Laughing American comics, I am becoming more and more like a clown

Lucien approached her tentatively, and Harley did not refuse, so he lay down on her legs with protruding kneecaps.

Lucien smelled rotten eggs, rotten apples, and the faint smell of sulfur...

This clown girl's entire body, except for her eyes, is covered in ulcers and there is no intact part of her body.

Then Lucien looked up and looked only into her eyes:

"I'm the Joker... but why can't I be the Joker? Can't I be who we thought I was?"

……

In this strange and solemn coffin room

Lucien bowed slightly, as if inviting his female companion... It was a couple's dance.

……

Why couldn't Lucien become a clown... This was also the question that puzzled Harley. She combed her algae-green curly hair with her bony hands and gently encouraged him:

"Perhaps it's because you haven't completely killed yourself yet?"

We all forget that Harley Quinn was once the Joker's psychiatrist, and she hasn't slacked off on this craft in the years since she became Harley Quinn.

She could clearly grasp Lucien's fragile heart, even flatten and round it. She naturally understood that at this moment he was as fragile as the light of a match in a fairy tale, which would go out if blown.

……

No one responded, so Lucian could only withdraw his hand in disappointment... He couldn't expect the ashes to come out of the box and dance with him.

……

Harley had never considered Lucien a separate person, the way the Joker had…they had all considered him a harmless clay sculpture, a pathetic creature with only future value.

"Do you want to kill me too?"

"You all seem to want to kill me."

Lucien was wrapped in the Harley net, looking very pitiful:

"Am I really that unlovable?"

"Why is everyone..." He couldn't help but snort and laugh, "Why is everyone expecting me to be a clown?"

Lucien looked at Harley, and suddenly took out a sharp knife from his arms and put it in front of her: "Okay, okay, I'm the Joker."

It was like a plea: "If you are willing to love me, I will commit suicide."

He put the knife into her palm and said, "Do you love me? Or do you hate me? Do you want to kill me?"

He got no response...which was a response in itself.

So Lucien had no choice. He held Harry's shriveled hand, turned the knife around, and pointed the tip at Harry.

"I'm sorry... If you don't love me, I can't tolerate the fact that someone who tried to kill me is still alive."

"I really don't want to kill you," he said. "I can be the Joker completely. I'll learn his every move..."

Harley had very little strength... maybe it was due to her physical condition, or maybe she didn't even struggle. Her beautiful green eyes didn't even look at the tip of the knife, but floated comfortably in the air.

Until it penetrates.

Until the most beautiful part of the body is destroyed... until the knife pierces the eye socket and the brain.

Until Harley died.

Chapter 120 Bat

Today, Gotham's public facilities have basically become products of private money-making.

For example, Gotham Hospital, for example, the psychological counseling room.

For example, Ms. Taylor, a master's student who graduated from Stanford University with a degree in psychology.

……

After getting along for a long time, her colleagues and even patients all knew what kind of person she was - she attributed all the men and women, tall or short, fat or thin, sick or not, to anorexia.

Although she does have something to say about her research on anorexia nervosa – and this is where things get really interesting.

For Gotham doctors, most of the time misdiagnosis is due to drug sales or the financial needs of follow-up diagnosis and treatment... but that's not the case for her. She simply regards anorexia nervosa as her comfort zone.

So I immersed myself in it and dragged everyone into it.

……

"Mr. Lucien Emerson Turner, please come in."

At the nurse's call, a man wearing a bowler hat walked into the treatment room.

The lady's figure is still plump and lovely, and her voice is still sweet and gentle.

Of course, the diagnosis and treatment result was still "anorexia".

Lucian couldn't help but chuckle and listened quietly to her analysis until her mouth was dry and she had to stop to drink water. Then she said:

"I wonder if you remember me."

He raised his eyes to meet hers, and regretfully saw her thoughtful gaze.

So he pulled the gun out of his pocket, pointed it at her head, and whispered, "Do you remember now?"

"I brought a gun this time."

……

"I'm sorry..." Ms. Taylor slowly raised her hand: "I'm sorry sir."

But she still didn't recognize him, even though he was very distinctive in appearance.

Fortunately, Lucien did not blame her for this: "There is nothing to be sorry about. I just did this to get you to calm down and listen to me."

"……Please say."

"First things first... and this is the most important thing and something I've stressed many times... I am not anorexic."

Ms. Taylor instinctively wanted to say something, but she stammered, "Yes...you didn't."

Lucien was very satisfied with this answer:

"The second point isn't that important...it's just something I wanted to say to you privately."

"Getting others to agree with your point of view doesn't mean you have to force your ideas on them... You have to agree with their point of view first, and then discuss your own point of view from their perspective."

"Whose idea is this?" Lucian pondered for a long time, but because the gun barrel didn't move, the chatty woman could only wait in silence. Finally, he found the source from the corner of his memory:

"It was Blackburn's idea. Perhaps you want to know who Blackburn is..." He chuckled.

"This is a great guy—he's sold me cars."

……

Lucien walked over, patted her stiff shoulder, and then put the gun to her mouth: "Look, even a black kid with a junior high school education knows this... Don't you, an elite from a famous university, know it?"

"You should know... you're a master's student in psychology. You're not ignorant."

"You are just arrogant. I am not angry at your blindness to your own academic achievements, but at your condescending gaze."

……

Ms. Taylor was a little flustered and pleading.

Lucien looked at her expression and smiled: "...Am I blaming you too much?"

Pull the trigger.

The bullet shot out from the muzzle, went straight into the brain from the upper jaw, and almost instantly, Ms. Taylor fell limp.

"But I'm sorry, I can't always blame myself."

The pistol had a silencer, so the odd sound didn't attract the attention of the nurse outside.

The murderer, who lingered at the murder scene, let go of the victim, lit a cigarette for himself, and then exhaled the gray smoke and looked at the corpse:

"Don't worry, at least I'll follow your obsession... I'll fast while you watch the ceremony—if that can soothe your obsession with 'anorexia'."

……

He opened the window and threw the cigarette butt down. It landed on the green plants downstairs and burned the already wilted potted plants.

It didn't just burn, it ignited the dying plant.

Flames flickered, igniting the curtains—the smoke alarm was triggered.

----

In the city of Gotham, no matter how many years have passed, the image that is deeply rooted in people's hearts is still "Batman".

When Batman returns again - they tailor-made a battle armor for him, a bat suit that can control limb movements with thoughts.

...When Batman stood high up in this outfit, acting as a symbol, the passion of the people of Gotham was ignited.

They shouted—

"Gotham doesn't need a ruler!"

Begin to realize the freedom you have lost and prepare to fight for it.

……

Lucian squeezed those mechanical fingers and said to the person inside:

"These only allow you to perform the most basic actions."

Bruce couldn't even pull his fingers out of his hand—weak as a puppet.

"At least I have retained my sight and hearing," he said. "At least I can witness miracles in this form."

High-sounding.

Lucian snorted and laughed. "Come on, Bruce, you don't need to pretend in front of me... I dare say that what you want to see is definitely not salvation or a miracle."

"What you want to see is slaughter, blood, and violence... You are crazy~"

The ending tone is very light.

He received no rebuttal.