Chapter 185: Smile (Part 2)

He saw the scattered, crumpled paper balls at Alberto's feet; they were no different from the ticket in his hand—just a mess of press releases and scraps torn from blank paper.

Since when had he truly believed this thing was a ticket? Since when had he thought there would really be clues on it?

Was it when Schiller insisted he drive the Batmobile to the TV station mailbox to buy tickets? Was it when they actually ran to the theater's ticket gate to check in? Or was it when both Schiller and Alberto looked at him with solemn conviction and recited clue after clue?

Batman suddenly understood; these were not the most important reasons. The root cause was his arrogance.

He had always harbored the thought that while everyone else was drunk, he alone was sober. He felt the madman on stage was no different from the crowd on the street. He disdained to understand him, disdained to invest, and thus never participated from start to finish.

So he had been played.

There were no clues from start to finish; this was merely a group of madmen executing a bunch of fools.

"Do you know what this means?" Schiller stood up, propped his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, and asked Batman.

"It means the joke from before was truly funny."

Schiller turned, took the popcorn bucket from Alberto's hand, grabbed the paper balls inside, and tossed them into the air. He said, "See? This is 'money'."

"... This is what they pursued. Isn't that funny?"

The clown on stage stared straight at Batman. Suddenly, he lowered his head, letting his green hair cover his eyes. He asked Batman, "Do you really not want to laugh at all?"

"Enough." Batman leaped onto the stage.

"The farce must end." His voice carried irritation.

"Before coming here, I pulled up all the historical data on the Gotham Grand Theater, including the construction blueprints."

"And in the few minutes just now, I finished reading them all."

Speaking, Batman turned his gaze to the center of the stage. He said, "The person who built this theater was a former European noble. To prevent the actors' footsteps from being too loud and affecting the dramatic performance, they did not use the hollow wooden stage common in American opera houses, but a solid stage crafted from complete rock. Your footsteps earlier proved this."

"From the moment you issued the announcement until now, without using explosives, there was not enough time for you to dig a hollow in such a stage and then bury bombs."

The clown stared at Batman. Suddenly, he asked irritably, "Why haven't you understood yet? This isn't a detective drama! You fool!"

"Never mind, you will understand, you will..."

He twisted his neck, then twisted his waist. Then he ripped off his tie and unbuttoned his suit jacket. His body was strapped full of bombs. As he undid the buttons, he said, "I told you we should have bought a size larger; this is really a bit tight."

"Oh, look, you were right! Great Detective Batman! The bombs are right here!"

"Look, there are so many!" The clown tucked his chin back and looked down, trying hard to see the bombs hanging on his waist.

"I'm about to detonate them! I'll blow you and this bunch of fools on the stage into the sky!"

The clown threw away the triangular iron in his hand, then pulled a pistol from his waist, pointing it at Batman and saying, "Don't think you can stop me!"

Batman stood opposite him. He hesitated not at all. Before the clown could make his next dangerous move, several Batarangs, cutting through the air with a whistling sound, flew to the space above the stage, severing the hemp ropes suspending those people. A group of them fell to the ground, emitting cries of pain from the impact.

Distracted by the sudden, high-pitched screams, the clown was attacked by Batman in an instant. Batman first kicked and snapped the joint of his arm, sending the pistol flying directly away, then punched him in the face, immediately choked his neck, pulled him backward to the ground, and dislocated his other arm.

The clown screamed as he fell to the ground. Batman squatted down, intending to remove the bombs from his body first. Just as he lowered his gaze to meet the clown's eyes, he saw a triumphant smile on the clown's face.

A scream suddenly erupted from the center of the stage. Fatty Haru clutched his throat and fell to the ground. A small iron rod, used for striking the triangular iron, was stuck in his neck.

The one who acted was another strong man. He grabbed Haru's neck, pulled out the small iron rod. In an instant, blood sprayed forth. Haru clutched his neck, fell to the ground, and lost his life. That man said, "You bunch of low-class nouveau riche! How dare you insult us? I..."

Before he could finish speaking, a gunshot "Bang!" rang out. Chelli held a pistol with trembling hands. He shouted viciously, "I've had enough of you! If you hadn't insisted on holding that party, how could we have suffered such a huge disgrace?!"

In an instant, two people died. All the court members began to frantically struggle free from the ropes binding them.

While they were suspended in the air, it seemed no matter how they struggled, it was useless. But once the ropes suspending them were cut, the section of hemp rope tied around them was not knotted. As the rope ends were severed, the bindings loosened. The strong ones broke free first.

The triangular iron thrown by the clown and the flying pistol had already been picked up. In the melee, everyone used whatever they could grab; some wielded broken bricks, others tore apart hemp ropes. Everyone's eyes were bloodshot, attacking each other like madmen.

But soon, they discovered the best location to seize weapons.

One person rushed quickly into the orchestra, wanting to pick up a music stand as a weapon. Another person rushed over to hit him. After one round of fighting, one of them grabbed a violin bow placed nearby, seized the other's opening, and choked his neck from behind.

He shouted, "It was you who just threatened me, making me comply with their demands so you could get the real answer! Die!!!"

He choked fiercely. Blood sprayed high into the air, shooting straight to the theater's ceiling like a crimson fountain, or like vines climbing a trellis.

Batman, who had just rushed over to stop it, was splashed all over with fresh blood. The intense smell of blood rushed to his brain, making him stagger for a moment.

Until the corpse opposite fell to the ground, the murderer suddenly panicked and knelt down. He said, "No! No... What have I done? But..."