Chapter 618: I, Joker (16)
Chapter 618: I, Joker (16)
The night pressed on…
At this moment, beneath the high platform of Batmancastle, a massive crowd had gathered once again.
In the past, their sole purpose for coming here had been to worship. But tonight, they sought bloodshed.
“Hand over Batman!” “Kill that fraud!” “Make him come out!” A cacophony of shouts erupted from the crowd.
Their anger, their passion, their impulsiveness, their madness—
All of this had begun with the Joker’s Smile Symbol that had appeared in the sky. That grin seemed to hold a strange power, implanting seeds of rebellion into every heart. And Feng Bu Jue’s masterful speech had become the final catalyst.
“Sir, the situation is slipping out of control,” a Robin officer hurriedly reported to Gordon atop the high platform. “There are too many people surrounding the castle—our forces aren’t enough…” He paused, his expression turning uneasy. “They haven’t launched a direct assault yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Once they start advancing…”
“You don’t need to tell me that,” The_Bruce interrupted coldly, his voice suddenly cutting through the air.
The Robin officer startled, turning his head to find The_Bruce standing just two meters away. “I… I’m sorry, Mr. Bruce. I didn’t notice you…”
“I know,” The_Bruce replied. He stepped forward, his tone steady. “I was testing the optical camouflage function of this armor-plated suit. Seems it works well enough.”
“You return to your post,” Gordon finally spoke, dismissing the officer. As the Robin left, Gordon turned to Bruce. “It seems we underestimated Joker’s ability to incite.”
“Not exactly,” The_Bruce mused. “The truth is, these people’s tastes have changed. After years of staged performances, they’ve forgotten my true capabilities. They’re tired of the blood of so-called supercriminals… They want my blood.”
“But we still hold overwhelming firepower,” Gordon countered. “Those rabble don’t have airships, armor-plated vehicles, or heavy weapons…”
“Firepower?” The_Bruce scoffed. “A thousand-odd troops? Among them, who knows how many have already turned against me. Though the city’s population has declined and stagnated due to years of war, there are still nearly a million people. That officer was right—we’re outnumbered. Even if each of our men could take ten, or a hundred, it wouldn’t matter.”
Gordon’s mind flickered with unease, though his face remained calm.
“Faith,” The_Bruce continued, “is the strongest fortress. If their faith collapses, they’ll tear this ‘god’ apart and crown a new one—just as I did before. In this game, Joker has the upper hand. He’s brilliant… not just in combat, but in strategy and courage. Yet…” He shifted tone. “No matter how strong an advantage is, until it becomes a decisive victory, there’s always room for a reversal.”
At this point, the calculating King of Gotham had already devised a counterplan.
“Gordon,” The_Bruce said, fixing him with a gaze, “I have a plan… but I’ll need your help.”
Gordon’s expression shifted slightly. After a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “Of course, my lord.”
“You’ll take my place.”
“What?!” Gordon’s first thought was that this was a trap. “No… how could I dare…”
“Not the real me,” The_Bruce clarified. “I want you to fake a rebellion, swear to overthrow me, and I’ll play along in this immersive act.” He explained, “After all, those mobs don’t know my true face. We’ll find a scapegoat, dress him in a Batman mask, and toss him out.”
As he listened, Gordon’s mind raced. In truth, he had considered betrayal. If possible, he wouldn’t just act—he wanted to throw the real The_Bruce down and become Gotham’s new god himself.
But… he lacked the audacity. Because he wasn’t the real Gordon. The original Commissioner Gordon had died half a century ago. This Gordon, The_Bruce’s top enforcer, was actually a Robin.
One of the earliest Robins to follow Bruce, he’d undergone “reconstructive surgery” by Dr. Kliber at age thirty, transforming into the legendary Commissioner Gordon—Batman’s high priest and Gotham’s nominal supreme ruler.
“Understood,” Gordon said at last. He turned to two soldiers ten meters away. “You two—prepare a corpse matching Batman’s physique and dress it in the suit.”
The soldiers exchanged glances, hesitating before replying, “Yes, sir!”
After they left, Gordon strode to the platform’s edge, activated his earpiece, and began his final speech: “My children! You’ve been deceived!” he roared. “I’ve been deceived too! The_Bruce is a hypocritical god, and this is a hypocritical game!” His voice grew fiercer. “The_Bruce has gone mad, but fear not—I’ve taken control!” He spread his arms. “Batman’s subjects, follow me! Support me! I’ve seized Batmancastle! I’ve defeated The_Bruce!” He raised his arm triumphantly. “Now… let me deliver this false god’s blood to you… Ah!”
His words were abruptly cut short as The_Bruce seized him from behind, lifting him high into the air.
In that instant, Gordon understood—there was no plan. Only a trap he’d failed to see.
“Gordon is the true hypocrite,” The_Bruce declared, his voice cold. “A failed servant. A fraud. Look at him—mad with ambition, cheating me in rituals for years. And now, raving nonsense about replacing me.”
“No! No! He made me…!” Gordon tried to plead, but Bruce’s arm tightened, crushing a section of his spine. Gordon screamed in agony.
“This complete madman speaks only lies and screams,” The_Bruce continued. “I—your Batman god—deliver him to you… for judgment.”
Before the words faded, he hurled Gotham’s longtime second-in-command off the high platform.
(End of Chapter)
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