Chapter 179 Laugh it Off (Part 2)_1

Everyone present could hear their whispers. As members of the Court of Owls thought, if Alberto was lying, pressing the button would not kill Haru but someone else. Everyone felt that the odds of them being the one wouldn't come their way.

If Alberto was telling the truth and Haru was the one to get murdered, there would be no loss for them. Rather, they would avoid the risk of the bomb being triggered because Haru landed first.

They reasoned that Haru, whose mask had already been removed, was marked for death. Even if he didn't die today, the Godfather wouldn't let him see another sunrise.

"I don't want to die! I don't want to die! You can't press... Cheli, are you insane? You want to kill me! You can't press it!" Haru began to cry desperately. Tears and snot smudged his face, and his plump body writhed incessantly.

"Hey!" Gordon suddenly stood up, pointing his gun at the tall, thin man, saying, "You can't press it. Murdering is a crime. I will arrest you."

"Really? Detective?" Shiller rose to say. "He's merely pushing a button from afar, causing another person to die. Can you evidence that it was him who committed the murder? What counts as the murder weapon here? The button?"

"Please! Officer! Don't listen to them. Save me!" Haru cried aloud pitifully.

Falcone spoke: "Officer, in the absence of evidence, you can't just shoot. But in your capacity as a policeman, you can ask him to identify himself. Even if he has no driver's license or other identification, at the very least he should remove his mask."

"No! There are no such rules!! You can't reveal my identity!!" cried the tall, slender man desperately.

"Press it, Cheli! Kill him quickly! How do you know in the next round his belly won't touch the ground first? We'll all die if that happens!"

"Don't press it! I don't want to die! If you press it, your mask will be removed too, and you and your family...will all die..."

"You can't press it, you know this is murder and I will arrest you."

"Of course you can press it! This detective has no evidence, and a police officer's rules don't apply here..."

Like a disjointed montage, everyone was vehemently stating their case. The light slid from one face to another. A shot didn't even last for two seconds before it switched to the next.

Finally, it was the Joker's tumultuous banging on the triangle that silenced the argument.

Cheli was already sweating profusely, and Haru looked deathly pale. Suddenly, Haru exclaimed as though a lightbulb had just lit up in his head, "The first answer, the first answer points to a woman! If you dare let Cheli press the button, I'll press mine too!"

"No!" A woman hanging in the air yelled. "You're mad! Cheli is my lover. I'll let him kill you first, you ignorant fat pig!"

"Haru... please, you are as good as dead. Falcone knows who you are. You know very well there's no escape for you. Why not contribute to our survival?" The woman suddenly broke into sobs.

"You're the one who's mad! You and your slut! You think Cheli is really a European noble? He's just a scammer! A broke sailor! You're all perfect for each other!!"

"If I'm going to die, I'll drag all of you with me!" Haru roared, spittle flying all around.

"Damn you, Court of Owls! Damn you, High Councillors! I've had enough. A scammer who cheats to rise, a hoe who self-recommends and shares beds for position, and then you lot! You really think you're something special? You've all always looked down on me!"

Haru appeared to have a complete mental breakdown, swearing crazily.

Cheli began to tremble all over, crying, "I can't do it, they will unmask me. Falcone will kill me and my family. I've a wife and kids. Oh God! Save me!"

Upon hearing Cheli's prayer, the priest in the lower ground made the sign of the cross on his chest, but said nothing.

"Ding! Ding! Time's up!" The Joker tapped the triangle and said cheerfully, "Since he didn't make a choice, by default he chooses not to press it. Alright, next!"

Deliberately bypassing several people, he walked to the slightly old figure and said, "You seem to be their leader, so I'll give you a privilege. Who do you choose?"

The elderly man, apparently unfazed, responded in a low voice, "I choose the professor."

"What?" The Joker pretended not to hear him over the noise of solidly hitting the triangle iron. "He said he chooses Falcone…"

"I heard him mention me," Shiller stood up. The Joker uttered a curse and replied irritably, "You have already used up your hint. He can't …"

"Then, I'll purchase another ticket. You should still have some left, right? At least..." Shiller glanced at the Joker's suit pocket and said, "You definitely still have one in your pocket. I saw it earlier."

The Joker started to search his pockets, rummaging for a while before producing a torn piece of paper. Irritably, clown crumbled it into a ball and threw it at Shiller.

