In front of a simple iron table sits a large, bubbling stew.
The broth in the pot had a color that was hard to describe precisely; if I had to, it was like a rainbow mix. Several irregularly shaped pieces of meat tumbled up and down with the bubbles, occasionally making a crisp metallic sound as they collided.
Chen Mo sat at one side of the table.
V sat opposite him.
Sitting next to her was a woman in a white coat. She had messy long blonde hair, and her face was covered by a half-medical mask. The eye that was exposed was painted with exaggerated red eyeshadow.
She is cutting meat with a scalpel.
Chen Mo glanced at it again.
It wasn't a dinner knife, it was a scalpel, and it had just been used.
"Don't be nervous, this knife was just used for a heart bypass surgery on a guy."
The woman looked up and said with a grin, "But don't worry, I've already disinfected it."
Chen Mo glanced again at the blood-stained knife in her hand.
"Your so-called disinfection is just dipping it in alcohol?"
"No, I licked it."
Harley Quinn answered seriously.
Chen Mo fell silent.
V picked up the cheap alcohol in front of him, took a sip silently, and seemed to have gotten used to his companion's mental state.
The Joker sat at the head of the iron table, holding a chipped spoon. He still wore the white mask, and his red smile looked particularly exaggerated in the dim light.
"Dude, don't worry about her."
The Joker tapped the rim of the bowl with his spoon, making a clinking sound.
"She used to be the chief surgeon at a prosthetic hospital, but the hospital went out of business, and now she can only fix arms and stitch up heads for us poor folks."
Harley Quinn rolled her eyes.
"You talk as if you've ever paid me a salary."
I gave you an IOU.
"I already used that IOU to wipe my own ass; at least it's still somewhat useful."
The two exchanged a few words, then quickly lowered their heads and resumed eating.
Chen Mo looked at the meat in the pot, shrugged, and still picked up his chopsticks.
He had just confirmed from Buck's memories that most of the synthetic meat in this world was made from discarded prosthetics, degenerated proteins, and some unknown substance.
As for what exactly this pot of food is made of, no one can give a definitive answer.
Chen Mo picked up a piece of meat, put it in his mouth, and chewed it.
It tastes like rotten rubber, with a hint of engine oil.
He swallowed it.
"It tastes alright compared to what I expected."
V raised his eyes.
"Not bad? Are you sure?"
"Of course, I've eaten much worse stuff before."
Chen Mo wiped his mouth and casually said, "That time it was mainly because the food would rebel, making it more troublesome to deal with."
The Joker paused for a moment as he held up the bowl.
The gaze behind the mask fell back on Chen Mo.
You don't look like someone from around here.
"You've already discovered it?"
"Of course, you don't seem like the type to keep a low profile, but we've never heard of you before."
The Joker stirred the soup in the bowl with a spoon, his tone still as if he were telling a very ordinary joke.
"However, there used to be quite a few very powerful guys here."
"There's a guy with a freeze gun who likes to freeze people inside blocks of ice. And there's a masked woman who can disable all the guns on the street at once."
V slowed down his eating, listening intently to the Joker speak.
Chen Mo raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.
The Joker continued, "They all think they can change the city, that they can pull Nite Owl and Luthor off their thrones."
"Then what?"
"Then they died."
The Joker's tone remained unchanged.
"Some died in Nite Owl's surveillance system; just as they were about to take action, their family's location was transmitted to them. Others died in Luthor's lab, their bodies dismantled into parts, their abilities stored in incubation chambers."
He tapped the table lightly.
"Some people didn't even know their teammates had been bribed until they died."
Harley Quinn put down the scalpel, her smile fading slightly.
"After those people died, Nite Owl made a propaganda video out of their bodies."
"The heroes' heads were fixed to the advertising screen, with safety warnings playing next to them. Luthor, on the other hand, sold their ability data to the military for a decent price."
The area around the iron table gradually quieted down.
The machinery in the distance was still running, the sound of gears grinding could be heard intermittently.
The Joker lowered his head and rummaged through the pieces of meat in his bowl.
"I was originally just Joker clown in a circus."
"Every day I would wear ridiculous clothes, tumble a few times, and make the audience laugh. I was very happy then, because the job of Joker is to make people temporarily forget their troubles, and I did that."
He looked up at Chen Mo.
"Later I realized that laughter only numbs others."
"The butcher's knife has long been placed at everyone's neck."
The Joker dipped the spoon into the broth, his voice becoming deep for the first time.
"When a person has to pay taxes even to breathe, sign debt contracts for the birth of a child, and hand over their organs to a company to continue making money after death, there has to be a madman who will stand up and overturn the table."
These words were very touching.
At least V's eyes lit up, and Harley Quinn picked up the bottle again.
Chen Mo simply lowered his head and chewed the piece of meat in his mouth.
He'd heard similar things far too many times.
Some want to save the world, some want to overthrow tyranny, and some want to grant freedom to everyone.
These wishes may not be untrue.
But between wishes and outcomes, there is often a mountain of corpses.
Chen Mo could understand them.
You can also respect them.
Understanding doesn't mean he'll give it away for free.
He had no objection to the group wanting to overturn the table. The problem was, what if the table hit him first after it fell?
Thinking of this, Chen Mo picked up another piece of meat.
You know what?
This stuff tastes awful, but it's quite filling.
The Joker clearly sensed his attitude and put down the spoon in his hand.
You seem uninterested in my story.
"Oh, actually I'm quite interested."
"Then why do you look like you're listening to street gossip?"
"Well, because I was actually listening to gossip on the street."
Chen Mo raised his head, his tone very sincere.
"And your melon tastes much better than your meat soup."
V almost spat out the wine in his mouth.
Harley Quinn clutched her stomach and burst into laughter.
But the Joker didn't laugh.
He stared intently at Chen Mo, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.
"Alright, then we won't tell the story."
The Joker stood up and walked up to Chen Mo.
"I want you to join us and help us smash the thrones of Nite Owl and Luthor."
The air grew quiet.
V sat up straight, and Harley Quinn stopped laughing.
Chen Mo swallowed the meat in his mouth, took out a tissue, and slowly wiped his fingers.
Then, he suddenly grabbed a rusty dinner knife from the side of the table.
puff!
The blade pierced through the iron table, stopping less than half an inch in front of the Joker's fingertips.
The Joker didn't react at all, remaining standing there, looking at Chen Mo through the mask.
Chen Mo grinned.
Why should I help you?