Chapter 31: Joker: Batman, Save Me!
"This is Conning Street. The Joker gang's firepower is too strong! Requesting immediate backup!"
"Headquarters, trouble on Wayne Avenue—over a hundred Joker gang members are wreaking havoc! Requesting deployment of riot squads!"
"Patrol team on Falls Street requesting support! We're surrounded by the Joker gang!"
…
A series of distress calls crackled over the police radio, making the Bat-Family's expressions darken.
The Court of Owls issue wasn't even resolved yet, and now the Joker gang was rioting.
"Forget about me, go handle the situation."
Bruce smelled a conspiracy but still ordered them to act.
Gotham couldn't do without the Bat-Family. Nor could they let criminals run rampant.
Without hesitation, they rushed to the city, hoping to end things quickly and return.
At this moment, Allen rode out on his electric scooter.
The Arkham Asylum guards, of course, wouldn't let him in. As always, he took the unconventional route.
Passing by a patch of wilderness, he stopped his scooter and looked at the thriving wildflowers.
"Showing up empty-handed to visit the sick is rude."
Allen got off, picked some wildflowers, and even thoughtfully wrapped them in yesterday's relief center burger wrapper.
"Chief Chen was right—even a piece of toilet paper has its purpose."
With that, he sped toward Wayne Manor.
"Hey, Butler-Man, open the gate!"
Allen shouted toward the iron gate, but no response came.
He turned to the doorbell button.
Ding-dong!
He waited a full minute. Still no one.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
"Did Batsy and Butler-Man elope?"
Allen calmly analyzed the situation and immediately dismissed the thought. Then, he reached a conclusion:
"No way. They must be hiding inside, watching questionable movies."
Ding-ding-ding-dong!
Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-dong!
Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding—
Frustrated, Allen furiously jabbed at the doorbell, mashing the button repeatedly. Someone had to come out and answer for this.
Sizzle…
A spark flashed. The doorbell let out a puff of white smoke.
Allen withdrew his hands in confusion, looking innocently at the now-broken doorbell.
Glancing around to make sure no one saw, he let out a breath of relief and patted the device.
"Sorry, little guy. I know this was too much pressure for you at your age. Try to grow up stronger next time."
With that, he hoisted his scooter and chucked it over the manor's fence. Then, he climbed over and landed inside.
"I'm already here—leaving on an empty stomach would be a loss."
After all, those flowers weren't free. At the very least, he deserved a meal.
Roaming the vast halls of Wayne Manor on his scooter, Allen couldn't help but feel sour.
"A house this big? Just going to the bathroom would cost the cab's starting fare."
He rode straight into the elevator, heading down to the Batcave.
Ding!
The elevator doors opened, revealing Alfred—lying on the ground, covered in blood.
"Butler-Man, what happened to you?"
Allen rushed over in concern.
"Alfred, the floor's cold—you'll catch a cold if you lie there."
"Allen… save Master Wayne…"
Alfred, barely conscious, weakly pointed toward a gaping underground pit.
"Batsy, you reckless fool! You never listen!"
Peering down the hole, Allen looked disappointed, shaking his head. Then, he picked up Alfred.
"I can only promise you'll be buried in the same grave."
"…"
What the hell is wrong with this lunatic?!
Alfred wanted to protest. He meant save Bruce, not toss him down the hole too.
But right now, even talking was a struggle.
…
In the emerald waters of the Dionesium Pool, two bodies floated.
Bruce, dressed in soft pajamas, had numerous tears in his clothes. He lay face-down, submerged in the regenerative liquid.
Beside him was the Joker in his iconic purple suit. Even in death, his face remained twisted in an exaggerated grin.
After the Court of Owls exposed Batman's identity, Arthur meticulously planned his move.
First, he had the Joker gang cause chaos across Gotham, drawing the Bat-Family away. Then, he stormed Wayne Manor alone.
At the entrance, he rang the doorbell and left a gift box.
Unaware of the trap, Alfred picked it up and opened it. The hidden toxin inside instantly incapacitated him.
Then, Joker found his way into the Batcave and engaged Bruce in battle.
Fighting Batman required ambush tactics—not a fair duel.
Even with Bruce still injured, Joker could only manage a mutual demise.
As if fate were playing a joke, they both collapsed into the Dionesium Pool.
Suddenly, Arthur's fingers twitched. Moments later, he sat up in a daze, confused about being alive.
Touching his head absentmindedly, his eyes widened.
"My hair… grew back?"
Arthur gleefully tugged at his newly regrown green locks, marveling at the sight.
Sizzle!
Before he could fully appreciate his revived hair, a terrifyingly familiar sound sent chills down his spine.
Following the noise, he saw—
In the shadows of the cavern, a flickering flame illuminated a twisted, grinning face.
"…Allen!?"
Yes. It was Allen, flashing a wide, gum-exposing smile.
"D-Don't come any closer! We can talk this out!"
Arthur scrambled backward as Allen slowly approached. His infamous uncontrollable laughter? Gone. His face? Pure terror.
"Joker, my dear student."
Allen's voice turned deep and authoritative.
"At your age, you should be studying crime and fighting justice, not worrying about growing out and dyeing your hair in flashy colors. As the Dean of Gotham University, I must correct this improper behavior and guide you back to the righteous path of villainy."
"You lunatic!"
Arthur bolted in the opposite direction.
He'd rather fight Batman a hundred times than face this psycho.
But he barely made it a few steps before Allen tackled him, pinning him down. A lighter flicked open, its flame set to max.
Where did the lighter come from?
Allen swiped it when he picked up free cigarettes at the relief center.
I may not smoke, he reasoned, but I gotta have one just in case.
"Allen, no! I'm begging you! Burn anything else—my armpit hair, my leg hair—but not my head!"
Arthur sobbed, frantically clawing at the ground, desperate to escape.
"You defiant student! Bargaining with me? Do you take my authority as air? This time, I'll burn your eyebrows too!"
The lighter's flame touched his green hair. Sizzle! The strands curled and burned, filling the air with a pungent scorched smell.
Arthur howled in despair.
"No! Please stop! Batman! Wake up and save me!"
…
Someone calling me?
Sounds like Joker's voice…
Bruce groggily regained consciousness, lifting his head.
The first thing he saw was Allen sitting on top of Joker, burning his hair with a lighter.
"…I must be dreaming. Joker would never ask me for help."
He chuckled, then dunked his head back into the Dionesium Pool.
The cold liquid sent a jolt through him.
He shot up, eyes wide.
This isn't a dream!
The regenerative properties of the pool must've revived him.
Glancing at the sobbing, begging Joker, Bruce made a decision.
He turned his head away and did nothing.
First, he knew he wasn't strong enough to fight Allen.
Second, he had no reason to help an enemy.
And third?
He was genuinely afraid Allen might get carried away… and burn his hair too.
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