He Was a Scumbag, After All

Ririko had just put the last spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth when footsteps sounded outside the door.

The door opened.

Harley Quinn entered, pushing a small cart loaded with medical equipment.

She was impeccably dressed, a high-necked white shirt showing beneath the collar of her lab coat. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun, and her gaze behind narrow gold-rimmed glasses carried an air of authority.

"Good morning," she said.

"Good morning, Doctor Quinn." Ririko sat obediently on the edge of the bed.

Harley placed her tablet on the cart's upper shelf and took a pair of disposable rubber gloves from her coat pocket.

"I need to perform a routine examination. If you cooperate, we'll be done in five minutes."

She paused.

"If you don't, it will take longer, and I can't guarantee you'll find the process comfortable."

Ririko nodded.

Her gaze swept discreetly over the system panel.

[Core Character: Harley Quinn]

[Identity: Chief researcher at Arkham Comprehensive Treatment Center/Doctor of psychiatry]

[Current Infatuation Value: 8/100]

[Infatuation Value interpretation: Professional interest, with the occasional lingering glance]

Ririko could more or less guess who had changed her clothes after she was transferred from Crime Alley to Arkham.

"Temperature first."

Harley picked up an ear thermometer and approached Ririko.

She bent down, gently cupped Ririko's chin in her left hand to hold her head at the right angle, and inserted the thermometer's probe into her right ear.

Beep.

"36.5°C." Harley glanced at the display and recorded the number on her tablet.

Blood pressure came next.

Like an emotionless robot, Harley recorded her physical measurements one by one.

Then came the wound inspection.

Harley gently peeled back the tape along the edge of the gauze over her left eye.

Ririko noticed something: whenever Harley examined her, her gaze always lingered a little longer on her face.

"The wound is healing well," Harley said, securing the gauze again.

But privately, Harley was puzzled. Ririko's wound seemed to be healing too well. If not for the missing eyeball in her socket, she hardly looked as though she had suffered a serious gunshot injury.

Her slender fingers pressed lightly around Ririko's temple.

"Have you experienced any headaches, nausea, blurred vision, or other discomfort?"

"No," Ririko said. "Doctor Quinn, I wanted to ask... when can I see Professor Strange?"

Harley's hand was still near Ririko's temple. At the question, her movements paused.

"Why do you want to see him?" Harley asked.

Ririko had prepared her answer long ago and said with feigned innocence:

"He said he wanted to observe me. Which room is he in? You can just send me over."

Harley stared at her.

She was trying to determine whether Ririko was serious or playing dumb.

No one ever willingly sought out Strange.

She decided to assume that the brain trauma from being shot had caused some decline in Ririko's intelligence.

She said coldly:

"Professor Strange can observe you through the surveillance system. There's no need for you to remain beside him."

Ririko blinked her right eye. How had she forgotten about surveillance cameras?

"Now," Harley said, extending her rubber-gloved hand, "I need to examine your physical condition. Please take off your clothes."

Ririko's hand unconsciously tightened around the collar of her hospital gown.

If there was a camera in this room, how could she let that old man watch her undress for free?

Flirting with him to raise his Infatuation Value was one thing. Letting him take advantage of her in such a sleazy way was another.

Harley was somewhat puzzled by her reaction.

"What's wrong?"

Ririko's right eye flicked toward a corner of the ceiling.

"Didn't you say Professor Strange was watching me through the cameras? Then won't he see me if I undress here?"

The corner of Harley's left eye twitched almost imperceptibly.

She was actually worried that Strange would... peep at her?

That man devoted himself entirely to his research in the laboratory. He was practically a god. Would he really stoop to the same filthy tricks as other men to ogle a "test subject"?

She took a deep breath before steadying her voice.

"I've already turned off the surveillance in this room. Your privacy will be protected."

Ririko kept her right hand clenched around her collar, narrowing her right eye as she eyed Harley.

"You say it's off, so it's off? How do I know you're telling the truth?"

The corner of Harley Quinn's mouth twitched.

