American comic Gotham, the sheriff of Arkham

Arkham Asylum's underground facility, to be precise, is also a large utility room with washing machines for washing bedding and clothes, as well as an incinerator for burning garbage.

Hugo Strange walked in front, leading Jeremiah behind him to the morgue. The mental hospital also had a place to store corpses. Although it was not big, there were many freezers.

"This place is really... a bit shabby."

Jeremiah looked at the spider webs in the corners of the ceiling and the dust in some places. There were dark red rust on the iron storage boxes, which looked like blood rust at first glance.

Hearing this, Strange laughed and said, "Arkham Asylum has been established for a long time after all. It is very expensive to maintain it, and it is rarely used."

Strange unlocked the door with the key and pushed it open. It looked more like a large ice storage room, even the stainless steel freezers containing the bodies were not opened.

The morgue was still filled with cold air, and the freezer on the bottom layer had been frozen into lumps of ice.

"Well, this is the famous clown. I don't know where you got the information from, but you know he is here, so it's a secret."

Strange walked to a freezer and pulled it open with force. Inside was a large drawer with a silver-white body bag lying quietly inside.

Jeremiah watched as the freezer was opened, and hurried over, looking at the body bag in the freezer with curiosity.

Strange smiled, took a step back, and reached out to unzip the body bag.

The dark green hair fell on the clown's face in a messy way like dried seaweed. His hideous smile was chilling, and one could even seem to hear his laughter.

"Relax, he's just a corpse..." Strange said soothingly, while reaching into the pocket of his white coat and grabbing a ballpoint pen.

With lightning speed, Strange used his body to knock Yemili to the side.

Under Strange's white coat, his strong body is no less than those of bodybuilders.

The impact caught Yemili defenselessly against the freezer, with his face pressed against it. The biting cold made Yemili beg for mercy loudly.

The ballpoint pen in Strange's hand was pressed against his neck, and there was no longer that friendly look on his face, only unruly ferocity.

At this moment, he didn't look like a scholar, but more like a mercenary who was willing to take risks and kill people without mercy.

"Tell me, my dear Mr. Arkham, who told you that the Joker was here?"

Strange asked in Jeremiah's ear, his voice gentle and cheerful. As a psychology expert, he knew very well how to find a suitable angle to inquire about the truth.

Moreover, the clown's body is here, and there are definitely no more than seven people who know about this.

That seedling immediately sent the Joker's body to the Gotham Police Department. After identification, it was burned that night.

He had spent a lot of effort to get that woman Talia to send someone to replace the clown's body and bring it here...

Thinking of this, Strange stabbed Jeremiah's neck with the ballpoint pen in his hand, piercing the skin.

The pain also made Jeremiah quickly explain, "I heard it from others, it's true!"

"Although your heartbeat quickened, your reaction slowed down. You were thinking about what to say that would benefit you. You were lying! No, you were hiding the truth."

Strange patiently said, "Arkham... this surname no longer exists in Gotham. Perhaps even the people in Arkham District don't know who this place was named after."

"So, Jeremiah Arkham, don't hide in front of me. I can hear your lies. You won't have a second chance."

Strange pulled out the ballpoint pen and this time pointed it at Jeremiah's ear. There was a drop of blood on the tip of the pen, which instantly solidified in the cold storage.

"I say!" Jeremiah also felt the threat of death. He knew very well that this bald doctor would really kill him.

"Someone asked me to get the Joker's body and keep it as intact as possible. After that, the legacy of Arkham Asylum will become mine... I owe a lot of gambling debts, and I need this legacy!"

Jeremiah didn't hide anything and told it all directly, but Strange still heard a little bit.

The clown's body is here, no one else would know about it, right? Who is it? What do they want the clown's body for?

Strange rolled his eyes and looked at the Joker lying in the freezer, then raised his hand and knocked Jeremiah to the ground with his elbow.

For some things, it is best to let him speak for himself.

------

"La la la, la la la." Miaomu hummed a happy little tune and drove straight to the home of the Riddler Nygma.

Nygma lives in a three-story building opposite the Arkham Police Station, which was rented by Miaomu.

There used to be a car wash on the first floor below, but the owner quit and Jerry had someone clean it up and turned it into a gym with some simple fitness equipment.

Some Arkham police officers are also accustomed to coming here to lift dumbbells, and are also responsible for security tasks.

"Hello, Sheriff!"

A detective who was doing one-arm dumbbell exercises saw Naegi coming and quickly stood up to greet him.

"No need, just exercise well." Naegi waved his hand and walked upstairs. Now he was the boss of Arkham District.

Whoever gives you milk is your mother. The benefits of being a police officer are very good, and Miaomu is generous and reliable in doing things.

The original 30:70 dividend split with Director Wei Fei was now split 50:50 by Miao Mu, with 50% basic dividend, 50% bonus, and a monthly subsidy for injured or dead police officers.

He didn't take any money himself. The 50% reward was the police resolution rate in Arkham. The more you work, the more you get. Being a policeman at least means doing some real work.

Walking up to the second floor, Miaomu looked at the dial lock on the security door, which was just like the old-fashioned safety lock on the bank.

After aligning the password, Miaomu pushed the door open and walked in. As soon as he entered the door, there were two bookshelves blocking the way. There was also a heavy canvas hanging from the ceiling. If someone dared to force his way in...

These dumbbells weighing several kilograms feel very comfortable when they are thrown down.

"Edward." Naegi called out as he walked in.

Sitting in front of the workbench, Nygma looked intently at the alchemical code on the table. On the table was a stack of papers full of words and a pile of books, which were also scattered all over the floor.

Nygma stretched out his hand and turned the monocular magnifying glass on the frame, picked up the quill pen, and was writing a character on the paper. Without turning his head, he shouted to the back:

"There are drinks in the fridge, help yourself! Don't bother me."

"Okay." Miao Mu didn't hesitate and walked to the green two-door refrigerator, opened the refrigerator door, and took out a bottle of Coke.

Picking up a book on the ground, it was "Analysis of Medieval Religion". Miaomu sat on the sofa with the book in his hand and flipped through it casually.

After deciphering the characters for ten minutes, Nygma, who was writing them, crumpled the paper into a ball, threw it into the full trash can, and sighed with his head raised.

"Is it difficult?" Naegi asked, putting down the book.

"It's not difficult, but it takes a lot of effort..." Nygma raised his hand to take off his glasses and pinched his eye sockets tiredly.

"By the way, why did you come to see me?"

Nygma stood up and asked. He now looked like a bachelor, he hadn't been out of the house in the past few days and his hair was a mess.

The deciphering of the Voynich script was obviously not so smooth. After all, it was a medieval coded text, and a large amount of information was needed to infer the correct meaning.

"I didn't expect that Falcone would actually give me 10 million US dollars!" Naegi took out the check from his arms with a happy face and handed it to Nygma.