Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 188 Is it strange that middle-aged people like Peppa Pig?
Why did the perverted cyclist join the Riddler? This is what happened after Ma Zhaodi left the police station.

To be precise, it was the afternoon when I left the police station.

"Please, I'm not a pervert like the Joker. I just hope that fewer people die on the battlefield, and I also hope to survive. The Joker ambushed you the night before last. I just got everyone into the hospital together."

In front of the Riddler, the masked, black-robed, perverted cyclist spread his hands and said, "Technically, I turned a game that was about to be lost into a draw. You should thank me."

The Riddler, leaning on a golden cane shaped like a question mark and wearing a green suit and top hat, listened calmly to the perverted biker's explanation. On either side of him, super criminals like Crocodile, Clayface, Two-Face, and Poison Ivy surrounded him like a star-studded circle. These super criminals were no pushovers, each sizing up the perverted biker in the center of the hall, their gazes filled with provocation, questioning, and sometimes even aggression.

"You are clever, my friend," the Riddler replied calmly. "Very clever, much cleverer than most who wait until the war has begun. But the thing is, we know nothing about you, do we?"

"You know, I like riddles, but I don't like boring, bad riddles like you—you appear out of nowhere like a ghost, with no clues, no hints, no beginning or end. Do you know what this reminds me of?"

"what?"

"This reminds me of a similarly clueless, clueless, and utterly clueless idiot whom I've met four times. To be exact, three times—those three times really taught me two good lessons."

At this point, the Riddler's lips curled slightly. "I finally understand why people say a genius's meticulously planned strategy can sometimes be outmatched by a fool's sudden inspiration. But then again, a fool might win one game with luck, but lose ninety-nine with intelligence. Look, isn't he just putting himself right in front of me?"

Just as he finished speaking, a two-faced man in a half-red and half-green suit walked out from the side, pointing a pistol in his hand directly at the perverted cyclist's head.

Ma Zhaodi looked at Harvey in this world. The skin on half of his body had completely disappeared, turning a hideous blood red. The muscles and part of the bones on his face were directly exposed to the air, looking extremely terrifying. Even half of his hair had turned white, and he had completely lost his vitality.

Yes, this is what Harvey would have been like.

Ma Zhaodi looked at his face and sighed slightly in her heart.

Ding--

The two-faced man tossed a coin in his hand, one side was burnt and the other side was intact.

The coin fell into his palm, but he didn't look at it. Instead, he clenched his fist, looked at Ma Zhaodi, and asked in a hoarse voice: "Guess which side is facing up?"

Poison Ivy's vines grew slowly, Crocodile Man opened his bloody mouth, Clayface's hand turned into a sledgehammer, Firefly's hand covered his flamethrower, and Scarecrow opened his sleeves - the scene was extremely tense at this time. As long as the Riddler gave the order, Ma Zhaodi would face the siege of a group of super criminals.

"What are you talking about?" Ma Zhaodi shook his head. "I don't understand. Do you really want to withdraw your men? Otherwise, I should go ask the Joker. At least he even wants third-tier villains like Clue Master, so the threshold is relatively low."

The corner of the Riddler's eye twitched. He was a little stressed out by Ma Zhaodi's answer. When he heard his words, he recalled that not-so-wonderful day.

"Alright." He walked forward slowly, his tone becoming icy. "Let me make this clearer. This morning, Officer Ma Zhaodi of the Gotham Police Department just resigned. Someone saw him leave the hospital and board a train directly to Metropolis. But this guy has faced me and the Joker and survived. Can a man like him be scared away so easily by just an explosion in the police station?"

"What nonsense are you talking about? That was an explosion, not a game. The Gotham Police Department was flattened."

The Riddler ignored him and continued on his own. "Coincidentally, the vigilante, the Psycho Bicyclist, also appeared after Ma Zhaodi arrived in Gotham. To say they have no connection would be an insult to my intelligence."

"So what does this have to do with me?"

"Stop messing around, Mr. Ma Zhaodi."

The Riddler replied coldly, "Take off the mask. What's the point of playing dumb now?"

At this moment, the two-faced man beside him simply reached out and took off the mask on the face of the perverted cyclist.

There were gasps, and everyone clearly saw that beneath the mask of the perverted cyclist was—

It's another mask.

It's pink and shaped like a hair dryer. If it weren't for the ears and mouth, almost no one would be able to tell it's a pig.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

The Riddler couldn't hold it in any longer, this strange and stupid atmosphere of comedy brought back memories of that terrible day when he had been dragged down to his level by a fool, like a clown on a stage.

He angrily pulled off the Peppa Pig mask, revealing the face of a middle-aged man underneath.

For a moment, everyone present, including the Riddler, was stunned.

"What are you looking at?" the unshaven uncle asked. "Can't I like Peppa Pig just because I'm in my thirties? Shenjin, men stay young until they die, don't you understand?"

silence.

The entire place was suffocatingly silent, practically to the point where you could hear a pin drop. This was the first such silence since the rise of super criminals here. Normally, everyone was busy provoking and teasing each other—you stab me, test my superb healing abilities; I shoot you, test your top-notch reflexes. The scene was a scene of demons dancing wildly, a hundred demons parading at night.

The Two-Face Man turned his head to look at the Riddler beside him. Although he didn't say anything, it seemed as if he had said everything.

The Riddler's expression gradually twisted.

"Check his face for me! I want to see how many faces he has! I want to see if he has disguised himself!"

So, after a while, the perverted cyclist rubbed his face which was pinched red and even torn with blood, and went to pick up his cloak with his beer belly bulging.

"MD, you can check if you want, why are you pulling my cloak? I just want to cover my beer belly, what's wrong with me?"

The Riddler's expression shifted from gloomy to bright. He suddenly asked, "What's your name?"

"The perverted cyclist."

"My real name."

"Okhorik Thor."

"Drunken Thor?" Poison Ivy raised an eyebrow. "Drunken Thor with a big belly? Why is he given such a name?"

"My ancestors were from the Black Flag of Gotham. My bloodline is pure. Don't question me."

The Psycho Biker put his gear back on and looked at the Riddler.

"So, did I succeed in getting the job? Give me a straight answer."

(End of this chapter)