You Need Redemption

"Everyone, I want to play a game with you!"

Seeing the Joker's solemn expression, the six villains' scalps went numb. They knew full well how terrifying the Joker's methods were. To say something that would embarrass Batman, the Joker's influence in Gotham City's underworld far surpassed his. In professional driver terms, the gap was like five consecutive hairpin turns.

"Boss Joker, don't joke around. If you want to take over our territory and men, just say so. We won't resist." The arrogant Black brute secretly swallowed, now cowering like a quail.

The others hurriedly echoed him, declaring their willingness to grovel before the Joker and showering him with all manner of sickening flattery.

On the television, the Joker ignored them and explained the rules. "It's a very simple game. There's a combination lockbox behind the toilet, and the key to the shackles is locked in the alley. I want you to open the box, unlock your restraints, and leave the restroom within ten minutes."

"As for the code to the box, you'll have to use your brains. There's a math problem on the ceiling. Solve it, and you'll get the code!"

The six of them immediately relaxed. The Black brute raised a hand and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. "Hahaha, Boss Joker, you're really funny. But don't make jokes like this next time."

As he spoke, the Black brute looked up at the question on the ceiling, and his expression grew increasingly ugly. As a terrible student, he was ashamed to admit that he could not even understand the question. It was not just him—the others all looked devastated. What were those symbols supposed to mean? The Da Vinci Code?

"I know you can't solve this problem. In fact, no one has solved it to this day. But