Chapter 84: Physically Recruiting Joker Robin

Chapter 84: Physically Recruiting Joker Robin

"Allen, long time no see."

The pink symbiote withdrew from its face, revealing Carter's features.

"I don't approve of your marriage."

Immediately, Allen furrowed his brows and said seriously, "Symbiotes reproduce asexually. You're both symbiote hosts—this is an incestuous relationship. It's forbidden, absolutely forbidden!"

Symbiote parasitism wasn't the same as a blood relationship, making Steve and Carter roll their eyes in exasperation.

Besides, they already had grandchildren. What was he going to do about it now?

"Incest, huh? I haven't even tried that yet. That's so unfair."

Allen's furious expression gradually turned into one of jealousy.

Damn it—so that was what was bothering him?

What a troll.

"We're hanging up. We've got things to do."

The screen cut off.

The existence of the Arkham Fortress made perfect sense.

Steve had been operating in the Quantum Realm long before this, meaning he had access to high-tech resources. If he had also been recruiting talent from across the multiverse, building a heavily fortified, technologically advanced base was only natural.

At this moment, Allen turned to look at Edward and Cobblepot, his expression so twisted with glee that it was outright sinister.

"Heh… heh… heh…"

The eerie laughter made both of them feel an overwhelming sense of dread.

He was coming for them.

Placing a hand on each of their shoulders, Allen whispered menacingly, "You two have overheard something you shouldn't have. Now, what should I do with you? Heh… heh… heh…"

"I didn't hear anything. I'm actually deaf." Edward shook his head frantically.

"I'm just a penguin. How could I possibly understand human speech?" Cobblepot crossed his eyes and put on a vacant expression, trying to act like a mindless bird.

"This really puts me in a tough spot," Allen sighed before calling out, "Unita, do we have any devices that can erase someone without leaving a trace?"

"Commander, we have dissolving liquid in the storage area. It can corrode even steel," Unita replied with a pleasant smile.

What a ruthless AI.

Allen nodded in satisfaction. "Very good. I can't allow anyone to threaten Old Man Steve's son, so please, prepare to die."

Steve waging war across the multiverse was an explosive revelation. It posed a serious threat to the current Captain America.

If enemies from other universes found out that Steve was a symbiote projection, the next day, Earth's skies might be filled with alien warships, descending to exterminate this world's Captain America and prevent another projection from emerging.

"Allen!"

Edward clung to Allen's leg, shamelessly pleading, "Ever since I lost to you the first time, I've been deeply captivated by your charisma. Truthfully, I've always wanted to work under you, but I was too self-conscious, afraid you'd reject me. Now that I'm about to die, I have no choice but to confess my true feelings!"

At the same time, Edward kept throwing desperate glances at Cobblepot.

Catching on instantly, Cobblepot grabbed Allen's other leg and added, "Back at the warehouse, your dazzling presence and unparalleled wisdom already made me want to swear allegiance. Please, accept my admiration!"

"I'm not as great as you say," Allen blushed, looking bashful before confidently adding, "Intelligence is one thing, but as for my looks—I do have some self-awareness."

"You know why I never pee during the day? Either I hold it in until nightfall, or I pee in my pants." Allen grinned, showing his teeth.

"Why?" Edward played along.

"I'm afraid that if I see my own reflection in the puddle, I'll faint from my own handsomeness."

"…"

The fact that he could say this with a straight face—did he have no shame?

Of course, they couldn't say that out loud. Instead, Cobblepot flattered, "Boss, you're truly a genius. You solved such a difficult problem perfectly! If it were me, I'd just put a garbage bag over my head."

"You're still lacking in intelligence. You can't always have a garbage bag on hand when you're out and about. The correct approach is to wear underwear on your head."

Allen gave a mysterious smile, then smugly declared, "But I don't wear underwear."

"…"

Which raised a critical question—given Allen's habit of hiding things between his butt cheeks, how did he maintain hygiene?

The answer: he wore patient gown pants over his regular ones. That way, no one would notice if he was hiding anything.

"Since you admire me so much, I'll reluctantly accept you as my subordinates."

Allen pulled a black marker from under his armpit.

"Boss, what are you doing?" Edward asked nervously.

"Just giving you a little makeover. Don't worry."

Moments later, Allen had drawn black eye masks around their eyes.

Satisfied, he announced, "From now on, you're Riddler Robin and Penguin Robin—my left and right hands as the Comedic Bat."

Edward and Cobblepot exchanged pitiful glances before bursting into laughter at each other's ridiculous appearances.

If their fellow criminals saw them like this, they'd be mocked for life.

This was beyond humiliating.

"Penguin Robin, I have high expectations for you. You'll be running in the presidential election. Riddler Robin, you'll be his running mate. When the time comes, we'll take over America and make the world kneel before us!"

Allen spoke passionately, clenching his left hand into a fist like a true supervillain envisioning his grand, evil plan.

Boss, we don't want this. Please, stop.

They were barely scraping by in Gotham—who had time to take over America?

They could hardly deal with one Batman. Out there, the world was crawling with superheroes! If they made too much noise, some anti-hero would probably straight-up kill them.

"Two Robins aren't enough. The Batman Who Laughs had three. I need one more."

Allen's mind raced. "Where's Arthur?"

"He's in Blackgate Prison," Cobblepot answered.

Last time, when Bruce funded Blackgate's security upgrades, Joker Arthur had been temporarily held at Arkham Asylum. Now, he had been transferred back to his high-security cell.

—

The moon hung high in the sky.

For once, Gotham had a clear night where the moon was visible.

Normally, the city had an English gothic aesthetic—either cloudy or rainy—creating a constantly oppressive atmosphere. No wonder crime thrived here.

The city was sick, and it had driven its people insane.

"Heh… heh… heh… sob… sob…"

Inside Blackgate, Joker Arthur stared out from behind iron bars, alternating between laughter and sobs. He scratched furiously at the scabs on his burnt scalp until his skin was raw and bloody, yet he refused to stop.

"I'm going to kill you. I'll kill you…"

Arthur roared with rage, his mind consumed by a singular thought—murdering Allen.

His hatred for Allen far surpassed his hatred for Bruce.

Once, he had been Gotham's underground king, always appearing in immaculate suits, radiating class.

Now, his head was a burnt, scabbed mess, with only a few sparse strands of green hair left—a cruel mockery of his former self.

"You want to kill me?"

Allen dangled upside down outside the iron bars, peering at Arthur's broken psyche.

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

Arthur lunged, trying to grab Allen, but the bars were three meters high—far beyond his reach.

Allen sliced through the bars and agilely slipped inside the cell.

"The deeper your hatred for someone, the deeper your love truly is."

With a single punch, Allen knocked Joker down, delivering both physical and psychological enlightenment.

"This isn't hatred—it's twisted love."

"In Gotham, everyone is a clown."

"They're clowns in love, clowns in life, clowns in their jobs."

"And now, the Court of Owls and the vampires want to exterminate all the clowns."

"Can you stand by and let that happen?"

"No—you are their guiding light. You are the Clown King."

"And you… are my Joker Robin."

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