American comic book: After mastering resurrection, I became incredibly popular.

"Be a good father and be there for them as they grow up," Thomas said.

Bruce Wayne opened his mouth, but before he could respond, time had passed.

Wang Baixi's body trembled violently, and he staggered forward a step. Fortunately, Bruce caught his shoulder, preventing him from falling.

"How did my hand end up on your shoulder?" Wang Baixi opened his eyes, reverting to his carefree self.

“Your dad’s quite the talker. My voice is almost hoarse.” He regained his original tone. “Now, do you want to say hello to your mom? Or do you want to continue the call for another ten minutes? Hey, Bruce, why did you suddenly turn your face away?”

Bruce quickly wiped away his tears, looked at Wang Baixi as calmly as possible, and after thinking for a moment, he slowly shook his head, "Let's forget about it today. My eyes are a little swollen, there's no need for her to worry about me."

"Good boy!" Wang Baixi smiled and gave him a thumbs up, without trying to persuade him further. Then he patted Bruce on the shoulder and walked towards the road outside the cemetery. "Let's go, boss, let's go home."

Chapter Sixty-One: What can relieve sorrow? Only a clown.

What is the thing Penguin regrets most in his life?

It wasn't that Batman caught him smuggling weapons, it wasn't that someone stuffed a live rat into his mouth, and it wasn't that he spent three whole days in jail without even getting a proper cigar.

But damn it, his favorite nightclub had been taken away, bowl and all.

It was his own "second-in-command" who took it away!

"Fuck you, Wang Baixi, I should have thrown you into Gotham Bay to feed the fish back then."

At this moment, the Penguin is in an underground bar on the edge of the Diamond District, lamenting the impermanence of life.

The bar wasn't doing much business. Two elderly patrons sat in a corner staring blankly at the television, while a dancer in a sequined halter dress leaned against the jukebox, studying how it worked.

He had Lark and a few of his confidants sit at the next table, with the exception of his beloved parrot "Bobby," who was allowed to stay by his side, but had to remain obediently in its cage.

“Relax, Cobblestone. I can take back the base anytime I want,” the Penguin muttered to himself.

However, "Bobby" suddenly cried out excitedly:

"Fuck your mother, fuck your mother, fuck your mother."

"..." The penguin downed a glass of vodka and, drunk, said to the caged bird, "Are you fucking tired of living?!"

Bobby flapped his wings twice and shouted again, "Fuck your mother."

"I'll throw you into the wood chipper when I get back."

Just as Penguin was pondering whether steamed parrot or braised parrot was more flavorful to accompany his drinks, the bar's spring door was kicked open from the outside, and four young men wearing clown masks rushed in, brandishing pistols.

The leader even slammed the gun barrel against the bar twice.

"Everyone, freeze! Hand over your wallets and phones! Hurry up! Or you'll get shot!"

Lark and several people at the next table stood up at the same time, all reaching inside their suits. Penguin, however, didn't even lift his eyelids, but simply raised his right hand and made a pressing motion in the air.

"sit down."

Lark hesitated for a moment, then sat back down in her chair, but her hand remained on the gun handle.

Only then did the thugs realize who was sitting in the corner of the bar. The leader, holding the gun, suddenly trembled. He swallowed hard, then forced a calm expression and shouted, "I don't care who you are! This is our territory!"

Before he could finish speaking, the spring door was pushed open again.

"Don't be nervous, kids, today is truly your day."

A figure in a purple suit slid in through the door. He had green hair and his walking speed was completely out of sync with the tune he was humming.

The thugs turned around and saw a scarlet smile spread across that pale face.

"clown!?"

"Get out." The clown waved his hand.

The four young men immediately scrambled out of the bar. The two older patrons in the corner also pushed away their glasses, lowered their heads, and quickly slipped out through the side door.

The dancer next to the jukebox ran the fastest; she didn't even look back, as if just hearing the sound was enough.

The huge bar was suddenly left with only the Penguin Gang members and the Joker.

Oh, and there's the bartender hiding behind the bar.

"You've become quite polite these past few days, Mr. J." The Penguin chuckled. "I thought Bane had killed you. Where have you been all this time?"

A few weeks ago, the Joker did indeed escape from Arkham, and since then he has done absolutely nothing, disappearing without a trace, leading people to wonder if he had already reformed.

The clown lifted the bartender, who was hunched over with his head in his hands, up. He let out a burp, then smiled at the bartender. "Two martinis, one for Mr. Penguin, and one for myself."

"Hey, I'm asking you where you've been all this time?" the penguin gritted his teeth.

“Where else can we go? Just visiting other people’s places,” the Joker said, taking off his suit jacket and draping it over the bar like a white-collar worker who had just finished get off work. His tone suddenly turned sinister. “That’s not important, Cobblepot. What’s important is that I saw everything on the news. Well, a huge failure. Gotham’s underworld has suffered an unprecedented defeat, including you, of course.”

The penguin stared into the clown's eyes, his gaze so angry it seemed to spit fire, but the clown merely pursed his lips slightly, as if he had seen something very interesting.

