“You an... a lightweight version?”
“Yes. I need a suit light enough to wear on the go.”
“Then we’ll need to cut down to only the bare essentials.”
“Even that’s better than not wearing one at all.”
“Understood.”
A brief flash of mory passed through Jin Wayne’s mind.
The saying: “All that hype, and nothing to eat.” Maybe it was because lunatics always showed up and ruined everything.
He’d had that suspicion for a long ti—
Which was why he brought the Batsuit along in the first place.
He just didn’t expect it would co in handy this quickly.
“I really hoped I’d never have to use it...”
BANG!
The mont Jin Wayne changed into his suit—
No, the mont Batman reerged—
The very first thing he did was bring down the chandelier.
He caused a loud commotion to divert attention—
Then killed the lights, making it impossible for the clowns to control the scene fully.
Foolishly, the vehicles the clowns arrived in had their headlights turned off, which ant that, if they moved carefully, so hostages might be able to escape on their own.
And finally, the most important step—
“Have you found ?”
THUD!
He grabbed a hostage just like they did—to divert attention.
From the start, the target had only been one person:
The white-clad clown with the green hair.
He seized the Joker by the nape, and in a single fluid motion—
CLICK.
He pressed the muzzle of his gun against the back of the Joker’s head. A flawless ambush in total darkness. He’d struck at the perfect mont—before the clown’s eyes had adjusted.
“Sha you won’t be seeing my face tonight.”
“Woohoo! Haha! Batman, you’re hot! You’re on fire!”
But the green-haired clown didn’t seem fazed. Like a terminal patient convinced of his immortality, he kept laughing as he spoke:
“So you’re making yourself the hostage now? If you aim at , mmm... instinctively, my dumb little cards’ll only be watching you, right?”
“Cards?”
“Yeah! Cards! You saw ‘em too, didn’t you? Hmm, I think the one you got was... the King of Clubs? The King of Luck!”
Batman didn’t dignify that nonsense with a reply. Instead, he kept quiet. The Joker squird in delight at even that silence.
“Trying to stall? Useless! The others are high out of their minds! Mmm, they’ll probably try to light up the place with bullets soon!”
He spoke like an actor reading lines from a perfectly rehearsed script.
“I know.”
CRACK!
Batman slamd the Joker’s head into the ground.
CLINK!
Then hurled a flashbang grenade into the air.
“Down!”
The drugged-up clowns, incapable of coherent thought, and the hostages, already cowering—
That contrast made all the difference.
Those on drugs, who couldn’t orient themselves, were montarily blinded by the flashbang. Even if it wasn’t powerful, it was enough to knock out their vision.
“Aaaagh!”
“My eyes! My eyes!”
“I can’t see anything!”
“Just shoot! Shouldn’t we be shooting?!”
“Don’t shoot, you’ll hit us! Who’s taking responsibility?!”
Chaos erupted in an instant.
Batman didn’t waste the opportunity.
CLICK.
He drew two pistols. Equipped with suppressors, their power was drastically reduced—but in this situation, that was a benefit.
Thup.
Thup.
Taking full advantage of his superior night vision, he fired clean shots into the clowns’ shoulders and ribs.
Shooting other parts could lead them to pull the trigger. But this way—they couldn’t even lift their arms.
Of course...
THWACK!
“Guh...!”
It was impossible to dodge every stray bullet in a firefight. One round slamd into his bulletproof plate hard enough to crack the bone underneath—but he couldn’t afford to stop.
Pinning the Joker down with a boot to his upper spine, Batman thodically eliminated the drug-fueled clowns with his dual pistols.
Two faint beams of light moved steadily through the shadows, silencing targets one by one.
Every muzzle flash from a clown’s gun briefly illuminated the fear now etched across their faces.
Even chemically induced courage couldn’t stand against this. Gotham’s deepest darkness had returned—and once more, it stole away their laughter.
“Hahahahahaha!”
Only the Joker laughed.
Everyone else had fallen silent.
Thud.
As the last clown collapsed—
“Huff... huff...”
Batman gasped, exhaling ragged breaths.
—“Alfred here. Restoring power now.”
“...Do it.”
With the butler’s help, the lights of the ballroom returned—
Revealing the complete wreckage of the charity party.
“What a fun party, Batman.”
“Shut up. You’re going to prison.”
“Mmm, yeah, that’s right. I’ll be heading to jail now.”
Humming a random tune, the Joker wiggled slightly and pulled sothing from his coat.
A sudden movent. Was it a suicide bombing?
