Smile (Part 2)

Everyone present heard their whispers, just as the members of the Court of Owls thought: if Alberto lied and pressed the button, it wouldn't be Haru who died, but someone else, and it wasn't just a one in several tens chance that it would be them. Everyone felt that such a chance wouldn't fall on their own.

If Alberto wasn't lying, killing Haru wouldn't have resulted in any loss for them; on the contrary, it would have avoided the risk of Haru landing first and detonating the bomb.

Just as they said, Haru, whose mask has been removed, will die sooner or later. Even if he doesn't die today, the Godfather won't let him see the sun the next day.

"I don't want to die!! I don't want to die! You can't press... Cherie, are you crazy? You want to kill me! You can't press!!!" Haru started crying desperately, tears and snot covering his face, his fat body twisting and turning.

"Hey!" Gordon suddenly stood up, pointed his gun at the tall, thin man, and said, "You can't press it. Murder is illegal. I'll arrest you."

"Really? Detective?" Schiller stood up and said, "He just pressed a button far away, and another person died. What evidence do you have that he killed him? What are you planning to use as the murder weapon? The button?"

"Please! Officer! Don't listen to them, save me!!!" Haru screamed and cried.

Falcone said, "Officer, you can't just shoot without evidence, but you can ask him to prove his identity as a police officer. Even if he doesn't have a driver's license or other identification, he should at least take off his mask."

The tall, thin man cried out in a shrill voice, "No! There's no such rule!! You can't reveal my identity!!!"

"Quickly, Cherie! Kill him! How do you know his belly won't hit the ground during the next descent? We'll all die then!"

"Don't press it! I don't want to die! If you press it, your mask will be ripped off, and you and your family will all die..."

"You can't press that button. You know in your heart that this is murder, and I will arrest you!"

"Of course you can press it! This detective has no evidence, and police rules don't apply here..."

Like a chaotic montage film, everyone is shouting their own reasons, the light slides from one person's face to another, and in less than two seconds, a shot doesn't even have time to focus before switching to the next one.

In the end, it was only when the Joker frantically banged on the triangle that the argument stopped.

Cherie was already drenched in sweat, and Haru was deathly pale. Suddenly, as if he had just realized something, Haru said, "The first answer, the first answer points to a woman! If you dare let Cherie press the button, I'll press mine too!"

"No!" a woman hanging high in the air shouted, "You're insane! Cherie is my lover, I'll have him kill you first, you fat pig, you idiot!"

"Haru... please have mercy, you're already dead. Falcone knows who you are. You know you're going to die, so why aren't you willing to do anything to help us survive?" The woman suddenly started sobbing again.

"You're the one who's crazy! You bitch! Do you really think Cherie is some kind of Europe nobleman? He's just a liar! A poor sailor! You two are a match made in heaven!!"

"If I die, I will drag you all down with me!" Haru shouted, spittle flying everywhere.

"That shitty Court of Owls! That shitty senior councilor! I've had enough! A conman who made his fortune by lying, a whore who rose to power by offering herself up, and you guys! Do you really think you're some big shot? You've always looked down on me!"

Haru seemed to have completely lost his mind, cursing loudly.

Cherie began to tremble, and he said in a tearful voice, "I can't do that. They'll take off my mask. Falcone will kill me, and he'll kill my family. I have a wife and children. God! Save me!"

Upon hearing Cherie's prayer, the priest below made the sign of the cross, but he said nothing.

"Ding-dong! Time's up!" The Joker tapped the triangle and said in a light tone, "He didn't make a choice, so the default is no press. Okay, next!"

He deliberately bypassed the other people and walked to the somewhat aged figure. He said, "It seems you're their leader. Well then, I'll give you a special privilege: you can choose first. Who do you want to pick?"

The old man who was tied up didn't seem flustered. In a low voice, he said, "I choose that professor."

"What?" The Joker pretended not to hear, banging his triangle loudly, and said, "He said he chose Falcone..."

"I heard him choose me." Schiller stood up. The Joker cursed and said irritably, "You've used up your leads, he can't..."

"Then I'll buy another ticket. Your tickets shouldn't be sold out, right? At least..." Schiller glanced at the Joker's suit pocket and said, "You definitely have another one in your pocket. I saw it earlier."

The Joker started rummaging through his pockets, cursing and swearing. After searching for a while, he found a tattered piece of paper. He impatiently crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it at Schiller.

