บท 97: Chapter 97 (edited)
Even Kara had to admit there were indeed fallacies in the Joker's words, but it couldn't be said that he was entirely wrong.
For example, Batman. Batman emerged because Gotham City was rotting to its core, and only extreme measures seemed capable of addressing it. But Batman's very existence was unlawful from the start. If there hadn't been criminals and gangsters, Batman would have been hunted down by the police. He wouldn't even have had the time to fight crime.
"Did evil breed justice, or did justice inspire evil? Did criminals create heroes, or did heroes create us criminals?" Joker asked Kara.
Kara sighed and stood up. "Alright, I'm not here to debate philosophy with you, and I'm not losing my mind." She didn't understand the thoughts or logic of psychopaths like him.
She didn't want to be Harley Quinn.
Kara decisively cut the conversation short, interrupting Joker's ramblings. "I have one purpose for being here, and that is to make you completely forget about me and Oracle."
She couldn't ignore that the Joker held a critical secret about her, but this time, she already had a solution. She'd thought of it during the last parade incident, though at the time, she had been outmaneuvered by Joker. This time, she was determined to resolve the issue for good.
"Then you'll have to open up my skull and take it out," Joker said, his tone maniacal.
Kara shrugged. "That won't be necessary. Just look into my eyes."
She removed the glasses she usually wore to conceal herself. Her striking blue eyes radiated a mysterious light. Kara was activating her super hypnotic ability. With psychological suggestion and hypnotism, she planned to make Joker forget her identity entirely.
"Tell me," Kara said, leaning in, "besides you, who else among your people knows my identity? Do you have any contingencies?"
Joker's manic demeanor suddenly turned blank. His voice was hollow as he answered Kara's questions without resistance. "Only I know that you and Bruce are Oracle and Batman. The others are just gang members I hired; they're not trustworthy at all."
Kara nodded. That aligned with her expectations. Otherwise, those gang bosses would have already made a move.
"As for backup plans," Joker continued, "I don't make detailed plans. My schemes are all improvised. No meticulous steps, just a general framework that even I don't fully understand."
Hearing this, Kara was simultaneously amazed and unsettled. Joker's ability to turn improvisation into chaos was terrifying. His unpredictability made him truly dangerous. Even without a solid plan, he managed to wreak havoc with unnerving precision.
She didn't want to listen to his ramblings any longer. Instead, she planted a psychological suggestion in his mind: "Forget it. Forget everything about Kara Kent, Oracle, and Batman. Forget Bruce Wayne's identity as well."
But that was all she erased. Kara deliberately left Joker's other memories intact. She didn't care why he had become so deranged. Maybe he had endured a miserable childhood or a traumatic life, but that didn't justify the evil he unleashed on others.
Countless people had suffered hardships worse than his, yet they hadn't become Jokers. Most of the world struggled in one way or another, but their struggles didn't give them an excuse to harm others. Kara wasn't about to absolve the Joker of his crimes because of his pain.
When Joker snapped out of his trance, he looked around, bewildered. His expression grew troubled as he tried to piece together the gaps in his memory. Something was missing—something precious—but he couldn't recall what. Or who.
It felt as if there had been someone he had feelings for, someone he admired, but was that even possible for a lunatic like him?
Meanwhile, Kara left Joker's ward with a chair in tow, returning it to the guard at the exit before making her way out. She wasn't dressed as Oracle this time; Bruce had arranged the opportunity for her, ensuring the visit was smooth and discreet.
Inside the elevator, Kara stood alone. The prison was deep underground, designed to prevent escape. No cameras monitored the interior.
Kara raised her hand to her mouth, covering her face as her shoulders started to shake. Then, she couldn't hold it in any longer. She burst into laughter—a clear, sweet laugh that echoed in the confined space.
What was she laughing at?
No one could say. If Joker had been there, maybe he would've guessed.
It was a laugh laced with irony, self-deprecation, and contempt. The more she laughed, the harder it was to stop until her stomach ached and tears rolled down her cheeks.
She had almost been swayed by a lunatic. Twice. And worse, part of her couldn't completely dismiss his words.
It was absurd. And yet, it felt so true.
Kara's tears weren't entirely from laughter. They carried a hint of sadness.
"What even is a superhero?" Kara whispered to herself. Joker had posed a question that lingered in her mind. Who made who? Did justice inspire evil, or did evil create justice?
No. Even without Batman, Joker would have existed. He had always been there, lying in wait, drawn to Batman only after learning about his existence.
So it wasn't accurate to say Batman created Joker.
But Kara knew one thing: as long as Joker existed, Batman had a reason to stay. If Joker were gone, Gotham's elite would likely demand Batman retire as well.
Shaking her head, Kara wiped the tears from her face. "How ridiculous," she muttered.
She put her laughter away, straightened her posture, and exited the elevator without a backward glance.
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