But what ca out was just a card.
“Batman, do you know how to count?”
“...What?”
“Y’know... count cards. Like, how many are in a deck.”
“...What the hell are you talking about?”
“We’re short a few, hahaha! You get it? Do you?”
The mont he said it, Batman looked around in alarm.
And then it hit him—
“...Where are they?”
The mayor and the police chief—
Nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, did you find them?”
“Where are they?!”
“Whoa, whoa, don’t be so aggressive. If you scare too hard and I wet myself... well, you really don’t want to imagine what happens next, do you?”
They were gone. Gone without a trace.
***
“The most dangerous mont of a journey,”
“is right before you return ho.”
Just when you think it’s all over—that’s when the real threat hits.
The police, late as always, finally arrived to arrest the Joker. But in the power dynamic between the two, it was the Joker who held the upper hand.
“This is insane.”
“That’s not acting anymore—that’s a straight-up maniac.”
“How does soone even improve on sothing like this?”
The audience had forgotten how to shut their mouths. Lighting, CGI, body doubles—used masterfully for a flawless one-man dual role.
The most spine-chilling part?
It was genuinely impossible to believe Batman and the Joker were played by the sa person.
“Haha, you’re all looking at like that... You’re making nervous. Should I throw in a joke or two?”
No matter how many cops bared their teeth or used violence, that grin never faded from the Joker’s face.
Still smacking his lips, he ignored the ss of green hair falling in his eyes—
Beaming under the dim, mold-scented interrogation room lights.
“Afraid they’ll die? Heehee! Hahahahaha!!”
He savored the moldy stench like perfu, eyes dancing around the room.
“Aren’t you going to try the ol’ good cop, bad cop routine? I think it’s about ti I got a cheeseburger.”
“We see things differently.”
“Oh?”
“We’re worse than that.”
SLAM!
Commissioner Gordon’s voice had barely finished when the Joker’s skull was slamd to the floor.
The lights were cut—and in the dark, the violence poured in.
“Don’t talk. I’ll make sure you never speak again.”
“Oho! Hohoho! Haha! So you’re here now!”
So that was the “good cop” earlier. Still no cheeseburger, though.
Even while getting beaten, his expression never cracked. He grimaced, sure—but he never twisted.
Maybe because he was already twisted beyond repair. Like staring directly into chaos itself.
The audience was captivated by the Joker’s madness. And the story moved quickly.
The police chief and the mayor—
Now hostages, held sowhere, as the Joker laughed it up in a holding cell.
Batman pressed him for answers.
But pressure didn’t work.
How do you intimidate a man who no longer fears death or pain?
“Ah... well, I’m not good with riddles, so I’ll just give you a hint.”
“Rember the orphanage? Where you beca the King of Luck? I think there might be another lucky surprise there.”
“New luck.”
Batman instantly understood—that ant sothing terrible.
“You’ve taken the children hostage too?”
“Just one...! Just make one choice, will you? The mayor who’ll lead the future. The chief who’ll clean it. Or the children who’ll light it.”
“I suck at riddles, Batman. I only know how to offer bad choices.”
“Sorry, Bats. I’ll approach you smarter next ti.”
The screen cut to black.
Then flickered back on—to show the hostages.
And in front of them, on a small TV, the Joker appeared.
“Let’s start the ga... Was that line good? Always wanted to say it. Because, y’know... it’s famous.”
“It’s nothing fancy. I suck at designing gas... so it’s just a choice ga! Like a ladder ga! Or coin flip!”
“Trolley... trolley sothing? One orphans, or you. That kind of thing.”
Only the mayor and police chief were shown the broadcast. The orphanage heard nothing.
The kids never had a choice. In front of them sat a bomb, ard and ready.
“Don’t worry—no one will hear about this. Nope.”
“Because the bomb in front of you has a ten-minute tir! Just like Cinderella’s slipper, get it?”
“And when the clock strikes—BOOM! Magic.”
A future full of promise, versus children in an orphanage. The Joker gave them a decision.
And when the video cut out, the mayor and commissioner started thrashing madly in their restraints.
But the bindings didn’t budge. The cara slowly pulled back... to the Joker in the cell.
“Tell where they are!”
“Of course I’ll tell you. Eventually. But... now? Hmm, not yet.”
He laughed as if it were all a joke—even under more brutal blows, the Joker never stopped smiling.
He wiped sothing from his face—blood mixed with sweat—and the makeup smudged, revealing the face beneath.
