The aliens who were picked up by Superman at the beginning

Wilson awoke from his coma once again.

It's hard to imagine that the mundane life of working at a dry cleaner would become so exciting.

In less than half a day, he had already fainted twice.

Wilson felt a dull ache in the back of his head. Without even touching it, he knew there was a huge bruise swollen up on the back of his head.

Of course, he no longer had the means to touch himself.

After twisting his body a few times, he found himself being tightly bound to a wooden post with duct tape.

After thinking about his situation for a moment, Wilson couldn't help but feel a little worried.

This was different from the confident acting I had before. My mind was blank, and the reassuring telepathic communication within the team no longer echoed in my mind.

This means that even the white hood and red hood have lost their place.

And the worst part is that Wilson has no recollection of who knocked him unconscious.

He remembered that at the moment the gunshot rang out, he instinctively closed his eyes out of fear.

The enormous, deafening noise, and the surge of adrenaline, caused Wilson to lose some of his senses during that brief period of darkness. It was as if his senses of touch and smell had vanished along with the piercing, shattered hearing of the gunshot.

After the gunfire stopped, Wilson didn't even know if he had been shot or not, and he didn't even realize he needed to check himself.

All he knew was that amidst a ringing in his ears, he vaguely heard someone whistling as they approached him, then easily knocked him unconscious.

This time, without those two seemingly highly professional guys to back him up, Wilson couldn't help but feel a little panicked.

He tried to gather lightning to break free of the restraints, but gave up because his skin could not withstand the sudden increase in temperature after the lightning gathered, due to the airtight binding of the layers of plastic tape.

Looking around at the pitch-black darkness, Wilson could only encourage himself by talking to himself.

"Go for it, Wilson!"

"You're not just an ordinary dry cleaner owner anymore!"

"You participated in the operation alongside those professionals."

"Maybe your infiltration has successfully stirred up a global crisis, and you're already a superhero who has saved the world! Wilson."

Wilson's mutterings finally elicited a response from the darkness.

A yawning sound rang out from not far away, followed by a series of light footsteps approaching. "Who? Who's there?!"

Wilson was still somewhat afraid and unconsciously raised his voice.

The owner of the footsteps paused slightly.

"Sorry, uh—you know, this is what happens when you cut off the government's money supply; there are no lights in the house."

Then came the sound of fabric rubbing together, as if the other person was groping for something.

Wilson became even more nervous, unable to help but wonder if the other person was pulling out some kind of terrifying torture device.

But finally, with a crisp click, a beam of light shone in the darkness.

Wilson had barely had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief when he saw a face with ghastly green hair, pale skin, and scarlet cracks appear in the firelight.

"ah!!!!!"

Wilson's sudden scream startled even the clown.

The other person casually threw something at him with a bang, and the pain forced Wilson to shut his mouth.

The clown then patted his chest, seemingly trying to calm himself down. He then walked away with the lighter in his hand, the flame appearing distant in Wilson's eyes, until Wilson could only see him bending over and rummaging through a pile of junk.

Finally, the clown pulled over a table lamp with a long power cord attached, and despite saying just moments before that the house had been without power due to a power outage, he turned the table lamp on as usual.

The clown pointed the huge incandescent light bulb at Wilson.

After the dramatic ups and downs, Wilson gasped for breath, and as oxygen was pumped into his bloodstream more quickly, he finally regained a little bit of relative calm.

While feeling fear due to the other party's reputation, they couldn't help but curiously observe the latter.

Surprisingly, the clown didn't have the habit of laughing strangely every now and then, like he does on TV.

Although he still wore that strange and awkward smile, a closer look revealed that it was only because of the corrosive burns from the chemicals that had stretched his white skin, and the crooked cracks at the corners of his mouth that gave him that terrifying smile all day long.

The clown pulled up a stool and sat down not far from Wilson, keeping the lamp bulb pointed in Wilson's direction.

"Hello there."

The clown greeted Wilson in a rather oddly polite manner.

Wilson swallowed hard and forced an awkward smile.

It's no secret; almost every Gotham resident knows that if you don't laugh with the Joker, something terrible will happen. "I'm sorry for bringing you here."

The clown switched the lamp to his other hand and began to ramble on.

"Gotham City has been acting really strange lately!"

This is the Joker's official opening line.

The Joker then went on and on about the strange things that had been happening in Gotham City lately.

"I probably had a long sleep, and then this lovely city suddenly underwent a complete transformation."

"...Everyone's health has deteriorated. I heard there's a fierce plague that even infected the Justice League."

"Oh dear, this is terrible. Why didn't everyone take precautions? These wretched little creatures have gotten into our homes..."

The clown is not very good at telling stories; he always speaks in a disjointed and rambling manner.

But Wilson dared not not listen carefully, fearing that after the clown finished speaking, he would suddenly pull out a camera that was broadcast live to the whole city and start asking him questions about the details of what he had just said.

If you don't answer correctly or answer incorrectly, you'll have to gamble on whether Batman can get there before the Joker completely disembowels you.

Of course, this is now a gamble that's almost certainly going to lose, because the details of the conversation between the red and white men revealed to Wilson that they were once very close to Batman. They could have been allies, or they could have been enemies.

In short, he is much more familiar with and knows more about Batman than the average person.

According to them, Batman has disappeared and no one can find him.

The clown continued rambling.

"I missed more than one party, and that's not even the worst part."

The clown's tone became somewhat weary, tinged with resentment.

"My friend is missing. I've searched all over Gotham, but I can't find him."

"Those weirdo with superpowers, they actually brazenly gather together everywhere, while my friend, my good friend who used to be always there."

"He didn't jump out and wipe them all out."

The clown leaned closer to Wilson, his body leaning forward so that two of the chair legs lifted up, creaking as he relied on his legs to maintain the chair's balance.

"Do you know what's going on here?"

Here it comes! The Joker's problem has arrived!

Although there were no live cameras, Wilson still felt very nervous.

"I'm not entirely sure, sir, but if I had to put it into words, it seems like I know a little about everything."