American comic Gotham, the sheriff of Arkham

After watching Naegi and the others leave, Dr. Hurt also went off work. He was the only doctor on duty in Arkham Asylum.

Otis also paid him enough attention and helped him clean up a room in the already demolished office on the third floor.

But Otis didn't like the plastic smile on Dr. Hurt's face, because it looked like he was talking to a dummy, which felt weird.

As the high-powered lights outside Arkham Asylum were turned off, darkness and silence enveloped the area once again.

The patrolling security guards have become accustomed to the occasional screams in the corridor. They are caused by the scarecrow in room J6 on the second floor.

Maybe he had a nightmare again. The guy hadn't slept well for many days and could only fall asleep for a while with the help of some sleeping pills.

Dr. Hutt sat beside the bed, looking silently and emotionlessly at the rat patrolling at the pipe opening next to the ceiling with a miniature camera on its back.

The entire asylum is under Otis's surveillance, but for Dr. Hurt, it's a little... too easy.

In other words, to deceive these brainless mice, it was so easy for him that he didn't even have to lift a finger.

The mouse seemed to be frozen in time, standing still in the pipe, not crawling over, and the camera was in darkness.

Dr. Hurt's figure flashed and he was instantly teleported to the underground laboratory, where he was not discovered by Otis and others.

Those people rely too much on mice, not knowing that mice also have things they are afraid of and places they cannot approach.

Doctor Hutt raised his hand and touched his chest. Inside his body, next to his heart, there was a golden egg-shaped machine. It was so delicate and exquisite that it didn't look like a human creation. There was a wisp of black air wrapped around it.

He could feel that the call of his great master Darkseid was approaching, spanning two hundred years...

No... He has another mission, to make Gotham a sacrificial gift, to make...

Dr. Hutt suddenly stopped, as if a machine had crashed. It took him a while to recover. Black mist emerged from his hands and turned into hideous bone claws.

"I'm Barbatos..." Dr. Hurt looked at the bone claws emerging from his hands and repeated it as if to confirm.

After saying that, Dr. Hurt teleported into a laboratory that looked like a slaughterhouse, and the Joker was sitting cross-legged on the desk with a bunch of fangs, looking at the mirror and stuffing them into his mouth.

"I thought you would come soon?"

The clown opened his mouth and smiled, and all the teeth that had just been put in his mouth fell out with a loud noise.

"You didn't complete your mission!" Dr. Hutt suddenly flashed in front of the Joker and grabbed the Joker's neck.

With a thud, the two of them were teleported to the cold storage outside. The clown's face was hit against the ice-wrapped freezer. The biting cold directly stuck the clown's face to it.

"Damn it, I didn't come here for you to deal with me. Do you want to do something big together?"

The clown pressed his face against the ice, but his eyes widened as he tried to see what was inside the ice, his tears were about to freeze.

Dr. Hurt didn't say anything, just stared at the clown's head and hesitated a little, "Have you met him?"

"Him? You mean Uncle Jack? He's dead..."

The clown shook his arms, raised his hands and slapped them on the ice, then pulled his face hard. It hurt so much that he simply gave up.

"What do you want to do?" Dr. Hutt asked.

"I stole a pesticide plane, um... it's still a little short of technical support, I hope to have something better."

The Joker grinned and said, "Like, you gave him something he used before, I need one, or you should give me something better."

"Tell me...what is it!"

Dr. Hutt suddenly sensed something and turned to look behind him, but his gaze had already crossed the Arkham area.

"……Can."

Dr. Hutt grabbed the Joker and teleported again, but this time they did not appear in any corner of Arkham Asylum.

Instead, it was in an abandoned underground mine. The surroundings were pitch black, with only a pool of dark green spring water emitting a faint light on the ground, just like a mixture of chemicals.

With a plop, the clown was thrown in.

The dark green spring water began to boil, just like a mint candy thrown into carbonated soda, and it reacted instantly.

The Joker raised his head from the water, shook his bald head a few times, and looked at the transparent liquid in his palm. Before he could laugh, he was thrown onto the streets of Gotham.

"Remember your mission. Let this city fall into despair, collapse completely, and destroy everything!"

Dr. Hurt warned and told them to leave. The Joker sat on the ground, looked around, and then lay back on the ground.

Looking up at the sky with eyes wide open, the clown also had his own troubles, as if he had seen something weird again.

"Maybe I should find a plastic surgeon to put my teeth back on." The clown said, touching his empty gums.

"but……"

The clown turned his head to look at the water not far away, stood up and walked over. Under the light of the street lamp, he could see his appearance on the water, but it was completely different from himself.

It was a clown with flames burning on his body, as if he was telling himself something. The clown shook his head and said, "I'm busy..."

------

At the Heimen Island Pier, a transport ship coming from New York docked here. The crew on it shone flashlights down a few times, as if they were giving some signal.

A moment later, a trailer drove over, and people on and below started to get busy. A red container was lifted up.

"What's the cargo this time?" The captain came out of the cabin wearing a big coat, holding a cigarette, and looked at the containers being transported up.

"A batch of stuff was shipped to Star City. You know the market price, so don't ask questions that you shouldn't ask."

A warning sounded from the pager next to him.

The captain held a cigarette in his mouth and snorted with disdain, pretending to be mysterious. Doesn't it still depend on his ship to transport it? What a piece of shit.

Just as the containers were placed on the ship and the sailors were reinforcing them, a burst of gunfire rang out at the dock ahead.

The captain was so frightened that he immediately fell to the ground. In his line of work, he was not afraid of anything else but being robbed by other gangs. However, there was a burst of gunfire over there, but it was not directed at this side.

"Don't be afraid, they are those crazy people from the Whispering Gang... It seems that none of the Flamingos are good people." A voice came from the intercom placed on the side of the ship.

The captain got up from the ground in a somewhat embarrassed manner and urged the sailors to quickly put the cargo back in place and secure it.

"What is the Whispering Gang?" The captain urged, picking up the telescope hanging around his neck and looking at the dock over there, asking curiously, because in the field of view of his telescope.

All I saw was some guys in various clothes holding machetes, chopping a guy holding a submachine gun into pieces with just a few strokes. The bloody scene was visible even from a distance.

It still made the captain shudder.

Being killed by guns and bullets and being chopped into pieces by knives are completely different things.

"The Whispering Gang is a bunch of bloodthirsty lunatics. They always like to make the scene messy and bloody to show their terrifying deterrent power. Haha... How vulgar."

The voice on the pager clearly looked down on these crazy bandits who chopped people into pieces, and even had a bit of contempt for these bastards who could only rob things at subway stations and docks.

But it is true that the underworld forces in Gotham are topped by the Italian Mafia led by Falcone, while other gangs are severely marginalized and can only have some marginal territories.

Just as the captain was about to ask further questions, a container at the back suddenly fell off and crashed down with a loud bang.

"Damn, is there a typhoon?"

The captain just felt that he was really unlucky tonight. How could a container that was firmly fixed fall down? It must be that the sailors were lazy and did not secure it properly. However... there was no wind on the sea.

The sailors also looked at the logo on the container, which was a container shipped from the Port of New York.

Just as they shone the flashlights towards the container, the door locks hanging on the container all fell to the ground with a clang.

When I shone the flashlight over there, I saw that all the door locks were cut in the middle. With a clang, the container was pushed open.

The red cloak flew out like red waves, covering the sky above the transport ship, and several chains also fluttered in the cloak.

This scene made the captain's eyes widen. He remembered a strange night story in New York City, but... that shouldn't be the case!