When Bruce woke again, it was already daylight. The dreams he had that night had been a complete mess. Still, it seemed he had seen that man's memories again. The mummified corpse in the Joker costume had apparently been a handsome scumbag in life, stealing the hearts of countless girls.
But something about it was strange. Leaving aside whether he had actually been a rich second-generation heir, with a face like that, what beautiful girl could he not win over? Especially wealthy young women from big cities—he could have charmed one with ease. Find just one, and he would never have had to worry about food or money for the rest of his life, let alone dress up as a Joker to make others laugh.
Yet the woman he had claimed he would take home and marry looked like a prostitute, and the kind of clandestine prostitute who could not stand the light of day. Her looks were ordinary, and there seemed to be nothing special about her. Why had he chosen her?
Bruce knew that the man had likely truly taken this woman back to his hometown and married her. After all, the man's daughter Amy had exactly the same hair and eye color as that prostitute, and their features resembled each other somewhat. They should have been mother and daughter.
Bruce felt there had to be something suspicious behind this. He needed to find more clues about the circus. Although the warehouse had now burned down, there had to be things fire could not destroy. He planned to look around there again.
Together with Kent, he returned to the ruins of the warehouse. It truly had burned almost completely away. The town did not even have a police station, much less a Fire Department. It had burned through