Batwoman swayed aside to evade the Joker's pounce, grabbed the stone beast's long neck, and swung herself up like she was on a horizontal bar. She flipped nimbly back onto the rooftop and landed steadily.
She glanced at the purple figure collapsing in a comical pose but did not pursue him. Instead, she folded her arms and said coldly:
"You escaped again."
Strictly speaking, it did not count as an escape. Arkham Asylum was not a prison; it was a sealed sanatorium for treating highly dangerous psychiatric patients.
The people confined there were patients first and foremost. That distinction had to be clear.
Simply put, mentally sound criminals had no chance to enter Arkham for advanced study and enlightenment. The minimum admission requirement was being a deranged serial killer with dozens of lives on their hands.
"Mmm, I know escaping is naughty, hee hee, but Gotham had a blackout earlier. My cell door opened all by itself, really, I'm not lying, so I just wandered out. Nobody stopped me, either. I figured it might be God's arrangement, so I decided we should play another game. Hahahahahaha!"
The Joker wriggling on the ground rolled over. Under the misty rain, his white face looked even more damp, but that crazed laughter seemed as unchanging as ever.
"I'm not in the mood to play with you today. I'm taking you back."
The Dark Knight prepared to act. If the Joker had only just escaped, then he surely had not prepared a game yet, and that would make it no fun.
"Hey, don't be in such a hurry." The Joker sprang up from the ground and backed away a few steps, waving both hands constantly. "You say you're not in the mood today. Did something happen? Why not tell me about it? Hee hee,