The rain showed no signs of abating.
The human-shaped pile of ashes was quickly mixed into the filthy drains of Hell's Kitchen.
The Joker slid down the tower crane, grabbing onto a steel cable.
The leather shoe landed on the ground, splashing up a ring of dirty water.
He ignored the red figure radiating a menacing aura not far away, and instead squatted curiously beside the pile of dirt.
He extended his white-gloved finger, dipped it in the grayish-black mud, and sniffed it vigorously.
"It's instant? These days, villains will stop at nothing to protect the environment."
The Joker disdainfully smeared the ash on his purple coat.
"Tsk, they even saved on body disposal fees, how thrifty!"
Daredevil had no interest in stand-up comedy; he pointed his short stick directly at the Joker's forehead. "Who are those people? Why are they looking for you?"
Looking for me? No, no, no.
The Joker stood up and straightened his bow tie.
"I posted on the dark web that there's a treasure that can grant immortality buried under this construction site. I was originally trying to lure Kingpin out for some fun, but who knew what was up with these mute guys? Scammers these days are getting easier and easier to fool."
Daredevil suddenly felt a ridiculous anger.
So many rioters died and so many civilians were injured, all because this madman told a lie online?
"What do you think this place is? An amusement park?"
"Otherwise what? A church?"
The Joker tilted his head, his eyes, heavily circled with dark circles, fixed intently on Daredevil.
"Do you know, Little Red Riding Hood?"
The Joker's voice lowered.
You remind me of an old friend.
"He, like you, likes to wear tight clothes at night and likes to stand on the dripping beast and act profound. He also has a damn, meaningless bottom line: don't kill, hand the bad guys over to the police, believe in the justice of the law... Ugh."
The Joker made a vomiting face.
"But he's richer than you, and better equipped. Most importantly, he has a pair of pointy ears."
The Joker held up two fingers above his head.
Without those ears, you look like a middle-aged office worker who's just been laid off.
Daredevil didn't want to understand what he was saying.
"The game is over."
With a flick of his wrist, he seized the Joker's shoulder.
With just a little more force, he could dislocate the madman's shoulder joint and end this absurd farce.
"Got you?"
"Sizzle--smack!"
Blue electricity pierced through his battle suit.
Daredevil groaned, his muscles spasming violently under the electric current, distorting what was supposed to be a sure-fire grappling move.
The Joker emerged from the purple coat while Daredevil was paralyzed.
"How about a warm handshake? This is just a little toy that can stun an Africa elephant on the spot, don't be shy."
The Joker, wearing a green shirt with suspenders cinching his thin chest, stood on a pile of steel bars five meters away.
He exaggeratedly waved his hands while making faces at Daredevil, who was still convulsing.
"See, that's why I said you're a cheap substitute for that person."
The Joker picked up the yellow helmet and spun it on his finger like a basketball.
"If it were him, that insulating rubber bodysuit would have absorbed the current long ago. And he would have punched me instead of doing what you did..."
The Joker mimicked Matthew's earlier convulsions, letting out a series of grotesque cackling laughs.
"Like a tap dancer who stepped on an electric wire."
Daredevil gritted his teeth and straightened up; the numbness was fading.
I don't care what nonsense you're spouting. You broke the law, and you have to pay the price!
"Law? Hahahaha!"
The Joker was laughing so hard he couldn't stand up straight.
"That word again! You say it, he says it! You freaks in tight suits, is that the only word on your heads?"
The Joker's smile vanished abruptly, his eyes turning venomous.
"That rich guy drives a tank-like luxury car, lives in a castle that looks like Batcave, and can fix his back with money even if he gets a broken spine. He calls it maintaining order."
The Joker pointed a finger at Daredevil, who was covered in mud and had his suit torn.
"And you? Look at you. All cheap clothes, your weapons are two broken sticks, not even a decent logo. Every time you get hurt, you can only hide in some run-down apartment and lick your wounds like a dog."
"You are not a guardian of order, Little Red Riding Hood. You are a complication of this sick city."
Daredevil doesn't waste any words.
He doesn't need to refute the logic of a madman.
A red figure suddenly appeared.
If we can't catch him, then we'll break his legs!
The short stick whistled through the air as it struck the Joker's knee.
"Click."
The Joker's left leg was bent at an odd angle.
But he didn't scream; he laughed, even more happily than before.
"Well done! One point!"
The Joker dragged his broken leg, his body falling backward from the impact of the blow.
A remote control had appeared in his hand without his knowledge.
"But this is a construction site, dear Little Red Riding Hood. It's dangerous not to wear a hard hat on a construction site, and touching other people's things... is even more dangerous."
He pressed the button.
"Sizzle..."
A wisp of smoke, smelling burnt, was emanating from the end of the remote control.
The Joker stopped the Batman Who Laughs, held the crudely made black plastic box up to his eyes, and slapped it twice.
"That damn Russia bastard lied to me! He said it was military grade!"
The Joker angrily threw the remote control on the ground, and even stomped on it a couple of times with his intact leg.
"I'm going to give him a bad review! I'm going to file a complaint with the Consumer Association!"
Daredevil didn't give him that chance.
Take advantage of the moment when this madman is venting his frustrations and quickly approach him.
The short stick flashed through the air and struck the Joker on the back of the neck.
There were no fancy parries, nor any dramatic reversals.
"Well..."
The Joker rolled his eyes, and his thin body slumped limply into the puddle.
The sound of sirens finally rang out, and more than a dozen police cars surrounded the ruined construction site.
Officers from the 15th Precinct stormed in, guns at the ready, beams of tactical flashlights flashing wildly among the corpses and rubble.
" My God..."
Sergeant Brett, who was leading the team, looked at the scene of carnage, his palms sweating as he gripped his gun.
Daredevil stood in the Shadow high above, like a silent, dripping beast.
"He's yours now."
A hoarse voice came from above.
Brett looked up, but only caught a glimpse of the red hem of the garment disappearing into the darkness.
"Keep him under surveillance! Treat him like a serious criminal! And call an ambulance... no, call a prison van!"
Two riot police officers roughly lifted the unconscious Joker and dragged him toward the specially made armored vehicle containing an iron cage.
During the dragging, the Joker's severed lower leg twisted eerily, his toes leaving a long trail in the mud.
No one noticed that the man, who should have been in a deep coma, was twitching his lips very slightly with the jolting.
He was smiling.