“Wait... you’re—”
“Ah, oops. Did I sar a little? Familiar face, huh? Jin Wayne. That super-famous chaebol. But don’t worry, I’m not him, haha!”
He looks just like ?
Batman’s eyes flickered with surprise—but only briefly. This wasn’t the ti to let that distract him.
“Ah... makeup coming off? That must an the show’s almost over. Pity. Alright then—by the rules, I’ll give you the address.”
“But I might be a little late.”
The location finally slipped out. Police units sward to save the hostages—
And Batman?
“Leaving here, Bats? I thought we had a date!”
VRRROOOM!
Ignoring the Joker’s rambling, he jumped on his bike.
CRASH!
The engine roared with a fury no two-wheeled vehicle should be able to produce—a streak of light tore through the streets.
But of course, the action wasn’t over. Clowns leapt out to block him.
He thought they were all dealt with. Didn’t matter.
You can’t stop night from falling. And clowns always collapse before fear.
A truck closed in from each side—two sedans trailed behind.
RATATATATATA!
They had only one target: the Bat.
KRAK-KRANG!
Sparks exploded across the road.
“Switch to autopilot.”
“Confird.”
And the light was swallowed back into the dark.
Streetlights blinked off one by one.
“They didn’t tell us about this!”
“Shoot! Kill him!”
“We already got paid! Just do it!”
A wire launched from the Batbike, snagged a truck and slamd it into a concrete pillar—
SCREEEEEECH—CRASH!
One truck overturned, clowns flying.
Nothing could stop him. He had to make sure the past didn’t repeat itself.
“He’s actually here!”
“Blow it! Just blow the damn thing!”
Tick.
Tick.
“The detonator’s not working!”
“Then kill him! Kill him first!”
To protect the children, Batman dove into enemy lines—his cape shielding the blast.
“I won’t kill you.”
He appeared in front of them.
“...But I’ll make it hurt like hell.”
***
The mayor and the police chief—both chose to die rather than let the children suffer.
Their bombs never detonated.
When no explosion ca, the Joker—impatient—tried triggering the orphanage bomb remotely.
BOOM!
The explosion made noise—but no casualties.
The children watched in awe—as the hero was hurled through the air by the blast.
And rose again.
He stood tall, # Nоvеlight # a judge in the darkness, punishing the guilty.
A hope that absorbed every ounce of light. A dark figure made of a hundred blended hues of hope.
Etched deep into every child’s heart.
He saved them all.
By the ti the police arrived, only the children remained.
Batman, once again, beca a nightmare carved into the minds of criminals.
And so—
Click.
Thunk.
The police, out of reverence, projected the Bat Signal into the sky.
It was fear.
It was trauma.
But it was also proof that hope still existed in Gotham.
BOOM.
BOOM-BOOM!
End credits rolled.
But the theater lights stayed off. The audience knew there had to be a post-credit scene.
And sure enough, the screen flickered back on.
“Can you really work soone this hard?”
“Didn’t you say you needed money?”
“Yeah, but... maybe I needed sothing stronger than that.”
A wounded Batman being helped away—
By Catwoman.
The first post-credit scene.
Then, after a long credit crawl, the screen lit up one more ti—
“Aha, hahaha! The first ti always fails, doesn’t it? First tis are clumsy. Isn’t that right?”
The Joker.
“Oh, by the way, Batman—I never told you this, but the Joker card... actually...”
He’s in Arkham Asylum. Sitting alone in solitary confinent, staring into the surveillance cara.
“Heh. Spoiling it now would be boring. I’ll stop here. I have a lot of friends in here, you know. And also...”
The cara pulls away—
And a new voice chis in.
“Joker, please look at , not the cara.”
“Oh? Is it therapy ti already?”
A woman slowly walks into fra.
No grand reveal. No narration.
Just a woman in a doctor’s coat.
“...It’s ti for your session.”
Her natag?
“Harley.”
CLUNK.
The mont her na was visible, Murcielago ended.
No more post-credits.
The lights ca on.
But no one in the audience could move.
“Holy shit... that was insane.”
The thrill was overwhelming. And just like that—
[Did you know a chaleon’s sperm turns purple depending on its environnt?]
– Batman and Joker: sa person. Joker = Kim Donghu.
– Batman and Catwoman have sothing going on. Saved all the orphan kids.
– Seems like there’s a spy in the ranks—probably setting up for Part 2.
– Joker ends up in Arkham by the end. Harley Quinn makes her debut.
The spoiler flood hit the internet—like wildfire.
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