"This is Arkham. You are a test subject under medical observation."

She took a step forward.

"I'm giving you two choices. First, cooperate with the examination. Second, refuse, and I'll have the orderlies come in and hold you down while I finish... your choice."

Ririko puffed out her cheeks.

Digging in her heels wouldn't work now. If three burly men pinned her to the bed, she would really come out worse for it.

Without a word, she slipped both arms out of the gown's sleeves, raised her hands, and pulled it off.

She wore the white underwear provided in her room, probably the sort sold in buy-two-get-one-free supermarket deals.

Seeing that she had finally given in, Harley began the examination.

When her fingertips brushed over Ririko's back, she was surprised to discover a distinctive quality to her skin.

It was so fine and smooth that her fingers glided over it without the slightest resistance.

Harley's fingertips lingered a little longer at her waist.

Ririko noticed.

[Current Infatuation Value: 9/100]

Huh? Ririko wondered.

She distinctly remembered that, in one timeline, Harley Quinn would become Jerome Valeska's girlfriend, and together they would turn Gotham upside down.

But now, the "Infatuation Value" that should have belonged to Jerome had quietly begun to shift.

Did that mean she could bring Harley over to her side?

That would be fantastic!

The thought flashed through Ririko's mind.

Just then, she realized Harley's hand was still resting on her waist.

Ririko leaned gently toward her.

"I'm perfectly healthy. You don't need to check anymore. Everything's fine."

Harley moved her hand away from Ririko's waist.

"No abnormalities detected so far." Harley recorded something on her tablet, her gray eyes fixed on the screen rather than Ririko.

"Put your clothes back on."

Ririko quickly pulled up the hospital gown around her waist and leisurely fastened its buttons.

"Doctor Quinn, you're pretty nice."

Harley's hands paused as she packed up the equipment.

No one at Arkham ever said that to her.

The people here were either utterly depraved lunatics or members of various factions looking to get involved.

To everyone in Arkham, she was either a "superior," a "threat," or a "tool."

No one had ever thought she was "pretty nice."

She turned around.

"Are you settling in here?" she asked.

Ririko's right eye curved slightly, holding a hint of a sly smile.

Here was her chance.

"This place is too bare-bones. There isn't even any conditioner... and there's no mirror. How are we girls supposed to live without a mirror? Right?"

She deliberately appealed to the fact that they were both women, hoping to make Harley lower her guard further.

Harley quietly listened to her entire complaint about conditioner and mirrors.

Trapped in Arkham as a test subject, and all she wanted was conditioner and a mirror... wasn't she far too pampered?

Harley sighed inwardly.

"If you cooperate with the follow-up examinations, I'll arrange some basic toiletries for you. No mirror, but I can give you a comb."

Ririko's right eye instantly lit up.

"Really? Doctor Quinn, you're so good to me."

Putting on a soft, sweet voice, she leaned forward from the edge of the bed like a cat that had heard a bag of treats rustle.

[Current Infatuation Value: 10/100]

Ririko watched the number change and silently nodded to herself.

Good. Very good.

If Harley's Infatuation Value kept rising, she probably wouldn't fall in love with Jerome.

Ririko decided to add another safeguard.

"Oh, by the way, Doctor Quinn..." She brought up the subject with feigned casualness.

"The room next to mine... is that Jerome Valeska in there? I recognize that red hair."

Harley gave a cool grunt in acknowledgment.

"Valeska..." Ririko adopted a look of recollection. "I've seen him on the news. I heard he's toyed with lots of women... and forced them to do all sorts of awful things."

Harley frowned and said disdainfully, "I'm not familiar with his private life."

Ririko lowered her voice. "You should be careful. Especially a beauty like you. Don't give that scumbag a chance to take advantage."

Hearing Ririko call her a beauty, Harley fell silent for a moment.

[Current Infatuation Value: 11/100]

"Understood."

She walked out.

Ririko sat alone on the bed, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingertips.

She glanced sidelong toward the room's camera and slowly curled her lips into a defiant smile.