Laughing American comics, I am becoming more and more like a clown

But he didn't throw a punch. Lucian's eyes turned contemptuous, still trying to provoke him: "So you're using assassination as a means? You don't even set an example? You don't tell them the truth? You live your whole life in a daze, oppressed?"

"So that's why you've been ignoring it all these years? Just watching? I don't know how many times I've tested you. Don't fool yourself. You don't care about this city as much as you think."

Silent Bat looked at him and suddenly uttered a word coldly: "Arrogant."

Lucian kept smiling and said to him, "Hypocrisy."

……

It seems that the Silent Bat has found out about Lucian's resurrection in the tomb, and he no longer tries to kill him.

If he didn't kill him, continuing to linger would only waste time. The Silent Bat finally uttered his last sentence, which was the least aggressive and even calming of his words:

"You paint your face in all sorts of colors, trying to make others laugh; you put this dignity on the screen for people to see, using words and deception to deceive; you are restless and can't do anything impressive - you are a woodlice, earthworm, ant, leech, mosquito, annoying - standing on the stage like a clown."

……

Lucian actually understood that the Silent Bat definitely understood his current mental state and knew exactly what to do to make him sad and break his defenses.

But in reality, even though I know it, it is different.

Whether it was -22 who took the initiative to assume the title of "Joker" and was called "Joker", or was called so by little Bruce helplessly and calmly, or was driven by interests and snatched the title from the Man-Pig-Bat... this is different.

Lucian looked at him, and asked cautiously and tentatively, "What am I?"

Silent Bat looked at him: "Joker."

……

The legend of Oedipus Rex in the previous world is connected with the fate of the clown, Lucian.

There is a passage in Sophocles' poem "Oedipus the King":

“Only when one is trying to escape his fate will one meet his own destiny.”

Chapter 189 Batman!!

As Lucian was talking to the Silent Bat, the screen above the crowd came to an end:

"I tell you the truth, but I won't lead you. You always fight for yourself, of course, if you want a title."

"You can call me Batman."

The screen went out, and the figure with heavy oil paint on his face disappeared from the screen.

…People didn’t know why he called himself Batman, and they didn’t care; the title was the least important thing about the speech.

The silent bat perched on the eaves stopped dead in its tracks upon hearing these words and looked back into the distance.

Lucian stood there, smiling, his face blurred by the smoke from the cigarette in his hand. "It's you who didn't stand up."

The Silent Bat is the ghost of the city. He exists in this city unknown to everyone and does not interfere at all.

"And I told them the truth. I let them know about the image of Batman. Why can't I be Batman? We all know that the trademark that is registered first has legal effect and is recognized by people... fake."

Lucian spread his arms, and only then did the Silent Bat notice the strangeness of his clothes - like a Chinese Han robe, with long sleeves, but mixed with modern design styles connected to the hem - when he spread his arms, he looked like an extreme athlete in a flight suit, and of course, also like a complicated and gorgeous bat.

……

The Silent Bat really left this time.

……

"Honestly, I'm going to vote for him."

Starting with a sigh, the crowd became chaotic. They began to discuss the Court of Owls and thought of their bosses, the electric light manufacturers, who controlled a lot of wealth.

They were no longer as orderly as worker ants. Instead, everyone looked at each other silently, expressed their opinions loudly, and made decisions.

When did it start?

It starts with a man breaking into a convenience store, coming out with a gun raised, and firing a volley of bullets into the air.

It sounds a lot like firecrackers.

Zaven looked at the black screen gloomily. At this moment, he was sitting on the ground with difficulty, leaning on a crutch. His face and body were covered with oil. It was hard to believe that half a month ago, he was still a landlord who was healthy enough to develop extra hobbies and even afford insurance.

He recognized Lucien's face—even though it was covered in paint, Zaven still recognized it, and he hated that face.

"Humph, bullshit, fuck, bitch!" He muttered in a low voice, "You broke my leg, you bankrupted me... Even now, even the police haven't caught you. Fine, fine, you're the one who..."

He held up a battered, low-battery flip phone and took a picture of the screen, just enough to capture Lucien's face. "Wait, wait, you're going to get caught, bitch!"

At this time, Zaven did not realize that it was two different people who killed the tenant and shot him, but perhaps he knew it. No matter what, he vented all his hatred and resentment on Lucian.

……

GCPD

The police station is unusually busy. When the League of Assassins cooperated with the Court of Owls, the police station was under the control of the League of Assassins, but now they are breaking up.

The police station was also constantly being criticized.

"Three days to find the murderer who assassinated District Chief Flanders... Oh my God, how come I didn't know I was actually an Aladdin's lamp?"

The captain received the letter and couldn't help but sneer.

