Night. A thunderstorm.
Allen rode his Electric Bicycle back to Arkham Asylum.
The guard opened the gate and let him through without giving him much trouble.
"Thanks for your hard work, everyone. Take these and smoke up."
Allen pulled out an unopened pack of cigarettes and gave it to the security staff.
Gotham City's charitable organizations were surprisingly humane. They even handed out cigarettes. Following the principle that refusing freebies was a loss, Allen had pocketed them while scavenging.
As for why he gave them away.
First, he did not smoke.
Second, social etiquette.
They guarded the gate for him and even opened it when he came back late. He had to show some appreciation, or it would just be awkward.
He parked with practiced ease and returned to his hospital bed, intending to shower and sleep, when he spotted a familiar face in the private room next door.
"Little Green, you're back."
Allen warmly greeted Poison Ivy Lillian.
Lillian shot him an irritated glance, then pulled the blanket over her head and ignored him.
She had only been out wandering for a few days before getting caught and dragged back. How could she be in a good mood?
Before long, Lillian lifted the blanket to get some air and discovered in horror that Allen's entire face was pressed against the glass partition, distorted by the pressure. His eyes were wide open as he stared directly at her.
"Allen, what are you doing?"
"You didn't say hello to me."
As Allen spoke, his warm breath fogged up the glass.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Just because she had not greeted him, he pressed his face to the glass and stared at her like that? Did he realize how creepy that was?
"Mm, I'm back."
Lillian reluctantly replied.
She was genuinely worried that Allen would stay awake all night, watching her like a ghost.
"Good night."
"Good night."
Rumble!
Lightning flashed through the rainy night.
A figure stood on a rooftop, letting out painful, crazed laughter.
Arthur's heart was filled with pain and bitterness, but his laughing disorder made him unable to stop the chilling cackles.
His trembling hands clutched his scarred scalp as scenes of Allen burning off his hair replayed in his mind.
At the time, he had threatened him, cursed him, and begged him, but in the end, he still could not escape his poison.
"Batman, Bat-Man, I will repay my pain to you a hundredfold, a thousandfold."
Arthur clenched his fists in fury and pounded the concrete railing to vent his hatred.
A lifetime of misfortune had awakened the darkness in his heart, ultimately turning him into the Joker, whom all of Gotham feared at the very mention of his name.
Batman was criminals' nightmare.
And Arthur, transformed into the Joker, was Batman's nightmare.
But Allen had destroyed all of it.
When the lighter burned away his green hair, the symbol of his identity as the Joker, Arthur's identity as the Joker vanished along with it.
"Do you want revenge?"
At that moment, a Talon commander stood behind him.
Arthur turned back with a cold smile. "State your terms."
"Batman's identity is Bruce Wayne."
As soon as the words fell, the Talon commander leaped down, giving Arthur no chance to ask further questions.
"Bruce Wayne?"
Arthur stood frozen, memories buried deep within his heart surfacing.
Before his mother died, she had told him the secret of his origins: he was supposedly Master Wayne's illegitimate son.
After learning the truth, he had rushed to Wayne Manor to confirm it, only to be humiliated and denied by the butler Alfred.
"Your mother suffered from schizophrenia and was treated at Arkham Asylum. Master Wayne covered her medical expenses out of consideration for their relationship as employer and servant. That is why she imagined the story about an illegitimate son. Know your place, and do not harbor improper designs on the Wayne Family."
Alfred's words remained vivid in his mind, deeply piercing the young Arthur's heart.
He had seemed like a pitiful wretch shamelessly trying to seize the Wayne Family's assets.
Arthur had been willing to remain obediently in Arkham Asylum only because it felt like staying by his deceased mother's side.
"Ha ha ha..."
Arthur spread his arms and threw his head back in laughter, letting the cold rain lash his face. His smile was full of madness and exhilaration.
"Batman, Bruce, ha ha ha..."
Hidden in a high-rise building a block away, the Owl Judges observed Arthur's behavior through binoculars.
"Can the Joker carry out the plan we envisioned?"
"It doesn't matter. He is only one of many pieces on the board. Whether he succeeds is inconsequential."
"Exactly. Only by unfolding multiple plans at once can we ensure nothing goes wrong."
"It's rather amusing. The Joker's biological father was a drunkard, yet he has always believed it was Thomas Wayne."
"Any lowborn scraping by to survive would rather believe a beautiful lie."
Batcave.
Dick drove an engineering vehicle down into the underground depths.
Before long, he returned with news that was both fortunate and unfortunate.
The fortunate part was that they had indeed dug into a pool filled with Serpent's Blood. The unfortunate part was that what Allen had said about an invasion from the Dark Multiverse might be true.
Bruce dragged his barely recovered body to the underground river.
The pool of Serpent's Blood gave off a verdant glow. Judging by its color and clarity, it was indeed extremely pure.
"Father, how could there be a Lazarus Pit here?"
Damian stared at the pool in shock.
He had seen the Lazarus Pit used for resurrection in The League of Assassins, but he had not known that it was the same substance as Serpent's Blood.
Moreover, The Blade of Redemption had never been recovered, and The League of Assassins had not performed a resurrection ritual in a long time. Those who returned to life became mindless monsters.
Bruce was equally bewildered. He had always believed they were two different things.
After all, Allen had said Serpent's Blood was metal. No matter what, it should have looked like mercury; at the very least, it ought to have resembled liquid metal somewhat.
"Wait until Allen comes tomorrow, then we'll ask him about Serpent's Blood."
Bruce could not bear to destroy the Serpent's Blood, mainly because of its healing and resurrection effects.
He could not guarantee that something would not happen to the people around him. Perhaps one day, it would come in handy.
After all, everyone had selfish desires.
Bruce was no exception.
Besides, he needed to ask Allen whether he had brought back The Blade of Redemption. Used together, the two were equivalent to possessing an unlimited resurrection pool.
During their trip to Silent Hill, he and Oliver had left first and did not know what happened afterward. It might have been left behind in the Inner World.
Therefore, he had not told Damian about The Blade of Redemption, lest that troublesome son provoke The Ninja Master into coming here.
"Take a sample and run tests on it."
Wayne Group possessed numerous cutting-edge technologies. Bruce thought they might be able to devise a way to remove the side effects. If that failed, he could call the Justice League in to study it together.
And if that still did not work, he could bring in those Avengers people and share the Serpent's Blood research technology.
Superheroes saved the world and fought evil, so casualties were inevitable. If they could solve the problem with Serpent's Blood, they would owe him a favor they could never repay.
Then he could stand up straight, speak a little louder, and ask whether anyone present had any objections.
Thinking of that, Bruce could not help smiling to himself.
"Father, what are you smiling about?"
Damian looked at him in confusion. In his mind, Bruce had always been a steady man who rarely smiled.
Bruce rubbed his head. "Adult matters. Children shouldn't ask."
The casual gesture caught Damian somewhat off guard, and an indescribable sense of comfort welled up inside him. Stubbornly, he thought, Is this fatherly love? I don't care for it.
Before you continue