American Comics: Something's Wrong with This Superhero World

Chapter 254 Wayne is gone

In the hospital's private consultation room, Bruce Wayne, dressed and with a somber expression, sat in the examination chair. The doctor standing opposite him was reviewing the latest test results.

The doctor looked up, offering a professional yet friendly smile: "Mr. Wayne, based on the latest examination results, I can assure you that your newly repaired genitals, achieved using the latest technology, have no physiological problems. All functional indicators are within the normal range."

Bruce frowned, clearly dissatisfied with the result: "This is impossible. I know my own condition very well; I can't get up no matter what. I've tried all sorts of medications, but none of them have worked."

The doctor nodded and said gently, "Mr. Wayne, since there are no physical problems, we have to consider that psychological factors may be at play."

"Psychological factors?" Bruce asked, somewhat surprised.

The doctor explained, "Yes. Sometimes, even after the body has fully recovered, our brains may retain previous defense mechanisms. This can lead to some functional impairments."

Bruce remained silent for a moment, seemingly processing the information.

The doctor continued:

"I suggest you try some methods to stimulate yourself. For example, create a relaxed environment, try some new experiences, or find stimulation that makes you feel particularly excited. Everyone's situation is different, the key is to find what works for you, like new clothes, new actions, etc. Or, if I may venture a suggestion, perhaps you could try looking for women other than your wife?"

"You mean..." Bruce was about to ask something when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Please come in," Bruce said, his tone tinged with impatience.

Afu pushed open the door and walked in, looking somewhat nervous. Bruce frowned even more when he saw him: "Afu, didn't I tell you not to bother me unless it's urgent? I'm seeing a doctor."

Afu bowed slightly and said apologetically, "I'm very sorry, Mr. Bruce. But... you'll have to take a look at this."

As he spoke, Alfred took an envelope from his suit pocket and handed it to Bruce. Bruce took the envelope suspiciously and opened it under the doctor's curious gaze.

"Dear Bruce Wayne,

I know what you've been hiding! Give me back my lovely Harley, or your secrets will be exposed! Imagine how the people of Gotham and Superman would react if they knew your true colors! Oh, that would be quite a sight!

You have 24 hours to consider it. Once that time is up, I'll send your 'amazing achievements' to every superhero company. Trust me, they'll be very interested.

I will always love you, J.

After reading the letter, Bruce Wayne's expression changed drastically, and a flash of anger appeared in his eyes. He had actually been threatened by a supervillain from his own company.

And isn't this just a script I discussed with the Joker before? This kid just casually changed the contents of the letter thinking I wouldn't notice, huh?

Bruce Wayne clenched the letter in his hand tightly, his voice low and dangerous:

"Ah Fu, where is the messenger?"

Ah Fu hesitated slightly before replying, "Our security guards have already stopped him, young master. He's in the manor's basement now."

Bruce said coldly, "Very well. Interrogate him by any means necessary. I need to know all of the Joker's plans."

Afu frowned slightly, but still nodded in agreement: "Yes, young master."

Bruce stood up and straightened his suit. "I have to handle this personally. We need to find out exactly how much the Joker has!"

Just as he was about to leave, Bruce suddenly stopped and turned to look at the doctor who was still in the room. The doctor was startled by Bruce's suddenly cold gaze.

Bruce whispered to Alfred, "Clean up the mess here. We can't leave any potential problems."

Ah Fu understood and replied softly, "Understood, young master. I will make sure everything goes perfectly."

Bruce nodded and strode out of the examination room. Alfred remained where he was, turning to the bewildered doctor with an apologetic yet resolute expression.

The doctor felt a chill run down his spine, as if he realized that something terrible was about to happen.

Bruce Wayne strode toward the elevator, already formulating a plan to deal with the Joker in his mind, completely ignoring the doctor's wailing behind him.

The Joker has a huge number of fanatical fans in Gotham and is not easy to deal with for ordinary people, but it is not a problem for Bruce. The King of Gotham is not called that for nothing. He can easily deal with the supervillains under his command.

The questions are: how much does the Joker actually possess? And who saved Harley Quinn in the first place? Will he help the Joker again?

In the backstage dressing room of the circus, the clown sat leisurely in front of the makeup mirror, carefully applying his signature white makeup. Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," the clown said without turning his head.

A burly henchman walked in, looking nervous. He hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Boss, I have something to tell you."

The clown glanced at him through the mirror: "So, what's got you so nervous?"

His subordinate took a deep breath: "Matchstick Marlon is offering a huge reward for your capture. Twenty million dollars if you're captured alive!"

The clown paused for a moment, but quickly resumed applying the paint.

The subordinate continued, "I think you need to leave quickly. Someone in the Joker's gang might already be interested."

The clown put down the makeup, slowly turned around, a half-smile playing on his lips: "Oh? Thanks for reminding me. But... where can I go?"

The subordinate quickly said, "You can come to my house! We'll continue rescuing Miss Harley once things have calmed down."

The clown stood up, a gentle smile on his face. "Really? You're a good boy." He walked to the drawer. "Then let me tidy up my things."

Just as his subordinate lowered his guard, the clown suddenly pulled a knife from the drawer, turned around with lightning speed, and stabbed his subordinate in the abdomen.

His men stared wide-eyed at the clown in disbelief.

"How did you find out?"

"I bet it's really hard to find loyal henchmen these days." The Joker said, casually tossing his henchman to the ground. The henchman slowly closed his eyes, his life swiftly fading away. The Joker nonchalantly wiped the blood off his knife, then locked the door and sat back down in front of his vanity mirror.

"Twenty million, huh? Why weren't you this generous when you paid me my salary?"

It's one thing for ordinary people, but as Gotham's number one villain who has been acting opposite Batman for a long time, how could the Joker not know that Matchstick Malone is Bruce Wayne's alter ego?

But to be fair, Bruce Wayne's move was truly disgusting. The Joker gang was a hastily assembled rabble, and while there were certainly some brainless fans willing to die for the Joker, twenty million dollars was a price that could cure a brainless person. Who knows, one of the Joker gang members might betray them.

If given time to filter, the Joker could easily find people with brain damage that even 20 million dollars couldn't cure, but the problem is that the Joker doesn't have much time left.

The clown looked at himself in the mirror, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Luckily, I always have a Plan B," he thought.

The clown carefully checked his makeup, making sure every detail was perfect. Nodding in satisfaction, he stood up, stepped over the corpse on the floor, and walked to a corner of the room.

Hidden there was an inconspicuous suitcase. The clown opened it, revealing a complex electronic device. He skillfully operated it, setting an explosive device that would detonate the moment the door was forced open.

After setting everything up, the Joker walked to the other side of the room. He pushed open what appeared to be an ordinary wardrobe, revealing a hidden door behind it. This was a secret underground passage, an escape route the Joker had prepared long ago.

(End of this chapter)