Chapter 54 Happy April Fool's Day

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“Thank you for saving our lives…”

“Which church are you a priest from? I’ll be sure to visit and thank you properly.”

“Thanks to you, we would have been finished otherwise.”

Everyone thanked Roland in turn, and he nodded politely to each of them. Then he suddenly grabbed a man who was trying to sneak away.

“If I remember correctly, didn’t you just say you’d give me half your fortune?” Roland reminded him.

“I…” The man was instantly at a loss for words. “I was only saying it… You didn’t take the others’ money. You can’t extort me, can you?”

“What? You were only saying it?”

Roland seized the man by the face with one hand and slammed him to the ground, crushing his glasses beneath him.

“Please… please spare me.” The terrified man wept openly and begged in a servile voice. “I’ll give you all my money. Please, show mercy and let me go.”

Roland gripped him by the collar with one hand and cupped the other around his ear. “What? What are you saying, you bastard? My hearing isn’t very good. I can’t hear a thing.”

“Spare my life… Please spare my life… I won’t do it again…”

“Where’s the money?”

“I’ll give it to you right away…”

The man pulled out a check, wrote down an amount, and handed it to Roland.

“This isn’t a bad check, is it?” Roland asked suspiciously. “Come on, we’re going to the bank. If it’s fake, you’re dead.”

“Waaah…”

Before long, Roland had withdrawn three million dollars from the bank. The money filled a case and weighed more than seventy pounds.

“Thanks,” Roland said, patting the man on the shoulder. “If you run into danger again, I’ll save you then, too.”

“It’s the least I could do… my benefactor…”

“Why the funeral face? Give me a smile,” Roland said, displeased. “Anyone who didn’t know better would think I extorted this money from you.”

“Right…”

After leaving the bank, Roland tossed the case of money beside Harley and continued driving.

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“Did you rob a bank?” Harley had already woken up. Staring at the case of money, she looked utterly dumbfounded.

“No. I merely helped someone. This is a thank-you gift.”

At a cigar shop on the corner, Roland bought several boxes of Montecristo cigars, the most popular Havana cigars in the world and the largest cigar export from Cuba.

He lit two cigars at once and pursued the trail of green gas ahead.

His recent test had shown that laughing gas had little effect on him, so Roland simply threw away the gas mask and breathed in the fierce, spicy smoke of the cigars.

“Why are you chasing the Joker?” Harley asked, puzzled. “You aren’t like Batman and the others. Why risk your life to oppose the Joker?”

“Oh? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“…I think you’re actually a little like the Joker.” Harley thought for a moment. “Your ideas are both very strange… or perhaps I should say, wildly imaginative.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. I don’t want to end up in Arkham.” Roland rolled his eyes as the motorcycle roared forward. “What about you? Are you planning to stay in Arkham?”

“That depends on whether you can bear to send me there.” Harley answered playfully.

“If you were a normal person, why would I send you there? The problem is that you…” Roland’s mouth twitched. “Why are you so hung up on your Joker? He doesn’t even like you.”

“How could Pudding not love me? Don’t say things like that. Otherwise, when he comes to rescue me, he’ll blast your head open, and then the two of us will have wild sex on top of your corpse…”

“Am I part of your little fantasy too? That’s seriously twisted.”

Roland squeezed the brakes hard. He had arrived at a plaza that had been transformed into a gathering place for madmen.

Green smoke filled the air. Countless citizens were packed together, making strange, dance-like movements as manic laughter rang out without end.

Batman was bound to a gigantic cross in the center of the plaza, posed like Jesus during the Crucifixion.

“Hey, do you know the difference between the Jesus in a painting and the one on the cross?” the Joker asked with a loud laugh.

“That’s easy. The Jesus in a painting only needs one nail.”

Roland dismounted his motorcycle.

“Oh, damn your sense of humor! You priest really belong in hell!” The Joker’s face darkened. He had not expected Roland to steal the hellish punch line he had thought of.

Batman, still dressed as Jesus, could not help rolling his eyes at Roland. Did this man have even the slightest reverence for his Lord?

“Heh-heh… You didn’t dress him up like this just for me, did you?” Roland asked.

“Hmph… You merely gave me the inspiration to kill Batman. Don’t flatter yourself.” The Joker grabbed a laughing man and began dancing with him. “You’re just like the rest of them. You came to watch my performance.”

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“All right, now you can laugh!”

Green gas erupted from beneath Roland’s feet and enveloped him.

“A performance?” Roland shook his head and looked at the people laughing hysterically. “Honestly, I don’t see what’s so funny. All I see is a clown who can only make people laugh with laughing gas—and who’s actually proud of it.”

“What did you say?”

The Joker’s smile vanished, replaced by a solemn and terrifying expression.

“I said that as a comedian, you’re absolutely awful.” Roland gave him a mocking smile. “You’re like an impotent husband who needs a sex machine to satisfy his wife, then still has to ask her whether she enjoyed herself.”

“Mm…”

Batman’s eyes lit up. He seemed to have discovered a way to push the Joker over the edge.

“I’ve decided not to let you watch me execute Batman. You can die first!”

The Joker pressed a button, and the people around him surged toward Roland like a flood.

They felt no pain and feared no death. Poisonous gas poured from their bodies. They were the ones who had captured Batman moments earlier.

“Surely you don’t think a bunch of ordinary people can handle me.”

Roland charged straight into the crowd like a tank. Every move of his Bajiquan subdued another person, leaving them unable to rise again.

Batman’s eyelid twitched. Roland had not killed anyone, but several hospitals in Gotham would probably be overflowing by the end of the day.

“Ha.”

After roughly six minutes, Roland dealt with the last attacker and stood before the Joker.

“What else have you got? Hurry up and use it!”

“Then trade blows with him.”

The Joker called out one of his towering henchmen.

Roland slapped him across the face, knocking off the man’s clown mask. Beneath it was not a human face, but a sheet of metal.

“A robot?”

Roland felt a slight numbness in his hand.

The robot charged forward. Its arms extended and wrapped around Roland, binding him tight.

“Pointless. Hah!”

Roland exerted his strength, violently shaking off the mechanical arms that held him.

“What the hell was that?” Batman stared in surprise. He had seen Bajiquan before. Was there a move like that in it?

“That move is called the Mother Tree Smash!” Roland explained.