Signing In with Scarecrow: The First Steps of an Escape Plan!

After leaving solitary confinement, Link discovered that his treatment had been "upgraded."

The guards who passed him no longer looked at him with the numb indifference they reserved for an ordinary mental patient. Now there was wariness and disgust in their eyes.

Clearly, he had been labeled "dangerous."

But to Link, that was a good thing.

A dangerous man under watch had far more room to maneuver than an invisible man everyone ignored.

Link returned to his cell with his head down, looking meek and obedient, while his mind raced.

The Chaos Force was powerful, but it was more like an invisible key. It could open cracks in people's minds, but it couldn't smash through Arkham's solid gates.

If he wanted to escape, he needed more "tools."

"System, show me the available check-in targets nearby."

[Scanning...]

[Scan complete. Multiple check-in targets detected nearby.]

[Target one: Scarecrow (Jonathan Crane). Check in to receive a B–C-rank reward.]

[Target two: Riddler (Edward Nygma). Check in to receive a B–C-rank reward.]

[Target three: Calendar Man (Julian Day). Check in to receive a D-rank reward.]

Link's attention went straight to the first two.

Scarecrow and Riddler were both longtime Gotham criminals. Neither was as dangerous as Joker, but each had a remarkable specialty.

One was a master of fear; the other was a genius with mechanisms and puzzles.

Their abilities were crucial to what he planned next.

The problem was that they were held in different areas. How could a prisoner under special scrutiny get close to either of them?

He needed a position that would let him move openly through the asylum.

The next day, Link approached the chief guard in charge of his section.

He was a potbellied, middle-aged man whose eyes brimmed with impatience.

"If you've got something to say, make it quick. I don't have time to waste on scum like you." The chief looked disgusted.

Link gave him a timid, ingratiating smile and hunched over, making himself as submissive as possible. "Sir, I... I'd like to apply for a job. I studied library management at university. I could help organize books and clean the library."

The chief looked him up and down suspiciously. "The library? You?"

"Yes, sir. I promise I'll be quiet. I won't cause any trouble." Link's voice trembled slightly. He played the part of a frightened wretch who only wanted somewhere peaceful to hide.

The chief frowned.

Menial jobs at Arkham, like cleaning toilets and working in the kitchen, usually went to patients who seemed the most docile and least threatening.

This kid had caused a major incident only days ago. By rights, he wasn't eligible.

But nobody wanted the library attendant job.

The place was gloomy, bordered several high-security wards, and paid the least.

More importantly, the director had chewed the chief out just yesterday because his men had failed to keep proper watch. He was still in a foul mood.

He needed somewhere to put this troublesome Asian kid so he wouldn't have to look at him.

The library seemed like a decent choice.

"Hmph. At least you know what's good for you." The chief pulled an application form from a drawer and tossed it to Link. "Fill this out, then get your ass to the library and report for duty. Cause me trouble again, and I'll hang you from the flagpole in the exercise yard!"

"Thank you, sir! Thank you!"

Link took the form with a bow and a nod. The moment he turned away, his timid expression vanished, replaced by a cold smile of triumph.

Arkham's library was dark and damp, its air thick with the smell of mildewed paper.

Tall bookshelves stood crookedly, covered in dust and cobwebs.

Link pushed a squeaking cleaning cart along, wiping the shelves at an unhurried pace while his eyes swept the entire library.

In the farthest corner, he spotted his first target.

A bespectacled man with a scholarly air sat in a battered armchair, holding a thick copy of The Psychology of Fear.

He was utterly absorbed, as though nothing around him existed.

Jonathan Crane, formerly a psychology professor at Gotham University, now the supervillain known as Scarecrow.

Link pushed his cart toward him, taking his time.

As he drew closer, the system's prompt sounded right on cue.

[Available check-in target detected: Scarecrow.]

[Check-in requirement: Make physical contact with the target or engage him in an in-depth conversation.]

Link stopped. One look at Crane's scholarly manner gave him an idea.

He picked up his rag and began wiping the shelf beside Crane. His movements were gentle, but they still made a faint noise.

Crane slowly raised his head and adjusted his glasses. The gaze behind the lenses was as sharp as a scalpel.

"You're afraid."

His voice was calm, yet it seemed to see straight through Link.

"I... I'm not." Link flinched as if startled.

"No, you are." Crane closed his book and regarded Link with interest. "Your heart rate is rising, your pupils are contracting, and your palms are sweating. You're afraid of me. Or rather, you're afraid of the unknown."

He really is an expert at playing with fear.

Link sneered inwardly, but let his face grow even more panicked. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just here to clean."

"Everyone fears something, child." Crane stood and slowly stepped in front of Link. Leaning down, he murmured in his ear, "It might be spiders, darkness, death... or the loss of hope."

His voice had an eerie, hypnotic quality.

An icy chill crept up Link's spine, as though countless cold little insects were gnawing at his nerves.

This was Scarecrow's power. With words alone, he could draw out a person's deepest fears.

"Tell me. What do you fear most?" Crane's voice was full of temptation.

Link looked up, his eyes filled with "fear" and "confusion." He reached out as though pleading for help and lightly caught Crane's sleeve.

"I... I'm afraid I'll be locked in here forever."

[Ding!]

[Check-in successful!]

[Congratulations, host! You have received a C-rank reward: Fear Toxin Formula (Basic)!]

[Congratulations, host! You have received a B-rank reward: Mastery of Psychology!]

Got it!

Link was ecstatic, but he kept the look of someone on the verge of breaking down.

Just then, two guards rushed over and shoved Link away.

"Stay away from Dr. Crane! Do you have a death wish?"

Crane watched the guards drag Link away, an amused smile on his face. Then he sat back down and reopened his book.

He thought he had found an interesting new toy.

Little did he know that his "toy" had just stolen the most precious thing he possessed.

After the guards warned him off, Link returned to his cell.

He sat cross-legged on his bed and closed his eyes, taking in the two new "gifts" that had appeared in his mind.

Countless chemical formulas and dosage ratios came into focus with perfect clarity.

At the same time, the theories of Freud, Jung, and other masters of psychology; the mechanisms that triggered mass panic; and the techniques of psychological suggestion all came together in his mind as though he had always understood them.

Link's eyes snapped open, a keen glint flashing through them.

A complete, daring, airtight escape plan took shape in his mind.

The Chaos Force would be the spark that ignited everything.

Mastery of Psychology would be the blueprint that directed the spreading flames.

And the Fear Toxin would be the high-powered explosive that drove the inferno to its peak and set all of Arkham ablaze!

He would unleash a riot unlike anything Arkham had ever seen.

A perfect storm that would tear through the asylum from within, breaking its security system in mind and body alike!

And amid that storm, he would take Harley Quinn and slip silently through the gates of Hell, like a ghost.