Heh, what a thrill

Jerome stood blankly beside Ririko, watching her empty the plate of cookies one by one.

His gaze followed her pale hand up and down as he tried to understand how this counted as "sharing."

After finishing the cookies, Ririko found a seat by the window.

Jerome tossed the plate aside and sat down with her.

Ririko reached up and tossed her long hair, and he reached up to toss long hair he didn't have.

Ririko frowned at the way he copied her... What an idiot.

Still, she didn't mind. As long as he stayed within her effective range of ten meters, she could accumulate his infatuation value.

After all, he was Jerome. He might prove very useful someday.

Recreation time ended at four.

A guard came to handcuff Jerome and lead him away.

Before leaving, he glanced back at Ririko to check whether she was watching him.

Ririko watched him, confirming that his infatuation value had risen from 10 to 14. Satisfied, she waved him off, urging him to go.

After getting a response, Jerome seemed to walk with a lighter step.

When Ririko returned to the Isolation Ward, she immediately detected a scent in the room that wasn't hers.

It was Herman's.

She had entered the room while Ririko was away.

The bed looked the same, but someone had moved the pillow.

Someone had picked up her pillow to inspect it, then put it back.

Ririko knew what Herman wanted.

That bitch must have been checking that she hadn't hidden anything.

She wanted to make sure Ririko's beauty was being eroded, bit by bit, in this gray-green room with no conditioner or skincare products.

Unfortunately, Ririko wasn't going to give her what she wanted.

Ririko fluffed her pillow and lay down.

The best way to deal with someone as mad with jealousy as Herman was to obtain the very thing that bitch wanted most but could never have.

If Herman dared to oppose Harley, she must have believed she had Hugo's support.

That bitch liked Hugo.

Unfortunately, Hugo would never, in his entire life, like someone like Herman.

At that thought, one word came to Ririko's mind-thrilling.

Harley Quinn walked into Hugo's laboratory.

He stood at a workbench, engrossed in adjusting a microscope.

"Professor Strange, Ririko has been moved to another ward. I need to know why."

Hugo didn't look up. His fingertips continued precisely adjusting the microscope's knobs.

"I'll collect the necessary data. You don't need to trouble yourself."

Harley heard what he was implying.

He didn't want her to have any more contact with Ririko.

"Just focus on Jerome," Hugo said coldly. "Cobblepot has already asked about our progress."

Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, an underworld mob boss, had recently begun looking to extend his dirty reach into politics.

He had dumped Jerome on them, asking them to turn that hot potato into a controllable "weapon."

Harley replied in an equally professional tone, "Jerome's 'modification' is complete. His condition is stable, and he's ready to be handed over."

Hugo stepped away from the microscope and sat down at his desk, regarding her across it.

"What we hand over to Cobblepot can't just be an obedient tool. He also needs to be a tool we can control."

Harley took a step forward. "Rest assured, I'm quite confident I can control him."

Arkham had never been anyone's talent pool.

Arkham could only be Hugo Strange's testing ground.

Hugo nodded and said coldly, "You may leave."

But Harley didn't leave. She took another step forward, trying to reclaim her authority.

"I need surveillance access to Ririko."

Hugo tilted his head up, his piercing gaze seeming to scrutinize Harley.

Harley pressed her lips into a straight line and met his eyes without flinching, neither servile nor overbearing.

This was her sixth year as his assistant. In all six years, she had never once spoken against him.

And now, a single test subject had created a rift in their unspoken understanding.

"Ririko will be entering the next phase of the experiment," he said.

"What is the next phase?" A trace of resentment at being kept in the dark entered Harley's voice.

Hugo folded his hands, concealing his face in their shadow. "That needs to remain confidential for now."

Harley refused to let it go. "What is the next phase?" she asked again.

Hugo stared at her.

"Doctor Quinn... are you looking to take the position of Chief Physician now?"

Harley straightened, her upright posture maintaining the distance between superior and subordinate.

"No," she said.

"Then you may leave," he repeated.

Harley knew clearly that Hugo had changed.

There was now something he valued more than the experiment.

Ririko.

She admitted that Ririko was special. That was precisely what worried her-that Hugo would become so obsessed he couldn't pull himself out.

She silently resolved to put a stop to this experiment herself when necessary.

When Ririko got up that morning, she carefully examined the changes in her skin in the mirror.

Overnight, her skin had become even more delicate and supple. Even her hair, despite having no conditioner, had grown shinier and sleeker.

She poured the watery meal Herman had brought into the toilet.

She needed to act as though "everything was normal," letting that bitch believe she hadn't noticed her "extreme jealousy."

She wanted Herman to think she was living a "miserable" life in Arkham, to cling to the hope that she would grow ever duller and older.

She wanted her to stew day and night, impatient for the result, only to discover in despair that Ririko was still just as beautiful.

Heh, what a thrill.

Two in the afternoon.

Ririko arrived at the recreation room.

A figure appeared in the doorway.

The red-haired Jerome crept furtively into the recreation room.

One hand was hidden in the pocket of his patient gown, while the other stayed pressed against his side, as though protecting something.

His hair was even messier than yesterday. A few strands hung over his forehead, hiding the electrotherapy mark stretching from the end of his eyebrow to his hairline.

Ririko watched him coldly. The idiot thought nobody could see him, but his behavior drew more attention than that of any lunatic here.

His amber eyes quickly swept the recreation room, then he hurried toward Ririko, like a fox carrying food through the grass and trying not to be spotted by other animals.

He stopped in front of her, abruptly pulled a paper bag from his pocket, and held it out.

Ririko's right eye lit up.

She reached out and took the paper bag. This should be the hamburger she'd wanted.

"Good job."

She sounded as though she were praising a dog for fetching a Frisbee.

She eagerly opened the paper bag, only for something to fall out.

It wasn't a hamburger. It was a Clown Doll.

Ririko stared wide-eyed at the ugly, useless thing, instantly seething.

"Where's the hamburger?" Ririko asked.

She had been eagerly anticipating a hamburger, but the delicious food that had practically been at her lips had suddenly become a plastic toy.

Jerome smiled smugly. "Today, I wanted to share this with you."

Then he mysteriously shielded the right side of his face with his left hand, leaned toward her, and asked, "Happy?"

Ririko looked at the red-haired, green-clothed Clown Doll in the paper bag, then at the expression on Jerome's face...

She shoved the doll back into his hand.

Had being in Arkham so long made me an idiot too?

I actually thought an idiot would bring me something tasty...

Utterly disappointed, she turned toward the table with the cookies.

A hand reached out from behind her and caught her wrist.

She stopped.

Jerome's palm was rough, but scorching hot.

He held out another paper bag to her.

This paper bag bulged and was larger than the first.

Ririko turned around and looked at Jerome.

"I don't want your toys. Keep them and play with them yourself."

Ririko didn't want him to trick her again.