[Zhongyingmei] The clown is actually me

A ghostly hand came from behind him, pressing him heavily on the table, his forehead must have been bruised.How cruel, Jack thought to himself, sniffing his nose, and warm blood dripped from his nasal cavity, a bright red trail.

"Where's the dirty bomb?" The tone was very calm, and Batman stood behind Jack, a tall and dark figure enveloped him.

Jack was not surprised at all. He straightened his upper body and licked the blood from the corner of his mouth.He didn't look back, let alone smile: "What date is June today?"

"I asked you where the dirty bomb is."

"You first answer me what date is June today."

The two were silent for a while, and it was Batman who broke the silence first: "June 6th."

number 11.three days.

Jack was silent for a while, still straightening his spine, as if Batman was not standing behind him, but sitting in front of him: "I want to watch the surveillance video of my cell."

The voice behind him was still cold and calm: "There's no such thing as a dirty bomb, is there?"

"The little bird on the other end of your headset told you? Because he didn't find any clues?"

"There is no information on the theft of nuclear materials, and there are no clues. If you really have that thing in your hand, you will let the whole world know about it, and then go crazy with the controller, instead of just telling me lightly today."

"Ha, ha." Jack laughed dryly twice. He wore a special iron mask, the lower half of his face was fixed, and his chin rubbed against the cold and rough metal, causing waves of pain.Maybe he looks like Hannibal in The Silence of the Lambs now: "No kidding, stern-faced rodent flyer, I want to see three days of surveillance footage of my cell. I know you can get Well, I need your help."

Batman came out from behind him, and sat silently on the chair opposite him, like an insurmountable black mountain: "The reason."

Jack took a deep breath and closed his eyes.He still doesn't know if he can trust Batman, but there's no doubting that he needs his help.

The cold mask was tightly pressed against his face, diverting his inner anxiety and mania. After a few breaths of silence, he felt his heart gradually calm down. Then he opened his eyes and said to the man in front of him: "The bat Hero, I'm not a clown."

"My real name is Jack Napier. I graduated from Manhattan and worked in a chemical plant. I was married to my wife for a few years. She was pregnant not long ago-I can't give you proof. The place names I remember are the same as Gotham. No, I don't know if they exist, but my memory tells me so."

"On June 6th, I woke up and found that I turned into a clown, and then you appeared, knocked me out, and I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I was in Arkham Asylum, and the time had passed for three full days , During the time when I was supposed to be unconscious, I once voluntarily ate food, not intravenous drip, not liquid food, but food that I chewed and swallowed by myself. Moreover, I found a note in the medicine bottle in the cell. So I have a bad guess, and I need your help to verify it, bat. I need to figure out what my body was doing during the three days I was unconscious." Jack paused, "If I'm not wrong , he might still be alive, just in my head."

"You mean, the clown has split personalities, and you are one of them?" Through the mask, Batman showed no emotion, only his exposed lips were tightly pressed into a straight line.

"I don't know what I am, an alien soul, an independent memory, or a personality that a lunatic came up with?" Jack said calmly, "I want to find out what happened, at least let me know why I will be here."

"No ordinary person has been as calm as you have been through this."

"Who knows if I, who shares the same brain with that lunatic, can be regarded as a normal person? But at least I am more normal than the clown, I think so."

The two were silent for a while, until Batman tapped his forearm with his finger, and a small, blue, floating light curtain lit up in the dim reception room, and Alfred or the little bird cub finally saw what Jack wanted to see. Things were found and transmitted through the bat computer.

The surveillance video is played at double speed, and the time is displayed in the upper right corner.Jack was expressionless. He and Batman watched the three-day video together. Three days ago—the clown in a straitjacket was thrown into room 801. He was tied up like a big rice dumpling, and his eyes were closed. sleeping.Then there was a sleep image for a period of time. In the middle of the night, he opened his eyes and faced the situation in front of him, showing surprise on his face, followed by a thoughtful, strange smile on that pale face, which made Jack Creepy.

He lay back again, rolled a few times on the bed, happy like a child.Tossing and turning, half-asleep and half-awake until daytime, there is no abnormal place, the clown walks around in his cell, sometimes muttering, sometimes playing with the small toys he collected, sometimes messing with the crayons on the paper with his mouth Painting, full of interest, looks more like a child.