The piece of paper dropped halfway through its trajectory, but somehow, it flew toward Shiller. Shiller caught it.

The elderly spoke, "Even without clues, I chose you simply because I want to make a deal. I see you have the ability to shake the rules of this game."

"But I'm sorry, there's no rule for an actor to exit midway. After all, I bought the ticket."

"I'm not seeking an exit, just hoping for a change in the rules."

"What part do you want to change?"

"If you make a request to me, I can choose not to ask for a clue but opt for a favor from you instead."

"State your request first, and then I'll consider whether to agree."

"I want to give up the button I have. You guys should take it."

"What? Mr. Meng! Have you gone mad? How will you defend yourself when others want to press the button to kill you?"

Shiller suddenly lowered his head. He laughed, saying, "It seems like you must be a member of the previous generation of the Court of Owls?"

"I can only say, if it were your generation, this method might work. But you've long destroyed your roots and chosen the wrong path."

"Do you think if you demonstrate how to escape this dilemma, they will follow you? If it were this simple, they wouldn't have exposed themselves."

"Everyone knows the logic. If everyone throws away their buttons, this show can't go on. Then neither the audience nor the host could do anything about it."

"We're not murderers, our goal isn't to kill, we just want to watch a good show. If you refuse to perform in this way, we won't engage in carnage, because that's too boring."

"Unfortunately, the peers around you are no longer owls in pursuit of ultimate darkness and chaos, they are only Talon assassins brainwashed by your brutal methods. They no longer possess your noble beliefs of transcending personal interests."

"They won't throw away the buttons in their hands. They firmly believe those are weapons to threaten others from pressing the button."

"Even if I tell them the answer now, they still wouldn't willing to do it."

The old man sighed, he said, "It seems all is lost. I take back my choice, my choice is... Batman,"

As this word fell, countless spotlights once again focused on Batman. Joker leaned back, opening his mouth wide in a surprise expression.

He ran quickly to the front of the stage, then waved to the lighting technician, asking him to cast all the spotlights on him. He made funny faces at Batman relentlessly. When he found Batman ignoring him, he rushed into the band, clumsily picked up a drum, and carried it to the center of the stage, rolling up his sleeves to play.

After the commotion, he found Batman still ignoring him, he stood slumped in disappointment. He scowled and snarled, "I should have tied myself up there, then when I say I choose Batman, he would surely be very surprised, he might even laugh".

At that moment, Batman saw time slow and the entire opera house freeze, whether on stage or under it, everyone was set in a still scene of a drama, every expression and move was crisp and clear.

Falcone was engaged in a low conversation with Father Daniel. His face was etched with the wrinkles of time, but his eyes under the brow were still filled with a sharp glint.

Batman saw madness in Falcone's eyes like he saw in the numerous nights when Falcone stood by his son's bed, wanting to kill the monster. Perhaps Falcone had long gone mad.

In the back seat, Alberto sat with his head bowed in silence. He too had gone mad. He had faced his father's intense malice and hatred on countless such nights, until he plunged a knife into his father's chest himself.

Father Daniel, engaged in conversation with the Godfather, looked just as elderly, even older than Falcone. Under the stage lights, his white hair fluttered in the air, his eyes filled with serenity and peace.

But he too might have already been driven to madness. Any sane man would not believe a faith could rescue Gotham. Yet he embraced his duties as a priest here, he even became a good priest. But in Gotham, the better you are, the madder you become.

Police Commissioner Gordon too was the same, seemingly the most normal person in all of Gotham. But he was a cop, a true cop, a good cop who had a strong sense of justice and impenetrable faith. Such a man could appear anywhere in the world without seeming out of place, but he insisted on staying in Gotham, certifying his own madness.

As for the Professor... he was definitely insane.

Joker... well, he was mad as well.

Batman stood amidst these madmen, observing their frozen movements and expressions set in time on stage. And then the stage began to spin.

The faster the stage spun, the more the intertwining lights and shadows started to morph into a wild whirlpool. Batman stood at the center of this whirlpool, gradually being swallowed up.

He felt that he too had probably gone mad.

He was certain that he had maybe truly gone mad.

In the center of the spinning stage, Batman extended his palm. He held a crumpled piece of paper, his ticket and the clue he was to announce next.

Nevertheless, at that moment, when Batman unfolded it, he realized the paper was blank, void of any writing.