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🕑 Added 2025-06-01 16:10:08 +0000 UTCChapter 73: The Only Thing That Can Break Joker is ___
As the saying goes, the stranger the move, the faster you die. That second half? It can apply to yourself, or to your enemy.
At this moment, Joker felt pressure he'd never experienced before. He'd tangled with plenty of cold weapon experts in Gotham City – katanas, rapiers, Batarangs, staffs, twin blades, longswords, greatswords, even nunchaku. It had refined his close-combat style, making it more mature. While it was still the madman's game of trading blows, most of the time, that style actually gave him a certain ability to maneuver, even a chance to win.
But the way Cody used that single-handed long sword? He’d never seen anything like it.
Maybe Batman had? But Batman had never tried chopping him up with a longsword. Most of the time, he could just take Joker down with pure martial arts.
But Joker's face was still fixed in a grin.
"Heh heh heh! How come you're not afraid of pain now? It's okay, you can just scream if it hurts!"
Slash!
The dagger sliced through the cotton robe again, leaving a bone-deep wound on Cody's shoulder. But at the same time, the long sword in his hand jabbed and flicked, slicing away a large chunk of flesh from Joker's waist, taking the laughing gas belt right along with it.
Seeing this, Joker didn't dodge. With one hand, he swung the steel pipe at Cody's head again. Cody used a single-handed 'Cloud Sword' technique to deflect it, his left hand grabbing the hand holding the pipe. He lunged forward, his right hand following up, cutting off the breastpin on Joker's suit that could spray acid corrosive to the Bat-suit. A dagger was plunged into his back.
Amidst the splashing blood, they went back and forth. With the help of the 'fruit candy' (A healing item, perhaps?), Cody immediately used a wound-trading style to disable Joker's various sneaky gadgets. This strategy threw Joker into a dilemma he'd never faced before.
He was used to a no-holds-barred fighting style, making opponents hesitant and always appearing like a madman. Except for vital points, he basically wouldn't defend. But today, this very style had become his weakness. The guy opposite him had seriously strong recovery. The more wounds exchanged, the worse it was for him.
"Unfair! Unfair! Unfair!" he shrieked. "This isn't fun at all!"
Cody didn't plan to get distracted by answering Joker's questions for now. He kept his eyes locked on Joker's movements. After starting to duel with the longsword in hand, he already had the ability to maneuver and contend. His brain had also started to gradually adapt to the pain brought by sharp blades and steel pipe strikes. He couldn't be sure if this was an inherent effect of the Master-level Swordsmanship or if he just had a certain amount of combat talent himself, but he was indeed starting to become more and more at ease now.
Clang!
The hooked end of the pry bar got entangled with the longsword, unable to move. Joker, meanwhile, was maniacally laughing and swinging the dagger with his other hand again. However, Cody wasn't panicked. He knew his teammate had been waiting for just this kind of chance.
Sure enough, the very next second, Clinton, who had been searching for an opening the whole time, squeezed the trigger repeatedly. Gunshots rang out, bullets leaving the barrel. Three consecutive shots hit the hand holding the pry bar and Joker's shoulder with precise accuracy.
Cody followed up immediately, swinging his sword and slicing off his suit along with the gun holster. At this point, there were still five minutes left on the Master-level Swordsmanship experience time, but realistically, Joker had no chance of turning the tables.
His belt, loaded with laughing gas and playing cards, and his suit were gone, the breastpin was destroyed, his revolver was shot away. All he had left was the dagger and the pry bar in his hands. But Cody could call Grundy back into the fight. Even if the sword skill experience card ran out, the injured Joker wouldn't be able to get past two teammates to reach Cody.
But Cody didn't have Grundy join the fight immediately. The Master-level Swordsmanship experience time was too valuable. He wanted to fight for the full ten minutes, maybe even keep a part of it in his skill bar.
"Grundy! Get this Christmas tree out of here first! Don't let him detonate it manually!"
"Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday."
Grundy had been waiting outside for his friend's voice the whole time. As soon as Cody finished speaking, he leaped straight into the room, grabbed the Christmas tree, bombs and all, in his arms, and then leaped back out of the room.
"No! No no no! My Christmas tree! My fireworks Christmas tree!"
