Chapter 1: Arkham's Finest
Gotham—a city once shrouded in chaos and violence.
Thanks to the relentless efforts of Commissioner Gordon, the most talented criminals have been locked away in Blackgate Prison and Arkham Asylum one by one.
Yet, beneath the years of apparent peace, an even deeper darkness lurks, and madness brews within madness.
Behind the towering walls of Arkham Asylum reside criminals so notorious their names alone instill terror in Gotham's citizens.
Of course, Arkham Asylum is a well-known medical institution—not only does it house infamous lunatics, but it also treats psychiatric patients from all walks of life.
The Penguin, known as Gotham's little zebra and ruler of both the legal and underground worlds, has already "graduated" from Arkham and is now pursuing further studies in Blackgate Prison.
"I am the Dark Knight who walks in the shadows, the embodiment of fear for all criminals—Joker, Scarecrow, Riddler, Two-Face, and all other cruel perpetrators—I will watch over you forever."
At a cracked window ledge stood a man clad in a black cape and wearing a bat-shaped mask.
His gaze never wavered from the many criminals before him.
"Allen, it's time for your meds."
A plump African-American nurse, dressed in a tightly fitted uniform, approached while pushing a medicine cart, handing over the prescribed medication for the day.
With a righteous expression, Allen declared, "My beautiful lady, Nurse Catherine, you've mistaken me for someone else—I am the Dark Knight, Bateman."
"I must admit, talking to you is quite entertaining."
Catherine couldn't hide her delighted smile. Ever since childhood, people had mocked her for being overweight, even her own partner would sometimes use it to humiliate her.
But ever since she started working as a nurse in the fearsome Arkham Asylum and met Allen, she found herself smiling more often.
She knew full well that he was just a mentally ill patient, but she couldn't deny that his words were pleasant to hear.
"Allen, next time, don't steal curtains from the warden's office. There are plenty in the storage room—I left some for you on the first shelf, second row. Also, you tore up Warden Quincy's limited edition Playboy collection, and now he's furious. He might throw you into solitary confinement."
Catherine gave him a concerned warning—she didn't want the frail-looking Allen to get punished.
During her time working here, she had noticed that most patients displayed violent tendencies—except for Allen. He always played the role of a righteous hero and was surprisingly well-behaved.
"Thank you for your kind reminder. Your compassion shines like the stars in the night sky."
Allen clutched his curtain-made cape, draping it over his front, revealing only his eyes as he struck a signature Batman entrance pose.
The only problem? His bat mask's eye sockets happened to align perfectly with a red bikini print.
"You really know how to sweet-talk. Too bad I'm already married with kids."
"I don't mind having another daughter."
"I have a son."
Allen grinned mischievously, his meaning all too clear. Catherine, realizing his implication, blushed in both anger and embarrassment. "You little troublemaker—take your medicine."
"Ahhh."
"You're a grown man, and you still need someone to feed you?"
Catherine, now used to Allen's antics, stuffed the capsule into his mouth and quickly pushed her cart away, her face flushed red.
Once she was out of sight, Allen discreetly spat out the pill.
"I refuse to let anyone strip me of my right to be an idiot. No one."
Allen—full name, Allen Lun—was originally a VIP patient at Greenhill Rehabilitation Center. One day, while sneakily playing on his psychiatrist's computer, he got electrocuted due to a wiring accident and woke up to find himself in Arkham Asylum.
Naturally, he wasn't fazed in the slightest. After analyzing classic cases, refining his strategic mindset, and identifying the key breakthrough point, he arrived at one conclusion—if he could induce another electric shock, he could travel back to Blue Star. (TN: "Blue Star" is used in Chinese novels instead of "Earth" to bypass censorship. Just a reminder for those who might find it jarring.)
His goal for returning to Greenhill Rehabilitation Center was simple: erase the browsing history from his psychiatrist's computer.
As a man of principle, Allen firmly believed that spending even a single dollar on Japanese and Korean sites was an act of treason.
"Ah! Edward, when did you get behind me?!"
Startled like a young maiden, Allen instinctively clutched his chest and turned to see the Riddler, Edward Nygma.
"I challenge you once again—to a battle of wits!"
The Riddler clenched his fists, his expression serious, his voice raised in challenge.
Immediately, the other patients in the activity area turned their attention toward them, cheering and shouting for a duel.
The guards in the corridor didn't even bat an eye.
It was just another daily round of riddles and brain teasers—an event they actually found quite entertaining.
"Same rules as always."
"No problem."
The arena was set.
The patients sensibly fell silent.
A battle of intellect was about to unfold. In Arkham, every lunatic believed themselves to be a genius. Sometimes, bystanders would even raise their hands to answer.
"Ladies and gentlemen,"
With exaggerated gestures, Arthur took the stage. "I will be the referee and commentator for this match."
He gestured left, grandly introducing, "On my left, the Dark Knight—Bateman."
Booing erupted instantly.
Talking about justice in Arkham was as meaningless as a capitalist talking about charity.
Unfazed, Allen nodded graciously to the crowd.
"And on my right, Gotham's genius—Edward the Riddler!"
Applause.
Whistles.
Even some female patients exposed their shoulders, shouting their love for the Riddler.
Now that was more like it.
In Arkham, criminals were the real celebrities. A bunch of lunatics adored the Riddler, as he could easily toy with them.
"The duel begins. The loser asks first."
Arthur pointed to Edward, signaling him to present the first riddle.
Pushing up his glasses, Edward's expression grew serious.
"I guide you at night and return you by day. No one suffers from having me, yet all suffer from my absence. What am I?"
As soon as he posed the riddle, Edward was already basking in his own victory.
The spectators wracked their brains—some scratched their heads, some tugged at their hair, some pounded their skulls—poor CPUs overheating from the effort.
"I'm starting the countdown! 10… 9… 8…"
"Sleep."
Allen's deep, magnetic voice delivered the answer.
Silence fell.
All eyes turned to the Riddler, waiting for him to declare the answer incorrect.
"…You got it right."
Edward deflated, visibly disappointed that his carefully crafted riddle had failed.
"Allen, you're amazing! I'm giving you my first kiss!"
Poison Ivy, Lillian, took this chance to pucker her lips and lean in.
But Allen raised his fists defensively, his expression sincere. "My ex and my current girlfriend would be jealous. I can't guarantee they wouldn't react… Also, where did you even get a 'first kiss'?"
Yeah, no thanks. One kiss from Lillian meant instant death by poison. How would he get electrocuted and return to Greenhill if he died here?
"My turn. Listen carefully."
"A rare steak and a medium-well steak are cooking in the same pan—why aren't they talking?"
This was a trick question, not a traditional riddle. But hey, no one said trick questions weren't allowed.
"I protest! Steaks aren't people; they can't talk."
"I counter-protest! You're discriminating against steaks."
"Objection overruled."
Arthur grinned menacingly. "Anyone who objects again… I'll turn them into steak."
No one doubted his words.
Arkham's infamous butcher had spoken.
The room fell silent as they awaited Edward's answer.
Sweating nervously, Edward hesitated before finally replying, "Because… they aren't well-acquainted?"
"Congratulations! Correct answer."
Before the next riddle could begin, a sudden explosion rocked the asylum.
Joker's gang had arrived.
And with them, madness was set free.
"It's time to go home."
Allen, unable to find a single working outlet in the activity area, had been waiting for an opportunity.
But before leaving, he turned to Edward and said, "You lost. Her husband speaks English."
Edward froze, realization dawning, before he collapsed in despair.
As the halls echoed with his anguished wail, Allen disappeared into the chaos.
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