Jack stopped breathing for half a second.
Thorne's instincts blared like an alarm.
Too perfect.
Jack's psychological defenses were so perfect that even Thorne, who held three doctorates, shuddered.
Deep within the soul of this seemingly honest, even somewhat timid man lurked a pure, utterly illogical madness taken to its absolute extreme.
That madness was like an active volcano buried beneath ice and snow. Once the ice melted, the erupting magma would destroy everything.
Bruce's madness had limits and a purpose.
But the madness of this man named Jack was a bottomless pit.
Once this meek man was pushed past his breaking point and unleashed his true nature, he would be ten times more terrifying than Bruce and Thorne combined.
"How do you usually relieve stress, Jack?" Thorne's voice grew softer, like the flick of a snake's tongue.
"I..." Jack swallowed, his gaze shifting evasively. "I like telling jokes, although... nobody thinks they're funny. I used to dream of becoming a comedian, but one thing led to another, and I ended up like this."
"A comedian?"
Thorne's heart began to race. It was as if he could see an ancient beast lurking in the darkness, baring its fangs at him from beneath that human skin.
"Yes." Jack lowered his head, looking at his fingers smeared with mousse cake. "Life's already bad enough. Someone has to laugh, right?"
Thorne slowly leaned back against the sofa.
He really had come to the right place today.
Gotham had not only a kindred spirit like Bruce Wayne, who kept a monster sealed inside him, but also an ultimate madman like Jack Napier.
"You'll become a great comedian, Jack." Thorne stood and gave him a long, searching look.
"I hope you're right, Doctor." Jack smiled in bewilderment.
Thorne turned away and returned to Lex Luthor's