"Hey! Boss, are you sure the Joker Gang will attack the warehouse today?"
Inside the warehouse where the Maroni family stored their dirty money, a thug cautiously asked the leader of this operation.
"Of course. My information is reliable." Wells, entrusted with leading this operation, replied confidently, his gaze sharp and threatening as he scanned the group of n.
"Let make this clear: if this operation succeeds, I’ll finally strike it rich. But if anyone dares to ruin this for , don’t bla when my bullet blows their head off!"
The air grew tense as Wells spoke, his words dripping with nace. None of the others doubted his ability to kill. They knew, if given the sa opportunity, they too would cling to it and not tolerate any interference.
After delivering his stern warning, Wells suddenly broke into a smile.
"Of course, I won’t let you down either. Even though tonight’s fight might cost us so brothers, I promise to provide your families with compensation at five tis the standard rate. And once the job is done, the rewards will be generous. A bright future awaits all of us—don’t ruin it over petty gains. Got it?"
After delivering a harsh warning, it was only natural to follow it up with a sweet reward. Although Wells had only been a thug captain in the past, he was well aware of the importance of balancing fear with incentive.
If nothing was offered in return, why would these n risk their lives for him?
Under Wells' rallying speech, everyone straightened up, their spirits reignited.
Whether or not the Joker Gang would attack, as long as they defended the warehouse, it would be a trendous achievent. Naturally, no one wanted to miss out on the rewards within their grasp.
And so, with constant patrolling, the clock struck midnight.
The thugs, who had been on high alert all evening, started to feel the fatigue creeping in.
“Are they really coming? It’s already midnight…” one of them muttered.
But just as that thought crossed his mind, a faint flicker of light appeared on a distant high-rise building.
“What is that…”
Being a seasoned thug, he imdiately grabbed a pair of binoculars for a closer look. What he saw left him utterly stunned.
“Rocket launchers! They’re using rocket launchers!”
Several rockets, each painted with a sinister clown face, streaked through the night sky, trailing colorful streams of fla. From the rooftop of a building hundreds of ters away, they shot straight toward the warehouse's main gate.
“Take cover! Everyone, take cover!”
On closer inspection, the rockets' trajectories were bizarre.
One mont, they flew in a straight line; the next, they veered sharply to the left, only to swerve unpredictably to the right a second later, as if mocking any attempt to anticipate their path.
Yet, despite their erratic flight paths, the rockets hit their target with uncanny precision—every single one striking the warehouse's main gate.
Boom!
A thunderous explosion ripped through the air, blasting the gate wide open.
At the sa ti, fireworks hidden within the rockets burst forth, scattering in all directions. The dazzling sparks that followed ford grotesque clown faces—images every mber of the Maroni family despised with a burning hatred.
“Damn it! Is he treating this gang war like so kind of joke?”
Wells clenched his teeth in fury.
He didn’t fear a full-on assault by the Joker Gang, but this playful, mocking thod of attack felt like a deliberate humiliation.
As he watched the fireworks ignite piles of black money stored in the warehouse, Wells barked out orders imdiately.
“Split off a team to extinguish the flas! Don’t let the money burn to ashes. The rest of you, stay hidden. Don’t let the Joker Gang notice our ambush.”
Under Wells' command, the fire was quickly brought under control. A small portion of cash, reduced to ashes, was a negligible loss compared to the mountains of dirty money stacked in the warehouse.
At that mont, as if intentionally waiting for the Maroni family mbers to be distracted by extinguishing the flas, the Joker Gang launched their charge, accompanied by the Joker's signature sinister laughter.
"Hahahahha!!!"
There were no impassioned battle cries or shouts of desperation. Instead, the Joker Gang mbers burst into unrestrained, mocking laughter. It was as if this wasn’t a life-or-death gunfight but rather a lively masquerade ball—a chaotic carnival of madness where their own lives ant nothing.
"Now! Open fire!"
Wells had anticipated this mont. From the second he sent his n to douse the flas, he had planned to use them as bait.
And, just as he predicted, the Joker Gang exploited the distraction to stage their attack.
From the shadows, the Maroni family’s thugs erged, their guns blazing. Bullets tore through the air, striking down the Joker Gang mbers before they could even raise their weapons. One by one, the intruders crumpled to the ground, lifeless, their maniacal laughter silenced forever.
"Yes! That’s it! Close the gates! Lock them in and kill them all!"
Wells shouted in exhilaration, his voice trembling with excitent. In his mind, the path to power and fortune was now wide open. After tonight, he was certain he would ascend to the Maroni family’s inner circle, centing his place among Gotham’s elite.
At his command, the thugs slowly closed the warehouse doors, trapping the Joker Gang mbers inside. The intruders were quickly overwheld and had no chance to fight back.
"What a sha." Wells muttered. "If only the Joker had co personally. If I could hand him over to Boss Sal, I'd definitely rise even higher in the ranks."
Amid the congratulations of his subordinates, Wells slowly descended from the platform and crouched beside the body of a Joker Gang mber.
"Let see." he murmured, "Who were these fools who decided to follow a lowlife like the Joker?"
Reaching out, Wells carefully removed the clown mask from the dead man’s face.
What lay beneath it was a horrifying sight—an expression frozen in a twisted grin, the man’s face still smiling even in death.
"Huh... So the Joker’s crew is made up of such freaks, huh? Even with a bullet hole through their body, they can still grin like this."
At this, Wells could only feel a cold shiver run down his spine. The victory he believed he had today had wiped away any fear he once held for the Joker. In his mind, after such a crushing defeat, the Joker would never recover. No one would ever follow him again, and the Joker Gang would eventually fade into the darkness of Gotham City’s night.
"But wait, boss..."
At that mont, one of the thugs spoke up, sounding puzzled.
"I think I know this guy... He’s a security guard at the Diamond District casino. He should be working tonight."
"What did you say?"
The news sent a wave of panic through Wells. At the sa ti, his phone suddenly rang.
Shaking, Wells picked up the call.
"Bo... Boss Sal, what’s happening?"
"Wells! Your plan has been exposed!"
On the other end of the line, Sal’s enraged voice bood.
"Not long ago, the Joker Gang attacked our casino in the Diamond District, taking all the security personnel hostage! They weren’t even targeting the warehouse! They’re still going after our other businesses!"
Wells’ confusion deepened at Sal’s words, and an ominous thought began to form in his mind.
"No... no way... they... the Joker Gang—they just attacked the warehouse..."
"What?!"
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