The note fell from mid-air, but somehow it flew toward Schiller caught it.

The old man spoke up, "Even if you have no clues, I chose you just to make a deal with you. I see that you can shake the rules of this game."

"But I'm sorry, there's no reason for an actor to leave halfway through the performance, after all, I paid for a ticket."

"I'm not leaving the game, I just hope the rules will change."

Which part do you want to change?

"If you make a request of me, I can choose not to take the clues and instead ask you to do me a favor."

Tell me your requirements first, and then I'll consider whether to agree or not.

"I'm giving up the button in my hand; you can take it away."

"What? Mr. Meng! Are you crazy? If you don't have a button, what will happen if someone wants to press it to kill you?"

Schiller suddenly lowered his head, chuckled, and said, "It seems you must have been a member of the previous generation of the Court of Owls?"

"I can only say that this method might have worked for your generation, but you have already destroyed your own foundation and chosen the wrong path."

"Do you think that just because you've demonstrated how to get out of this predicament, they'll follow you? If that were the case, they wouldn't have been exposed."

"Everyone understands the principle, and if everyone throws away the button, the show can't continue, and neither the audience nor the host can do anything about it."

"We are not Assassin, our goal is not to kill, we just want to see a good show. If you refuse to perform in this way, we will not carry out Carnage, because that would be too boring."

"But unfortunately, the companions around you are no longer the owls who pursue the ultimate darkness and chaos. They are just shrewd Assassin brainwashed by you with brutal methods. They no longer have your great beliefs that transcend personal interests."

"They won't let go of the button in their hands; they firmly believe it's a weapon used to threaten others into not pressing it."

"Even if I tell them the answer now, they won't be willing to do it."

The old man sighed and said, "It seems there's no hope. I take back my choice. I choose... Batman."

As the word was spoken, countless spotlights focused on Batman once again, and the Joker leaned back, mouth wide open, revealing a look of utter surprise.

He ran quickly to the front of the stage, then waved to the lighting technician, asking him to shine all the spotlights on him. He made faces at Batman, but when Batman ignored him, he rushed into the band, clumsily picked up a drum, moved it to the center of the stage, rolled up his sleeves, and started playing.

After all that fuss, he realized that Batman was completely ignoring him and just stood there silently. Disappointed, the Joker hunched over and said viciously, "I should have tied myself to that. That way, when I say I chose Batman, he'll be very surprised, and maybe even smile."

At that moment, in Batman's eyes, time in the entire opera house began to freeze. Everyone, both on and off the stage, was frozen into a scene from a play, with each person's expression and movements clearly visible.

Falcone was speaking in hushed tones with Father Daniel. His face was etched with the lines of time, but his eyes, beneath his brows, still held a sharp glint.

Batman saw madness there, just as he had seen countless nights standing before his son's bedside, wanting to kill the monster; he might have been driven insane long ago.

Alberto, sitting in the back row, was silent with his head down. He was also insane. On several nights like this, he faced his father's deep malice and hatred, until he plunged a knife into his own father's chest.

Father Daniel, who was talking to the godfather, was also very old, even older Falcone. His white hair floated in the air under the stage lights, but his eyes were full of kindness and peace.

But he may have gone mad long ago. No normal person would think that a faith could save Gotham, yet he still dutifully served as a priest here. He even became a good priest, but in Gotham, the better one is, the madder one becomes.

The same goes for Sheriff Gordon. He may seem like the most normal person in Gotham, but he is a cop, a real cop, a good cop with a sense of justice and unwavering beliefs. Such a person could appear anywhere in the world without seeming out of place, but he chose to stay in Gotham, and he was just as mentally unstable.

And the professor... he's just insane.

The Joker... well, he's gone mad anyway.

Batman stood amidst this group of lunatics, watching their frozen movements, watching them stand still on the stage, and then the stage began to rotate.

The stage spun faster and faster, and amidst the shifting light and shadow, it transformed into a frenzied vortex. Batman stood at the center of the vortex, and was gradually swallowed up.

He felt he must be going crazy too.

He was convinced that he might indeed be insane.

In the center of the rotating stage, Batman stretched out his palm, holding a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. It was the ticket he had received, and also the clue he was about to read.

But just now, when Batman opened it, he found that it was completely blank, with nothing written on it.