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

"I have a grand plan, would you like to hear it?"

According to the cartoons Penguin watched as a child, "grand plans" always fail.

Before the Penguin could answer, the Joker pulled out a folded blueprint from inside his suit and slammed it onto the bar.

"I'm going to blow up the whole of Gotham."

The penguin almost spit out his drink through his nose.

"My God, your idea coincides with mine! I also want to blow certain people up into the sky." The Penguin laughed. He'd heard the Joker's crazy talk far too many times; it was always the same formula. "Nuclear weapons, you know?"

"How did you know?" the clown asked, his eyes wide.

The penguin's smile froze.

"No, are you serious?"

“You should know, I used to be Iran’s ambassador to the United Nations.” The Joker picked up the two martinis on the bar, pushed one in front of the Penguin, and held the other in his hand without drinking it. “I know their nuclear weapons experts, so I have some connections.”

"Please, Iran is too busy taking care of itself!"

Do we really have to talk about such sensitive topics?

The Penguin looked at the Joker in disbelief.

Madman! Ridiculous! Utterly absurd!

Any sane Gotham resident would have stood up, paid the bill, and left by now, but the Penguin didn't. He suddenly realized he was a criminal too, and he also sensed something amiss in the Joker's tone.

This guy is serious, but being serious doesn't mean it's feasible.

"Don't just focus on the nuclear bomb, I have other resources." The Joker pointed to a map with his fingertip, a crookedly drawn diagram of Gotham City's underground pipe network. "Take a look at this map. I heard it was drawn by Bane to rule the city, but I suspect that damn court also played a part. Ahem, back to the point. Gotham's sewers are a vast network, and Bane left behind enough explosives. As long as Killer Croc clears the way for us, we can turn the entire Gotham underground pipe network into a fuse."

"Forget about it, Killer Croc has become mentally challenged."

The clown paused, tilting his head to the left and then to the right.

“It’s a shame, he used to be quite adorable.” He sighed, but quickly resumed his signature grin. “It’s okay, it’s okay! Even so, we have plenty of ways to get these explosives to the pipe connection point. Cobblestone, a true artist doesn’t abandon a painting just because he’s missing a paintbrush.”

The penguin stared at the map on the bar for a long time, then he pushed his glass away.

"I am not interested."

These words only made the clown laugh even harder. He pulled a crowbar from inside his suit, kissed it with a smile, then placed it horizontally on the bar, and then disappeared somewhere else.

“You know what, Cobblepot, I’ve always thought you and I are a lot alike,” the Joker said, leaning against the bar, chin in hand. “We both hate following the rules, we’re both natural revolutionaries!”

"Looks like you went to participate in the Imam Revolution, dear Ambassador. Besides nuclear weapons, you also brought back a green hat," the Penguin quipped.

"What do you mean? You don't believe me?"

"To be honest, what you said, like this city, is a pile of 'dog shit'."

Bobby yelled, "Bullshit! Shit!"

The clown stopped smiling.

"No! What truly turned Gotham into a pile of shit was Batman. He first gave Gothamites the illusion that they could fight back against criminals, saving them from the clutches of death every time, but then what?"

"Nothing has changed in Gotham except for the cars you smashed and the buildings we burned down."

"What this city needs isn't hope, it needs a restart. Suddenly, everyone soared into the sky, like red balloons released on a holiday..."

Do you think this joke is funny?

"Enough, stop lecturing me." The penguin squinted. "If you're here to collaborate, you've come to the wrong person..."

“Wrong. I know a name, and you certainly know that name too. That person is a thorn in our side, a thorn in our flesh,” the clown slowly uttered.

Penguin's eyelid twitched.

"Wang Baixi".

"You know him?" The Penguin put down his glass.

“I know everything, Cobblestone. Wang Baixi’s name has spread throughout the underworld. Most people suspect that he brought Batman back to life. In just three days, his reputation has spread like wildfire, and even the League of Assassins is trying to find him. And you, don’t you want to beat them to it and catch him, and tear him to pieces?”

The Penguin was silent for a few seconds, then picked up the martini that the Joker had pushed towards him and took a small sip.

"Go on with your plan, I'm all ears."

"I'm giving you a mission. Tomorrow, you kidnap Wang Baixi. Then I'll have someone plan an attack. Batman and his crew will be out in force when they smell it. That's when we can plant the explosives. Who will care about a few nuclear bombs then?"

The clown started laughing again.

"I can't wait to see Batman's expression, hehehe, hehehe, hehehehehe."

He laughed and laughed, then suddenly brought his face close to the penguin's, his eyes narrowing into two black crescents. "Don't make me look down on you, penguin."

After saying that, he turned and walked towards the bar entrance, his leather shoes making a squeaking sound on the floor.

"Wait a minute!" the penguin called out to the retreating figure, then asked expressionlessly, "Where am I supposed to look for him?"

The Joker's smile stretched from the corners of his mouth all the way to his ears. "You can try your luck at Wayne Tower."

Chapter Sixty-Two: I Want to Rebuild Gotham