He was selling gashapon toys in Marvel Studios, and at the beginning, Tony turned into Kuuga.

The clown strode over the body of a bodyguard on the ground and swaggered inside.

"Stop right there! Take one more step and I'll riddle you with bullets!"

A gang leader, brandishing a pistol, roared furiously at the clown.

The clown didn't stop; instead, he quickened his pace and went straight up to the leader.

He put his hands behind his back, pressing his pale face almost against the muzzle of the other man's gun.

"Shoot!"

The clown lowered his voice, his tone full of seduction.

"If you just pull the trigger, bang! My head will explode into a red firework."

The gang leader felt a chill run down his spine from the clown's manic gaze, and his fingers began to tremble uncontrollably.

He roamed Gotham for decades, killing countless people.

But he had never seen anyone willingly walk into the line of fire and laugh so happily.

This isn't human; this is a complete madman!

"waste."

Seeing that the other party dared not fire, the clown curled his lip in boredom.

He turned and walked toward Falcone in the center of the hall.

"You're Falcone?"

The Joker sized up the underground emperor of Gotham, even flicking dust off his suit.

"That Falcone who killed my whole family?"

Falcone's hands were bulging with veins, his fists clenched, and he stared intently at the terrifying smiling face before him.

He didn't take a single step back, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

"I don't care if you're Jack or some damn clown."

Falcone spoke in a deep voice, pressing the gold-plated pistol in his hand directly against the Joker's heart.

"You dare to trespass on my territory? You must die today."

"die?"

The clown exaggeratedly clutched his chest, making an extremely frightened expression.

"Don't be so serious, Mr. Carmine."

The clown's expression suddenly changed, his fear turning into fervor.

He turned around, opened his arms, and faced all the gangsters who were holding guns.

"I'm here today to bring you an unprecedented audio-visual feast!"

The clown's voice echoed through the empty banquet hall, making everyone's eardrums ache.

"The old order is too boring! Gotham needs new laughter!"

He pulled a black remote control from the pocket of his purple suit and held it high.

"ladies and gentlemen!"

"Gotham's grand finale comedy is now officially open!"

When Falcone saw the remote control, his pupils contracted sharply.

"Open fire! Kill him!"

Falcone roared in fury.

Click click click!

Dozens of Thompson submachine guns simultaneously pulled their bolts.

At this critical moment.

The clown's smile widened to its extreme as he pressed the red button on the remote control without hesitation.

drop!drop!drop!

The rapid electronic countdown drowned out all the sounds of gun bolts.

The sound did not come from outside.

It came from all directions of the banquet hall, and even from under the overturned food carts!

The complete silence was broken.

All the gang leaders turned pale.

They finally realized that what had blown open the door earlier was not some ordinary explosive at all.

Those were several toy police cars strapped with explosives!

And now, who knows how many of these deadly toys this madman has hidden in the banquet hall!

"Hahahaha!"

The clown stood surrounded by dozens of submachine guns, tilted his head back, and burst into wild laughter.

The laughter sounded incredibly jarring amidst the beeping countdown.

The first to react was the bald leader who was closest to the door. He didn't even bother to grab his gun; he simply overturned his chair and rushed out.

This run completely ignited panic throughout the venue.

A dozen or so gang leaders rushed toward the blown-open front door, their expensive suits torn to shreds, their leather shoes crunching on the broken glass.

Pushing, cursing, wailing.

The Gotham elites who were so arrogant just moments ago are now no different from the aunties at the market grabbing discounts.

Nobody paid any attention to the clown.

No one paid any attention to Oswald, the penguin hiding in the back.

"Stop! All of you, stop right there!"

Falcone roared in fury and fired two shots that hit the ceiling.

Nobody listens to him.

Fear is far more effective than power.

"Hahahahaha!"

The clown stood in the center of the hall, arms outstretched, spinning in place, the hem of his purple suit billowing in the wind.

He watched as those ruthless gang leaders who usually killed without blinking an eye fled in terror, and he laughed until tears streamed down his face.

"Don't rush off! The show hasn't started yet!"

The clown stopped smiling and snapped his fingers.

The crisp sound pierced through all the noise.

More than thirty plastic dolls on the ground near the entrance started moving at the same time.

Tin frog, wind-up monkey, nutcracker soldier, teddy bear.

They were clutching various weapons...

There were submachine guns, daggers, and even a teddy bear holding a shotgun.

These are all "works" created by the Joker during his journey, as he touched the inner and outer sentry posts of Falco.

The dolls lined up in a neat row, blocking the only exit.

Bang bang bang bang!

Bullets sprayed from the muzzle of the gun in the doll's hand.

The bald leader at the front was hit by four bullets in the chest and fell backward, landing on the people behind him.

"Ambush! Retreat! Retreat!"

The gang thugs instinctively raised their guns and fired back.

A hail of bullets rained down on the line of dolls; the tin frog was pierced through the belly, and the cotton stuffing of the teddy bears exploded all over the ground.

But they don't feel pain.

I'm not afraid.

They won't die.

A Nutcracker soldier with a broken right leg continued to charge forward, his dagger plunging into the calf of one of the thugs.

The thug screamed and fell to the ground. The three wind-up monkeys immediately pounced on him, their tiny iron hands frantically scratching his face.

What's even more terrifying is what's behind you.

The clown moved.

He dragged his gunshot-wounded right leg and limped into the chaotic crowd.

Hey! Hello there!

The clown patted the back of the burly man next to him who was holding a Thompson submachine gun.

puff.

White smoke exploded.

The burly man disappeared.

A green wind-up frog rolled out of the ground, its two plastic eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

The submachine gun slammed to the floor with a thud.

"What?! That thing next to me just now... who was that again?"

The thug next to him had wide pupils; he felt like someone was missing from his side.

But I just can't remember who that person is, what they look like, or what their name is.

The memory was completely eradicated.

It's as if that person never existed.

"Something's wrong! He's right next to me! Don't let him touch me..."

He hadn't finished speaking.

The clown's left hand was already on his shoulder.

puff.

Another teddy bear fell to the ground.

The clown weaved through a hail of bullets, his pale face contorted with extreme ecstasy.

Pat someone on the back with your left hand and touch someone's head with your right hand.

Each touch was accompanied by a puff of white smoke and a living person who vanished into thin air.

Metal robot.

puppet.

Marbles.

Rubber duck.

More and more toys were scattered on the blood-stained carpet.

And fewer and fewer people are living in the hall.

"He's disappeared! Jimmy's disappeared!"

"Where's Bob? Where's Bob? Who's Bob? Wait, who's Bob?"

"I can't remember! There's clearly someone standing next to me! Why can't I remember their face?!"