Chapter 22: I, the Fear of the Joker

Chapter 22: I, the Fear of the Joker

"Jason, Tim, Stephanie—you three check each location where Bruce stayed."

"Damian and I will infiltrate Wayne Tower to investigate."

Dick had the seniority and ability to take on a leadership role.

In multiple parallel universes, he had even succeeded Bruce as Batman.

"Reporting in—I haven't gotten in the car yet."

Wearing the Batsuit, Allen naturally wanted to integrate into the team.

After a brief moment of thought, Dick suggested, "Why don't you ask the Joker? Bruce went out last night to chase him down."

"So you're saying... Batman eloped with the Joker?"

Allen suddenly had a look of realization, then clutched his chest in exaggerated heartbreak. "Bruce would rather choose the Joker over me? You've changed."

Shit. Staying even a second longer was making everyone break out in goosebumps from second-hand embarrassment.

The five young heroes quickly turned and went about their tasks.

Watching the Bat-Family members drive off in vehicles provided by Bruce, Allen stood to the side, seething with envy.

Nightwing drove off in a multi-functional armored vehicle, with Damian in the passenger seat.

Tim and Stephanie shared a Batcycle.

Even Jason had a sleek, badass off-road motorcycle.

Watching the five speed off from the Batcave, Allen stood there in the wind, utterly lost.

"So jealous... I want one too."

Apparently, Bruce hadn't prepared a vehicle for him.

Allen turned his gaze toward Alfred, who was tidying up a table. Sneakily, he sidled up to him. "Butler-Man, is there another vehicle? You wouldn't want me walking on foot, would you?"

Alfred paused his work and replied calmly, "Master Wayne owns many vehicles. I'll open the garage for you."

With a press of a button on the control panel, a platform rose from the water beside them.

On it, a variety of vehicles were secured by steel cables.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa..."

Allen ran his hands over a sleek Bat-Tank, his excitement growing. "The Knight's War Machine!"

"Yes, yes, yes... The Dark Night Chopper!"

So this was the joy of the rich—simple yet profound.

"Which one do you want to take?" Alfred asked, meticulous as ever. "I can unlock it for you electronically and install a linked sensor chip in your glove so no one can steal it."

Allen pointed at a compact, foldable electric bicycle. "I want this one."

"..."

Alfred froze for a moment, then asked in confusion, "Why?"

Why were you so hyped up if you weren't even going to pick a Batmobile or a motorcycle?!

Allen fidgeted shyly. "I don't have a driver's license."

"..."

After a long silence, Alfred finally managed to squeeze out a sentence:

"You sure are law-abiding."

---

In a dark, abandoned tunnel...

The Joker and his gang had tied up a former underground kingpin of Gotham.

"Joker, you're breaking the rules! You want to go against everyone?" the battered and bruised gang boss threatened.

Grinning maniacally, the Joker aimed a revolver at his head. "I am the rules."

Bang!

The gunshot echoed through the tunnel.

Holstering his weapon, the Joker sneered, "And my rules are chaos."

Just then, a white light appeared in the distance, gradually approaching.

Beep beep beep...

Before long, the sound of a horn echoed through the tunnel.

The Joker's henchmen, who had been on high alert, stared in disbelief at the approaching figure.

Batman... on an electric bicycle?

That's right—Allen had tracked them down.

Finding the Joker in Gotham wasn't easy.

Bruce had Commissioner Gordon's intel, but Allen had his own methods.

He had spent a staggering five dollars—his entire fortune—buying information from a homeless man about the Joker gang's whereabouts.

Even though five dollars was just pocket change for a white-collar worker, for Allen, it was all he had left. The pain of losing that money only strengthened his resolve to fight crime.

By tirelessly beating up over a hundred henchmen, he had finally forced out the Joker's precise location.

"Joker, you've betrayed this city."

Allen stepped off his electric bike. The light behind him cast a tall, menacing shadow.

A nightmare for criminals—Bat-Man had arrived.

His entrance was intimidating enough to shake the Joker's men, making him appear as the very embodiment of fear.

"Hehehe..."

The Joker's eerie laughter echoed as he assessed the situation. He knew Batman was missing, so this was just an imposter—not someone worth taking seriously.

"Hehehehehe..."

Allen's laughter was even more unsettling, sending chills down their spines.

"What are you laughing at?" the Joker asked in a low voice.

"You laughed, so I laughed too."

Who said superheroes couldn't use a villain's tricks? Allen liked laughing like this.

"Allen?"

"It's me."

Oh, a fellow lunatic. The Joker relaxed slightly and asked, "Why the hell are you dressed like that? You crazy or something?"

"You got meds?"

"..."

The Joker took a deep breath, realizing that Allen's condition was far beyond normal conversation.

Without hesitation, he raised his hand, signaling his men to open fire.

Gunshots and muzzle flashes filled the tunnel.

But when the smoke cleared, Allen was nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, every single one of the Joker's henchmen had collapsed, unconscious.

A cold sensation pressed against the Joker's neck. A whisper slithered into his ear.

"You got meds?"

The Joker shuddered violently. In his peripheral vision, he saw Allen's face inches from his own.

Batman was a rational man—someone the Joker didn't fear.

But Allen? Allen was a genuine lunatic. There was no predicting what he might do.

"What do you want? I can pay you," the Joker said, trying to bargain.

"How much?"

"Ptooey!"

Allen's expression suddenly turned stern, and he lowered his voice. "You think you can buy my sense of justice?"

"Then why the hell are you here?"

The Joker was on the verge of tears. He was genuinely afraid Allen's overwhelming sense of justice might get him killed right then and there.

At least with Batman, there was a no-kill rule.

"Good question."

Allen scoffed. "Where are you hiding Bruce? Not answering calls, not replying to texts—running away won't solve your relationship problems."

"I don't know!"

The Joker adamantly denied it. "I haven't seen him in ages!"

"Not talking, huh?"

Click.

At some point, Allen had pulled out a lighter and flicked it open. He licked his lips, leaning in threateningly.

"I love that rebellious spirit of yours. Keep it up. Hehehe..."

"What the hell are you doing?! NO—DON'T!"

As the flame drew closer, the Joker began to panic, screaming in desperation.

But Allen remained unmoved, continuing his slow approach.

The acrid smell of burning hair filled the air.

The Joker howled, "Fine! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!"

If he didn't, his signature green hair would be gone.

Allen paused the "Light Up the Joker" torture technique and patiently waited for an answer.

"A while back, someone came to me. They offered a million dollars to lure Batman to the space between the twelfth and thirteenth floors of the Klin Building."

Click.

The moment the Joker stopped talking, Allen flicked the lighter open again.

"Wait, wait, wait—"

The Joker hurriedly continued, "That person represented Gotham's elite—the ones who handle all the dirty work for the rich."

Before long, Allen rode his electric bike out of the tunnel, satisfied.

Meanwhile, back in the tunnel, the Joker sat there, utterly devastated, tears streaming down his face.

His once-iconic green hair... was now a charred mess.

"I told him everything... So why did he still burn my hair? WHY?!"

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