Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 166: Old acquaintance returns

"The fugitive, the Riddler, is known to have left his signature question mark on a wall in Gotham Square. Experts say this mark is highly unusual for the Riddler—and our guest today is Kiel Castro of the Gotham Academy of Criminology."

Sheriff Gordon listened to the sound of the TV program coming from the radio with a bad look on his face. After a year, the Riddler tried to escape from prison three times and finally succeeded. Now he left a criminal mark in the square again. Everything showed that he was about to restart his criminal activities in Gotham City.

He immediately left the hospital and drove towards Gotham Square with other police officers.

In East Gotham, Ma Zhaodi looked at the room in front of him with satisfaction. His negotiations with the landlord had gone smoothly. Since he had a business card and the comedian had already called the landlord, even though he was a police officer, the landlord didn't mind renting the room to him. Ma Zhaodi guessed that the landlord and the actor must have a good relationship.

For a landlord who pursues safety, the identity and position of the tenants are very important. This building is maintained by gang forces, so naturally there are many gang members inside, as well as a large number of lawless people engaged in illegal industries.

Although there are many corrupt police officers in the Gotham Police Department, the landlord was not sure whether Ma Zhaodi was one of them, so he gave him a rude warning before he moved in.

"Remember, this area is under the protection of the Falcone family. Don't cause any trouble in here. After get off work, you are no longer a police officer. If you dare to shoot or arrest a criminal in this building, get out immediately!"

Not bad, quite polite, Ma Zhaodi thought. Better than Drake's landlord, who warned his tenants by shooting rocks out with a shotgun.

He didn't have much luggage with him, and the furniture in the small room could meet the daily needs of an ordinary person, so he sat directly on the bed and used his mobile phone to turn on the police force's internal radio channel - this was the one he hacked into, and his own radio had been taken back.

There's nothing we can do about it, Batman must have done it too.

"Attention all officers. The wall in Gotham Square is currently under protection for evidence collection. We've covered it with a sheet. Everyone in the surrounding area should be on the lookout for any signs of the Riddler. He just left a mark there, so he might not have gotten far."

"?" Ma Zhaodi, listening to the intercom, was confused. "What do you mean by 'The Riddler might not have gotten far yet?'"

Isn't the Riddler locked up in the hospital?
He ran away again?
Although if you think about it carefully, Arkham cannot stop a super criminal like the Riddler from escaping, but he has tried to escape three times in two days and succeeded twice, which still makes Ma Zhaodi feel helpless.

However, if prisons can hold people, super criminals will not be able to escape and continue doing bad things, which must be a headache for comic book writers.

On the phone, the conversation between the police officers was still going on.

"I see. Are there any victims over there in the square?"

"Nothing has been found yet, but the question mark and the message appear to have been written in blood. We can't completely rule out the possibility that someone nearby may have been victimized. We're still searching."

"Yes—what did he write?"

"I'm going to kill you, Joker. And then I'm going to laugh, ha, ha, ha."

"what?"

"Yes, that's what he wrote."

"But what about the riddle? Shouldn't he leave a riddle this time? Or rather, what kind of advanced riddle is this?"

No, Ma Zhaodi thought to himself, this sentence didn't sound like a riddle at all, it was just a direct mockery.

Others might not understand how serious it is for a clown to not be able to laugh, but he saw a clown that couldn't laugh in the theater, and he looked really bad. At this moment, he had already thought about the possibility of this incident being reported on the news. If the clown heard that sentence, especially the three words "ha, ha, ha" in the second half of the sentence, his mood would probably become even worse - because he really wanted to laugh but couldn't.

"Kil, what do you think?"

"Andrew, I can't say. This is very strange. The Riddler usually leaves riddles at the scene to hint at his next crime, but this is different, completely different - you see, he just wrote this: 'I'm going to kill you, clown. And then I'm going to laugh out loud, ha, ha, ha.'"

The clown in a suit stood in front of a mirror, looking at his face carefully, while the sound of news on TV came to his ears.

"Is this unusual?"

“It’s very uncharacteristic and very literal.”

"But what's the point of such directness for lunatics like the Joker, the Riddler, or Batman?"

He smiled in front of the mirror, some were reserved and confident, some were cheerful and sunny. Finally, he even stretched out his hands, fiddling with and rubbing his entire face, forcing the corners of his mouth upwards - but unfortunately, his face was not plasticine and could not be shaped by just rubbing it.

No matter which smile it was, it seemed quite stiff and disharmonious, which made the clown even more irritable and unhappy. As soon as he let go, the corners of his mouth drooped naturally. It turned out that he couldn't force himself to laugh when he was unhappy.

"I don't know either, Andrew. Their thinking is different from ours. Normal people can't understand them. I can only say that I have been following their news. These people are not only crazy, but also smart. They can kill any one of us, even all of us - and sometimes, I really think they want to do it."

The clown's face in the mirror changed from several stiff smiles to frustration, then to anger, and finally to gloomy and quiet.

"Thank you, Kiel Castro, for your interpretation. Tonight, we will continue—"

Snapped--

The TV was suddenly turned off, and the Joker took out his cell phone with a gloomy face.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the Diamond District.

Today is a rare good day in Gotham. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming, the sky is clear and the sun is shining. In the forest surrounded by green trees, a white luxurious villa stands on the top of the hill.

The sun shone on the tall double oak doors, on the natural limestone exterior, on the shimmering swimming pool, on the sculpture of a girl by the pool - and on the man by the pool, surrounded by several bodyguards in black suits.

He was wearing a white suit and sitting on a comfortable velvet chair, basking in the sun leisurely.

Sunshine - this is something he had not enjoyed much in Gotham before. It sounds funny, but it is true. Whether poor or rich, as long as you live in Gotham City, you will understand the value of sunshine.

The phone suddenly rang. He looked at the number he had never seen before. He was a little confused at first, and then the confusion quickly turned into shock and anger, but in the end, he still picked up the phone.

"Carmine, I'm the Joker, and I need you to do me a favor."

"I need you to help me kill the Riddler."

(End of this chapter)