Before Chapter 11 Begins
After leaving the hospital, Joey returned to his damp and cramped apartment, a daze clouding his thoughts.
He collapsed onto the bed, pulling the quilt over himself, his body trembling.
"What do I do? What do I do?" he murmured, his voice desperate and weak. "The stolen money is gone. Do I rob again? Like him?"
He was trapped between his ailing mother and the risk of capture.
"If I try, I might get caught. But if I don't, Mom will…"
"I had no choice from the start…"
Realizing his desperation, Joey's eyes hardened. He was ready to follow the Joker's example.
Suddenly, his door swung open.
"Aiya, aiya! Looks like my lock-picking skills are still sharp," a voice drawled, both familiar and terrifying. "Long time no see, Joey! Are you cold? Why are you shivering?"
Despite the casual tone, the voice sent shivers down Joey's spine.
He threw off the quilt, his eyes widening. "Who are you?! Mr. Clown…"
"It's me, of course. Interested in working with me again? You'll be well compensated."
"Well? Are you in?"
Seeing the Joker's unsettling grin, Joey couldn't help but mirror it.
The Joker pulled him from the bed, his voice laced with manic energy. "Let's go!"
…
While the Joker recruited his team, Yang Xu immersed himself in training, absorbing the killer knowledge from "John Wick."
The bank explosion had faded from the public consciousness.
Aside from occasional spikes in reputation points, there was little news.
Even those directly affected would soon return to their routines.
After spending a significant sum at the gun range, mastering his new skills, Yang Xu received a text from the Joker:
"Dear Boss, we move tonight. We need you to distract the authorities!"
Yang Xu chuckled. "A boss taking orders from his subordinate? How amusing."
"But distracting them… that's doable."
"And I know just the target. It'll be a good test of their value."
He glanced at the television, where an advertisement for Tony Stark's midnight party played.
Meanwhile, Tony Stark, oblivious to Yang Xu's plans, was presiding over a board meeting.
Dressed in an expensive suit, sporting a neatly trimmed mustache, Tony stood at the head of the table.
"What's on the agenda today?" he asked, his tone nonchalant.
Before Pepper Potts could respond, a bald director, Obadiah Stane, spoke up. "Tony, the company's profits are declining."
"The military seems to be considering other suppliers. We're concerned about the stock price."
Tony's relaxed demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of annoyance. "Really? You called a meeting for this?"
"This is no small matter, Tony!" Stane insisted, standing and walking toward him. "We need to address this."
The other directors exchanged uneasy glances.
Director A: "Wasn't Stane supposed to be leading the charge against Tony? What's he doing?"
Director B: "I just came for the potential profits."
Director C: "This is a trap to force us to side with Stane."
Director D: "If they try, should we run?"
Director E: "Run where? Fake a stomachache?"
As the directors whispered, Tony was pleased by Stane's support.
Stane smiled back, projecting an image of solidarity.
The other directors remained silent, unsure of what to think.
Tony, believing he had them under control, spoke casually. "Don't worry. This is a minor issue."
"Our new weapon is nearly complete. I'll personally demonstrate its capabilities."
The directors, aware of Tony's reputation, looked up with interest.
Stane chimed in, "Tony, tell them about the weapon."
"They wouldn't understand," Tony scoffed. "Just know the blueprints are in production."
"The military will buy it, the stock price will rise, and your dividends will be safe. That's all they need to know."
Tony's bluntness momentarily embarrassed Stane.
The directors, however, were used to Tony's abrasive personality.
Tony, surprised by their acquiescence, wondered, "Why are they being so agreeable?"
Stane, seizing the opportunity, continued, "Tony, can I get the weapon's design specs?"
"I need to lobby the Defense Department. They have… influential opinions."
"Whatever. Pepper can give you access," Tony replied, dismissing the request.
"Good," Stane said, satisfied.
Tony, his train of thought interrupted, scanned the room, his expression shifting to playful mischief.
"I'm throwing a party tonight," he announced. "You're all invited. No pressure if you can't make it."