"Do we know each other?" Brucie looked up and asked.
But that was kind of a pointless question. There probably wasn't anyone in Gotham who didn't know Brucie Wayne, or Batwoman.
"More or less. We're just not the same."
The woman in the owl mask smiled, pulled a detonator from her pocket, and pressed it.
With a boom, the already-collapsed structure gave way again.
"Joker, I don't think you'd be this quiet, would you?"
The woman turned to look at Harley Quinn, who was crouching before a blown-open safe and flipping through paper documents. This didn't seem like her.
When they had first met, Harley had been yelling and fighting, spraying one of her Talons with an assault rifle.
But after Harley arrived here, she had suddenly gone quiet. It was strange, though she was a lunatic, so perhaps it was normal.
"I found a delicious big cake, only to realize that I wasn't the one slicing it, and I wasn't the one eating it either."
Harley angrily threw down the documents in her hand and complained, "I can't even pick up the cake and smash it in someone's face! This feels really awful!"
The woman was somewhat surprised by that. She couldn't understand what a lunatic was saying, nor did she want to.
"Found it!" A Talon leaped up from below.
After years of Brucie's excavation and development, this Batcave had become a vertical-shaft structure.
At the very bottom, it stored many things, including a glass prison specially prepared for the Joker, though it had never been used.
Brucie quickly turned to look. She strained again, but it was useless. This platform had been custom-made for prisoners.
That included strength-based enemies. The leather restraints on it only tightened the more someone struggled.
She had never imagined that one day,