Joker gnashed his teeth, glaring at Cody, the smile vanishing from his face for now: "A shameless, boring, uninteresting Santa Claus with a gun ruined my whole Christmas! My fireworks! My Christmas presents!"
Their figures crossed paths. Joker took another sword strike to the back of his knee. At this moment, his stamina was starting to fail him.
"What in blazes are you talking about?" Cody replied. "I personally brought you a bucket of milk, a big reindeer, and even helped save your Christmas tree – you should be thanking me."
"Oh, I'll definitely find a chance to properly thank you later!"
The figures of Joker and Cody rapidly crisscrossed under the moonlight. The small knife and the longsword reflected the cold moonlight, bringing forth spatters of blood.
"You've never fought before, why go this far? Look at yourself, you were even sniffling just now!"
"Normal people sniffle. If someone's always smiling, they must never have been truly happy!"
Cody's swordsmanship became increasingly skilled. The precious sword in his hand gleamed like three feet of moonlight, almost blinding Joker.
"Ha! A boring Santa Claus actually thinks he understands an interesting madman!"
Joker's small knife became more frantic, his fighting style grew more aggressive, his desire to attack soaring.
Cody wielded the longsword. This was the peak of his close-combat ability. He parried Joker's attacks one by one, then seized an opening and thrust straight through the palm of his hand, knocking the small knife to the ground. Immediately following up with a flying kick, he sent it flying back into the room to prevent escape through the window – however, Joker didn't get up again, but lay on the ground giggling.
"Heh heh, heh heh heh, hee hee hee hee... So, if someone never laughs, it means they must never have been normal at all, right?"
Cody raised an eyebrow at hearing this, instantly realizing something. He subconsciously looked around. Sure enough, a low, hoarse voice suddenly sounded the next second. The black bat appeared from the night sky.
"You deliberately went to Maroni first, lured me there, and then came to Harvey's house to plant the bomb."
Cody asked from the side, "When did you get here?"
"Just got here – he led me to the Diamond District. Took a little time to get over here."
Cody let out a long breath. He watched the countdown for the Master-level Swordsmanship experience on the panel hit zero, finally collapsing onto the ground. "It's been a full twelve minutes from when I yelled out 'Joker' until now. Don't you think you should seriously reflect on that?"
"...You know I left other listening and tracking devices on you."
"Isn't that just your style? Why else would I have removed the signal jamming?"
At this moment, Joker off to the side seemed a bit... broken.
"Damn it, both of you shut up! -- That red-robed Santa Claus, don't let me find your ridiculous Christmas shack! Otherwise, I swear I'll blow you sky-high!"
Chapter 74: A Rare Peaceful Christmas
No matter what Joker was thinking, he was definitely heading back to Arkham Asylum for now.
Cody was a little worried about the threats Joker had made, but right now, he just didn't have the asset points needed to permanently deal with the guy. So, the best he could do was cut the tendons in his hands and feet. That should at least keep him contained for a while... maybe.
"I wouldn't advise getting those hands or feet fixed," Cody warned Batman. "Otherwise, once he's healed up, he'll just bolt from the asylum again."
Batman didn't answer directly. Instead, he glanced at the sword in Cody's hand. "Your swordsmanship isn't bad."
"Just average, I guess," Cody replied, peeking at the "Intermediate Swordsmanship Mastery" that had just popped up in his skill list. He turned back. "Sticking around this long was mostly thanks to my stubborn life force... and having some pretty awesome friends."
"How did you end up at Harvey's place?" Batman asked.
"He sent me a letter, invited me to stay. Even rented me a little cottage," Cody explained. "I was thrilled! I had something else to do tomorrow, so I just came straight over today. But he wasn't home, and the lock was jimmied."
"...After this mess, you'll have to come back in a few days," Batman said, pausing. He surveyed the wrecked room – the collapsed wall, the huge hole in the window. Then he added, "Or maybe don't bother coming back at all."
Cody just shrugged.
Batman stopped talking to Cody and walked over to Joker on the floor, grabbing him by the hair and lifting him up.
"Why did you come to Harvey's house to do this?" Batman demanded.