"Think more generously, Captain." Bob consoled him, "At least in their eyes, you're more capable. You can grant far more than three wishes."

The captain put the letter in the pile, which included not only the district chief, but also bankers, philanthropists, well-known entrepreneurs, town mayors, and so on.

"Just pick someone and throw him to jail." He waved his hand and didn't take it seriously.

"Knock, knock—" There was a knock on the door, and a voice came from outside: "Captain, someone is looking for you."

"Who? Mr. Emil's assistant? Mr. Miller's wife? Ms. Albert's subordinate?"

"Neither. He said his name was Zavon Allison, that he knew you, and that he had a case he wanted to discuss with you."

Zavin Allison? Who is this?

The captain looked at Bob beside him questioningly, and Bob had the same question.

"What is it for?"

"Uh... Looks like he's a beggar."

The captain's frown deepened. Just as he was about to send the man away, his peripheral vision caught sight of the letter and he took back the words he was about to utter: "Let him in."

……

The facial matching will definitely be successful. Then I will put him on the bounty list and I will get a certain amount of subsidy. At least I won’t live as miserably as I do now.

Zawen followed the police officer's lead and walked into the interrogation room. He gave a flattering smile to the captain sitting opposite him: "I found the murderer."

"Who to kill?" the captain asked nonchalantly.

"You forgot, I was originally the little Zaven in the East District—the landlord of the house where a murder occurred half a month ago. Look." He pointed to his legs: "Thanks to you for reminding me that I can keep these legs."

Now remembering it, the captain and Bob exchanged glances with a smile.

"Zhawen, Zawen, I wonder if you are really stupid." Bob shook his head: "How dare you come here to find us."

"Uh." Zawen flattered even more: "Officer, I found the real culprit—he's too outrageous! Uh." Looking at the expressions of the two men, he became somewhat indignant: "He disturbed public order! And then, he made reactionary remarks! And he even engaged in incitement!"

Zavin rubbed his hands, but his hands were fixed, so he could only cross his fingers: "It doesn't matter to me...but he is endangering Gotham."

"That's why I came to tell you..."

Bob didn't say anything. The pen moved on the paper, and the tip of the pen made a rustling sound. Zaven had a bad feeling, and he twisted his fingers together and gave an ugly smile.

"Zha Wen." The captain suddenly spoke without any emotion: "We now suspect that you are involved in the mayor's murder. You are the biggest suspect."

The mayor's murder case?

Although Zawen didn't know what happened, he had a premonition and hurriedly shook his head to explain, "Officer, officer, you know, my foot was injured half a month ago, and I can't walk... I have a medical certificate from the hospital, a medical certificate."

Zaven wanted to take it out of his pocket and show it to them, but his hands and body were fixed, and he couldn't move no matter how he did. He could only lean forward to signal.

This will cause the head to tilt forward, like a prisoner waiting to be executed on the guillotine.

"Yesterday, you sneaked into Oliva Street in the Diamond District and killed the mayor."

Although Zavin had never heard of Oliva Street, he knew about the Diamond District - a strictly regulated and out-of-reach area for the wealthy.

"I'm in the East District! Officer! I'm in the East District! I've never left the East District! And look at my feet! I can't even walk properly. I can't kill anyone!"

"Officer! Officer!"

No one paid any attention to him. The captain glanced at the file record written by Bob and nodded slightly: "Very good, now help him confess."

Bob put down his pen, pulled out the electric baton from his waist, and walked towards Zaven.

The captain was already a little tired of this and had no interest in listening to any more screams, pleas, or cries of injustice. He had heard a lot of them recently.

He went out and closed the door, took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. The door was well soundproofed and no sound disturbed him.

The captain flicked the ash off his cigarette and waved to the police officer standing nearby.

"Hello, Captain."

The captain pointed to the door and said, "Bob probably won't make it in time for lunch, so save some for him."

"Okay, sir."

He walked back while smoking, his mind still on the series of assassinations of rich people, and he was impressed by the high efficiency of the organization.

The captain didn't care about Zaven at all - he was just a fool who didn't know how to live or die and thought that the police could bring him fairness and justice.

Well, he was a little curious as he flicked the ash - how could such a simple person still be alive in this city?

……

Zaven pleaded guilty, after his ankle was broken.

He stiffly took the pen, wrote his name on the confession, and pressed his fingerprint, without taking his eyes off his pulled feet.

Zaven didn't even dare to look up at Bob. He sat timidly on the chair, his whole body still fixed, and the belts and iron rings did not loosen at all despite his struggle.

Bob looked at the confession with satisfaction. This time, it was not stained with blood or other suspicious liquids. He flicked the paper and was about to stand up, but he heard the "criminal" in front of him mumbling something.

Very subtle.

Bob leaned over to listen and heard: "bat, bat."

Bats, bats.