Chapter 259: I, the Joker (Part 2)

Dr. Rodriguez! Please, have mercy! Your friend has called the office over sixty times this week—the receptionist is about to go insane…

Mrs. Miller! Please, have mercy too! My friend has come for treatment ten times this week—I'm about to go insane too…' Siegel stood by his desk, pressing his forehead as he spoke to Mrs. Miller.

Mrs. Miller sighed and said, 'Then why can't you just refuse him?'

'I want to refuse him, but he's a psychiatric patient.'

'So what?' Mrs. Miller stared at Siegel, who paused, startled by her tone, then said, '…Isn't this a psychiatric hospital?'

Mrs. Miller also froze, then looked down and muttered, 'Oh, right—we are a psychiatric hospital. Then why can't he be admitted?'

'Good heavens, his daily commute is already unbearable—if he were hospitalized…'

'Didn't he used to be hospitalized? I remember seeing him in the inpatient ward.'

'This time it's different. Before, he was just a lunatic. Now, he's a drunk lunatic.'

Siegel sighed deeply, signaled Mrs. Miller to wait a moment, then walked to his desk, picked up the phone, and asked Brand: 'Didn't you say a new attending physician was coming last week? Where is he?'

'…What? He only submitted a resume… It got rejected? Why? Alright, I'll call him and find out.'

Siegel hung up, then dialed again, lifted the receiver, and said into it: 'Hello? Bruce, did someone apply for the attending physician position at Arkham Psychiatric Hospital? Was the application sent to you?'

Bruce fell silent for a moment, then replied: 'The Wayne family does hold shares in Arkham Psychiatric Hospital. After receiving the job application, I directly rejected it…'

'Why did you reject it?'

Bruce fell silent again. He didn't understand Siegel's attitude. There was only one attending physician position. Someone applying for it wasn't trying to steal your job?

'…Alright, Bruce, I know you mean well, but it's completely unnecessary. I'm a university professor. I'm serving as attending physician here only because Brand is overwhelmed. I'd be thrilled to have a new doctor brought in…'

'Really?' Bruce was skeptical. After all, Siegel had always seemed to enjoy the job.

Siegel held the receiver firmly and said, 'If you think I have any passion for this job, you're delusional. Right now, I just want to leave this place…'

'Alright, then I…'

Before Bruce could finish, Siegel hung up—the sound of wild, manic laughter had reached his ears again.

Seeing Jack clumsily climbing in through the balcony, Siegel shoved Mrs. Miller out first, shut the door, pulled the curtains shut, then walked to the balcony. Jack waved at him as he approached: 'Good morning, my friend!'

At that moment, he was halfway through the window—one leg inside, the other still on the adjacent balcony. Siegel crossed his arms and said, 'Do you know what I want to do?'

'What? Punch me? Hey! Wait—you can't do that! Haven't we been having great conversations lately? My friend! Where did we leave off yesterday… Oh, Baroque art style. Are you free this afternoon? My noodles are rising in my stomach. What did you eat for lunch today? The patterns in naturalistic decoration remind me of bats… Bats! Bats? '

Siegel took a deep breath and silently recited to himself: 'I am a doctor. I am a doctor. Doctors do not hit their patients…'

This situation began that night, when Siegel and the Joker had gotten drunk together.

Whether it was Siegel or the Joker, alcohol had little effect on their brains. No matter how strong the liquor or how much they drank, neither would suffer any ill effects—but that was just ordinary alcohol.

Siegel had previously noticed a problem: the concentrated fear toxin, the high-purity brain-activating agent extracted from fear toxin, the lizard serum injection, and the purified version of the immortality factor—all existed in liquid form. This led him to a bold idea, which he realized with Conners' help.

He had Conners mix all these liquids together.

He called it 'Madness Wine.'

It combined all the effects of these agents, absorbing their strengths and compensating for their weaknesses. It transformed the fear induced by the fear toxin into exhilaration and madness—madness so intense it caused physical brain lesions. Yet, because of the lizard serum, the brain continuously repaired itself.

For an ordinary person, consuming this substance would be the most horrific torture imaginable: though physically unharmed, the brain simulated every sensation. But for certain people, it was an exquisite, potent liquor.

Siegel had always wanted to drink it, but feared becoming intoxicated. So he recruited a drinking partner—Jack. That night, the two finished an entire bottle.

It turned out Siegel had better stamina—or rather, the Gray Mist did. After all, he was a veteran drinker.

Siegel had been ecstatic while drinking, but woke up fine the next morning. Jack had been ecstatic too—but he didn't recover. Without a symbiote to absorb the madness and exhilaration, he was now overstimulated.

