59: Me too

Everyone continued to cast surprised glances at me, including the Joker's henchmen.

Needless to say, Harley Quinn couldn't resist giving me a spark of curiosity.

"Well, damn it, how ashamed I am now," the Joker said, sighing heavily. "I wanted to show everyone that all people are the same... And then a hero appeared and ruined everything for me. So, what should I do with you?" he asked, scanning me up and down. "Perhaps I should kill you since you've ruined my mood. Yes, that's what we'll do!"

The Joker removed the gun from Silver's temple and aimed it directly at me. That was definitely not part of my plans! Think, think, think! I needed a way out of this situation. I didn't want to die and be remembered as a stupid hero.

"Mister J, have you heard the joke about 'no, me too'?" I asked quickly, keeping my tone calm as if I wasn't staring death in the face.

"Hm, no!"

"Me too."

The room froze as silence enveloped us. We stared at each other.

"You didn't get it?" I asked, feigning confusion.

"No!"

"Me too."

"Pff-ha-ha-Haa-h! I like you, man," the Gotham psychopath laughed, lowering his gun. He completely forgot about Silver and focused on me instead, walking closer. Thank God it worked!

Judging by the Joker's personality and habits, it was clear he liked cheerful people. Serious conversations with him were pointless; he was a psycho, albeit a genius. Above all, he despised fear and weakness. The Joker preferred people who could meet his gaze without flinching or begging for their lives.

That's why he enjoyed his games with the Bat-family—they were among the few who didn't fear him. And as for me? I wouldn't say I was fearless; I just had no fear at that moment. Thanks to a passive skill called "Player's Mind," my sanity stayed intact regardless of what happened. It allowed me to think clearly and rationally, which was exactly what I needed to survive this encounter.

"So, what's your name, kid?" the Clown Prince of Crime asked, circling me like a predator.

"I'm Alex Reath... But you can just call me Alex," I said, giving him a slight bow.

"Alex Reath? That name sounds familiar," the Joker said, tapping his chin.

"Mistah J, that's the author who wrote It!" Harley Quinn exclaimed with excitement.

"Really?! You're the author of that masterpiece? Ha-ha-ha! Sorry I almost shot you—my bad! How embarrassing, acting like a fool in front of my idol." His shoulders slumped dramatically as if he were genuinely upset.

Before I could process what was happening, Harley appeared beside me, her bright eyes wide with admiration and her dazzling smile making her excitement clear.

"Could you sign an autograph for me?" she asked, handing me a black pen.

"Of course, how could I refuse such a beautiful fan?" I replied, throwing in a small compliment. She pretended to blush, giggling as she searched for the perfect spot for my autograph.

After some deliberation, she pulled her shirt down to expose her pale shoulder. "Here! Please, right here!"

I signed her shoulder, handed back the pen, and watched as she admired the signature with delight.

"A-hee-hee-hee! I'll get this turned into a tattoo later, exactly as you wrote it!" Harley declared with a wide grin.

I never thought these two would be such big fans of my work. But honestly? It worked in my favor, increasing my chances of survival.

"Where were we? Oh, right! Introductions!" the Joker's voice rang out again, full of energy. "Allow me to reintroduce myself: I'm the Joker, your most insanely crazy fan!" He extended his hand for a handshake.

I hesitated. Was he holding one of his infamous shock buzzers? Well, I couldn't back out now. Reluctantly, I shook his hand, silently hoping he wouldn't electrocute me.

"What's wrong, Alex?" the clown asked, noticing my reaction.

"Nothing, Mister J," I replied smoothly. "It's just that these days, you shake someone's hand and then count your fingers to make sure they're all still there."

"Ha-HA-haa! You're funny, Alex!" the Joker laughed. "Exactly how I imagined you'd be. Ha-hee-hee... Don't worry; I won't hurt you. But let's talk about your work. I must say, your book truly captured me. You even put me on the cover! Brilliant! When I saw it, I immediately bought it, and let me tell you—I don't regret it."

His voice took on a more serious tone. "You know, Alex, people often say terrible things about me. Don't believe them—I'm much worse than they think. Still, your writing... It made me feel understood. Most people? They pretend to get me. Especially those psychiatrists at Arkham—they sit there, nodding, acting like they know what's inside me. It's infuriating."

"Maybe so," I said carefully. "But that doesn't stop you from smiling and having fun."

The Joker's face darkened. "I laugh because I have no choice. The smile is carved into my skin, but inside? I'm crying." He locked eyes with me. "Maybe we can cry together?"

How was I supposed to respond to that? I couldn't tell if he was serious or joking. The Joker was an enigma, constantly shifting between laughter and anguish.

"Mister J, why are you here tonight?" I asked, steering the conversation away from dangerous territory.

"Isn't it obvious?" he replied, throwing his arms wide. "To join this grand celebration! Gotham's elite gathered here tonight, and I couldn't resist. Some people say I don't know how to love, but I adore these people. They just don't realize it."

He gestured dramatically, spinning in circles before stopping to face me again.

"Clearly," I said dryly, glancing at the lifeless musicians on stage.

"Aren't you happy about their deaths? No? Oh, well! They're already in hell, warming themselves by the fire," the Joker said nonchalantly, waving off the matter as if it were trivial.

The room filled with disapproving murmurs. I wasn't sure why everyone seemed so shocked—it wasn't like the Joker was known for his repentance.

Sensing the shift in mood, the Joker addressed the crowd. "Oh, don't give me those looks! People say I'm a monster, but I have a kind heart! In fact, I dream of chopping you all up into meat and feeding it to homeless rabbits! Ha-hah-hihi-HA!"

His laughter grew louder and more unhinged, filling the room with a sense of dread. The madness was escalating quickly. If I didn't do something soon, things could turn catastrophic.

I had to save these people. But how? I wasn't a superhero. I had no superpowers to fight back against this chaos. Yet standing idly by while the Joker wreaked havoc wasn't an option either.

.

.

.

Thank you all for reading, hope you all enjoyed the chapters, if you did, then please consider voting with powerstones.

You can read chapters in advance at p@treon.com/annihilator009

Ko-fi.com/annihilator009