimate producer.

Batman's popularity far exceeded expectations, and he embarked on a political career.

He wanted to fundamentally change the country, and unsurprisingly, beneath the dual values of wealth and fame, he reached the highest position.

Batman announced educational reforms, a series of social welfare measures for the slums. He finally succeeded, successfully achieving all of this.

Many years later, when he looked back on these glorious experiences, he told the journalists that it was all because of his initial kindness.

He entered the depths of Gotham, experiencing the hardships of the poor. These two months were the most important of his life, and he learned a lot from the people living in the slums...

As the dream followed the timeline of the story to its end, the dreamy light began to fade away.

How much Bruce wished to see it again, but there were no more matches here to strike.

When the last match of the little girl selling matches went out, she didn't feel warmth or satisfaction; she only felt colder than before.

Lying on the cold platform, the carousel of thoughts in Bruce's mind was but a momentary flash. At this moment, Schiller's words had just fallen.

Bruce felt a power surging in his chest, like an impending volcano about to erupt. He had never experienced such emotions, so he didn't know how to release it.

At this moment, he felt a shadow cast over his head. Schiller walked over, looking down at him. In Bruce's eyes, he saw that familiar madness in Schiller's smile. He realized that it was all part of the Joker's trap.

Jack helping him was not a coincidence. He hadn't abandoned those crazy plans, and he didn't truly want to be a mentor and friend to Batman. Joker's purpose had always been one thing, to make Batman laugh...

Schiller crouched down, gripping Bruce's shoulder, and said, "You're about to break free from this ordeal, Batman. Aren't you happy about it? If you are, then you should smile, smile from the depths of your heart..."

"Let's go, Batman. I'll take you back. It's time for a good night's sleep..."

Schiller grabbed Bruce's shoulder, lifted him up, and turned towards the staircase leading to the platform.

But when they were close to the railing, Schiller felt a sudden surge of strength from the person on his back.

Schiller stumbled for a moment, his hand gripping the nearby railing. But in that moment when he lost his balance, Bruce flipped over the railing, using his hand to grasp the edge.

Schiller turned around, his eyes filled with madness. He looked at Bruce and said, "What are you doing?!! What else do you want to do?!! Batman!! Are you insane?!!"

Bruce's hand slowly slipped down from the horizontal bar of the railing to the vertical one, and finally, only his two hands clung to the edge of the platform.

And beneath him was the bottomless mixture of chemical compounds.

Fluorescent medicines on the surface had tiny bubbles constantly blinking, like particles flying around the sun, emitting a pungent smell that made one feel dizzy.

In this chaotic and hallucinatory light, there was only one pair of eyes that shone brightly. Bruce looked up, his face lit up against the light, and every scar on his face seemed deeper, but as a result, those eyes looked like sapphires buried in rock layers.

"There... is... nothing... here... that I need anymore..." Bruce said intermittently. "I've experienced... all of life... I've understood many things... there's no need... for further experiences like this..."

He struggled to swallow his saliva, and in this situation, even speaking a complete sentence was difficult.

"I feel hunger, pain, fatigue... just like them."

His arms began to tremble incessantly, until his entire body began to shake. But he still raised his face, facing Schiller's gaze, and said, "There's only one thing left for me to do..."

Bruce's hand let go, but Schiller showed a horrified expression. He quickly crouched down, trying to grab Bruce, but in the moment he reached out his hand, Bruce let go of the only hand holding on.

As Bruce was caught by the gravity of the abyss, his hair floated upward. He was no longer tired and heavy but became light, like a dragonfly rising from a drop of water, soaring with wings.

The sound of falling into the water echoed along with his last words:

"I only have one thing left to do, and that is to become like them."

"In the face of this insane reality, tell yourself... to smile."

As he merged with the light of the sun, Bruce smiled, genuinely and from the heart.

In front of Schiller, a droplet of splashing water fell. He slowly closed his eyes, and the mad expression on his face disappeared, but the hand gripping the railing remained.

Gotham's quiet night was like a dark and mysterious space.

Soon, dawn arrived. As the sun rose from the horizon, there was no mysterious or enchanting twilight, but it carried a unique gloom.

A figure dragged another figure out of the factory's door. Behind them, a misty fog shrouded the sun.

The slightly cool morning dew fell, reflecting the gleam of their shoes. As the stone path became misty, a solemn whisper could be heard:

"If there can only be one smiling Batman in this world... Laughing Bat, may God forever bless you. Amen."

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Next Chapter>>Chapter 801: How Schiller Initially Cracked (Part 1)