Logically, a manic Joker seeking someone should target Batman. But unfortunately, Batman was investing in Catwoman's movie and had left Gotham for a trip with her.

So Siegel reaped what he sowed.

Jack had no interest in anyone except Batman—but 'no interest' came in degrees. Clearly, he felt Siegel shared his worldview, so he dragged him into long monologues daily, scheduling over ten therapy appointments a week—not just daily visits, but morning and afternoon sessions, always running into each other.

Siegel, with his conscience intact, admitted Jack was a decent drinking companion—and even a decent conversationalist. He didn't know where Jack's vast knowledge came from, but discussing such topics held some appeal. After all, it was a form of slacking off during work hours.

The only problem? Jack dragged every topic back to Batman.

He was like a hyper-knowledgeable, hyper-intelligent, hyper-chatty… stalker.

Siegel had zero interest in Batman. He was truly driven to despair by the Joker.

But Jack felt neither affection nor aversion toward anyone except Batman—he simply ignored them. So despite his constant comings and goings, he hadn't damaged the hospital's environment. Thus, Siegel had no legitimate reason to expel him.

Since he couldn't expel Jack, he'd expel himself.

Siegel took the resume from Brand and asked, 'How's your future colleague? The one applying to work at Gotham's psychiatric hospital? His resume must be astonishing, right?'

'How astonishing could he be compared to you?' Brand retorted, then stroked his chin and hesitated: 'His credentials are decent, but…'

'What?'

'I heard some… unfavorable rumors about him from previous colleagues…'

'Unfavorable rumors? What kind?'

'He came to Gotham because…' Brand hesitated, unsure how to phrase it, but continued: 'He was conducting unauthorized human experiments at his previous university.'

'Human experiments? Interesting…'

Siegel glanced at the resume in his hand. As expected, the name written on it was—'Hugo Strange.'

Hugo Strange's resume was indeed impressive, though nowhere near Siegel's level. His education and work history were merely average—even below the Strange from another world. He wasn't yet a world-class authority.

Perhaps the timeline was simply too early; Hugo hadn't yet reached his peak in his field.

As Siegel studied Hugo's resume, Hugo was studying Siegel's.

On the train to Gotham, Hugo read the Gotham Daily while scanning a news article about an old case in Metropolis. He didn't recognize most of the people involved—but one figure felt familiar: Siegel Rodriguez.

It was impossible Hugo had never heard of Siegel. Among the world's top psychologists, there were only a handful. As a professional, Hugo knew him well.

His decision to come to Gotham was twofold: first, after his unauthorized experiments were exposed, he'd made an enemy and needed to flee; second, he wanted to meet Siegel.

Since ancient times, professional rivalry and scholarly disdain have been common. Hugo considered himself a genius in psychology and psychiatry, with original theories in both fields. But opportunities to refine them had been scarce—until his experiments were discovered.

His former city and university could never tolerate such behavior. But he knew one place might: Gotham.

Here was the ideal experimental environment—and the person he wanted to meet. So he submitted his application.

He'd assumed his chances were slim. To displace Siegel with his current credentials was unlikely. But shortly after submitting his resume, Arkham Psychiatric Hospital called him—enthusiastically inviting him to join.

Thus, Hugo Strange arrived at the attending physician's office—and received Siegel's warm welcome.

Siegel gripped Hugo's hand firmly: 'Thank heaven, you've finally arrived.'

'Uh…' Hugo was taken aback. He didn't understand Siegel's tone. They'd never met, and given their statuses, Siegel had no reason to be so effusive.

During their conversation, Siegel was blunt: 'There are too many difficult patients here. In my entire career, I never imagined I'd encounter cases I couldn't treat—but it's true…'

'Dr. Strange, I know you may feel your credentials are lacking, but don't worry. This place has countless rare cases—some even I can't touch.'

Siegel's behavior made Hugo think he was a negligent doctor desperate to offload hard cases. His impression of Siegel dipped. He replied dryly: 'Yes, Dr. Rodriguez. I've long struggled for suitable experimental subjects. I'm deeply interested in unusual cases. If that's the case, then this is perfect…'

Siegel detected Hugo's arrogance and sensed he viewed Siegel as a fraud—a publicity-seeking academic. Yet Siegel still smiled, shaking Hugo's hand: 'Then you're undoubtedly the perfect doctor for this position… Well then, I'll be leaving now.'

Watching Siegel grab his belongings and flee, Hugo stared after him, puzzled.

What could make this world-renowned psychological master run faster than a man chased by dogs?

————EXTRA NOTES————

Siegel: The Joker is me (climbing stairs—do not disturb…)

Jack: The Joker is me (Batman's honeymoon didn't include me!)

Hugo: The Joker is me (?!)

Batman, returned from his trip: What the hell happened?