Jack reached up and raked a hand through his freshly dyed green hair, deliberately messing it into a wild tangle to restore his usual Joker image. He had even somehow gotten hold of a bright purple short-sleeved shirt, as if specifically to remind Bruce that he was the Joker.
Bruce did not immediately understand what Jack meant. It took him several seconds to process it before he realized Jack might be implying that he had failed the test again.
Bruce turned to survey his surroundings. This was the basement of a residential apartment building. Though it was underground, the building was high-end enough that it looked more like a windowless hotel room, warm and comfortable.
The warmth in Bruce's stomach told him that he had just eaten his fill. The warehouse inventory they had compiled showed that there was enough food to feed all the children in the gang for half a month.
No matter how he looked at it, establishing a solid foothold in a city like Gotham in less than two weeks should not count as dealing a heavy blow to Schiller's reputation in education, should it?
Bruce stated his opinion plainly, but Jack let out a deep sigh. "I'm really glad I'm not your Psychology Professor. Oh, wait, didn't Schiller say Batman and Joker's abilities would change in equal measure???"
The moment he finished speaking, Jack darted to the corridor window, putting as much distance between himself and Bruce as possible. Bruce looked at him helplessly and said, "You're acting as though I'm some kind of contagious disease called failing psychology."
"Not acting." Jack flashed a fake smile, his feet never stopping as though he intended to slip away just like that.
Then Bruce blocked him in the corridor, shoved him back into the room, pressed him