But soon Jack and Batman discovered the first wrong place. On the plate of the Chinese food delivered from outside the prison door, there was a white medicine bottle.After the clown finished his meal, he picked up the medicine bottle and poured out a few pills, which he washed down with water.

"Are the psychotropic drugs dispensed by Arkham delivered with lunch?" Jack asked.

"That's the rule." Batman didn't look up.

"The clown hasn't eaten, has he?"

"You bit off half of the face of the last doctor who told you to take medicine." Since then, no one dared to force you to take medicine.

Jack ground his teeth subconsciously, he now knew why he had to put on the iron mask: "I'm not him."

"..." Can't be sure yet.

Those few pills didn't make the clown in the surveillance video have any big reaction, which didn't seem to match the clown's plan, so he curled up in the corner of the hospital bed all afternoon, with a face full of disappointment, humming funny The minor key is like a cat getting wet in the rain.

God, he's actually kind of weirdly cute.

The second day was not much different from the first day. The clown's straitjacket was untied. He got a pen and a few pieces of paper from the guard, and half-kneeled on the bed to draw graffiti all day.

The transformation took place on the third day, which is today.

The clown was the same as the previous two days, eating and taking medicine. About an hour later, he began to experience obvious discomfort. He was lying on the bed with pale lips, trembling hands and feet, and sweated layer after layer, like a dead dragonfly whose head had been pulled out.After a while, he let out a hoarse cough, which quickly turned into a scream, which almost passed through the screen and pierced the eardrums of the two people present.The sound didn't sound like a human being at all. Instead, it sounded like the wailing of some large dying animal. In the confusion, no one could tell whether the clown was crying or laughing, or maybe both, because the intermittent sobbing , It sounds like laughter or crying.

Arkham's staff quickly noticed his abnormality. Several heavily armed soldiers came over. Instead of opening the door, they opened a small door at the top of the iron gate. A tube of sedative was shot at him like a bullet, the syringe was precisely stuck in the clown's neck, and the residual recoil pushed the sedative into it.

Seeing him weakening, the group of soldiers with live ammunition breathed a sigh of relief visibly.It was astonishing that a troop of heavily armed soldiers were afraid of him, a thin psychopath, and made no secret of their fear, like a pride of lions afraid of a dying antelope.

clown.They're afraid of clowns, Jack thought.

The body of the clown is different from ordinary people, and he has a strong tolerance to sedatives. The dose of this injection is enough to bring down an elephant. If the person lying here is an ordinary person, he probably won’t be able to see the sun the next day after sleeping. .However, this injection only made the clown's hands and feet go weak, his mind was dazed, and he broke out in cold sweat layer by layer.His body has been alienated by the bucket of waste liquid, and he is immune to many chemicals, including sedatives.

No one dared to enter the room anymore, even if the clown was in an extremely bad condition, they could only lock him in the room and take away all the sharp objects to prevent him from getting emotional and hurting himself.

The painful episode didn't last long, and the clown stopped screaming and making no sound, and seemed to have passed out.

After about one to two hours of silence, the pale man lying on the bed like a corpse opened his eyes again. This time his eyes were clear and transparent gold, as if golden roses were burning blazingly at the bottom of a dark well.

Batman turned off the projector, and he turned to look at Jack. There was no doubt in the sapphire blue pupils, no trust, nothing but darkness, and an empty calm.Jack sees his own reflection in his eyes, which are red-gold unlike the Joker's green eyes, but he understands that the Dark Knight is not obsessed with these details, and he still sees himself as the Joker, at best A degraded version of the Joker tamed by drugs.He stretched out his hand to Jack and spread his fingers: "Pharmaceutical bottle."

Jack was silent for a while, then pulled out his arms from his chest, and at the same time handed him the medicine bottle hidden under the straitjacket.With the current Lv. 1 lockpicking skill, the straitjacket is useless to him.Presumably Batman has also guessed this point, which is not difficult to guess for the world's number one detective.

"Although it sounds ridiculous, I promise it's all true. The Joker has too many enemies, and I can't find anyone I can trust-please help me, Batman." Jack said solemnly.

"If what you say is true, I will." Batman took the bottle.

"Then say hello to your little birdie for me, and." Jack looked directly at him. "Keep it a secret, Bruce."