"Ha! Why wouldn't I?" Joker cackled. "If I found a couple of unregistered .22s here, or maybe a Halloween decoration or two, I'd just kill him! Turn Gotham's twisted killer back into one!"
"Harvey Dent isn't the Holiday Killer."
"Hehehehe, isn't he, now?"
"Uh, no," Cody chimed in, shaking his head. "Isn't the real point that Gotham already has more than enough twisted killers? Even if you subtract the Holiday Killer, you've still got a whole mess of psychos locked up in Arkham."
The atmosphere went dead quiet. Batman stared at Cody, Cody looked at Joker, and Joker stared back at Batman.
"What? I'm not wrong," Cody said, spreading his hands. "Unless he plans to take all those 'talents' from Arkham and just..."
"Enough chitchat," Batman cut him off immediately. He was seriously worried Joker was listening to Cody. "I'm taking him back to Arkham Asylum."
Batman hoisted Joker over his shoulder and vanished into the night. Cody sighed, looking at the mangled house.
"First things first, let's see how many points I've got left."
The system promptly popped up its panel.
Asset Points: $18,327
Skills: Beginner Driving Mastery, Beginner Firearm Usage Mastery, Intermediate English Mastery (leveled up from talking so much!), Intermediate Stealth Mastery, Intermediate Tracking Mastery, Intermediate Lockpicking Mastery, Intermediate Swordsmanship Mastery, Advanced Wheelchair Driving Mastery, Advanced Cooking Mastery
Items: Ghost Fire Wheelchair, Undying Pumpkin Lantern, Sanity-Dropping Pumpkin Mask, Cornucopia, Eight-Faced Han Sword, Hacker Duo Set, Bugging Lighter
"Still got eighteen thousand. Should be enough... system, can you fix this place up?"
"Initiating Cleanup and Restoration Service... Calculating cost... Estimated cost: 3,000 asset points. Confirm?"
Honestly, that price was within Cody's expectations.
"Confirm."
"Keep the Christmas tree?"
"Hmm... yeah, you can keep that. But swap out the apple bombs for normal Christmas decorations and presents."
"Request adjusted. Estimated cost: 2,300 points. Beginning cleanup and restoration."
"Sweet!"
Right before Cody's eyes, the damaged house began to repair and restore itself. The scattered dirt, stones, and bricks on the ground vanished one by one. The bullet holes in the walls disappeared like an illusion. Broken walls were patched up and looked brand new. Shattered windows got their glass back. In just a few seconds, there was no trace of the battle left in the house.
"Gotta say, this function would probably be amazing for just cleaning up, too."
Cody tossed his blood-stained cotton jacket, Santa hat, and boots into the system, spent five asset points to clean himself up, then bought and put on a new Christmas outfit. Finally, he bundled up the Christmas tree to take with him.
After he'd sent Solomon and Clinton back, the system's notification finally rang out.
"A Little Light on Christmas Day" Status: Completed (1/1) Rewards Issued
Basic Rewards: Snowman Crystal Ball Music Box, Harvey Dent's Friendship, Intermediate Physical Enhancement, Unlock Save Point Relocation Feature
At that exact moment, Cody's physical enhancement began.
"Whoa! Ow ow ow ow OW!"
Intense pain surged from all over his body. The Intermediate Physical Enhancement was rapidly upgrading his physique, but it brought with it agony comparable to fighting Joker just now, maybe even more detailed. This was a piercing pain from every organ, every limb, every single cell.
"Why didn't you warn me it would hurt this much?!"
"Next time for sure," the system coolly replied.
Cody didn't have the strength to protest anymore. He was pouring all his effort into keeping his sanity intact until, three minutes later, the internal pain gradually faded. In its place was a dramatic change in his physical condition.
Defined muscle groups, a sturdy build, powerful limbs, faster reflexes, and more sensitive senses. At this moment, Cody felt terrifyingly strong.
"Alright, retreat, retreat. I can finally get a good night's sleep tonight."
The next morning, Harvey Dent was woken by Gilda's gasp.
"Oh my god, dear, come downstairs!"
He rushed down, wondering what was wrong, until he saw Gilda by the front door, a delivery person, and a beautiful Christmas tree.
"Huh? Is this... a gift for us?"
"Yes! And there's a letter with it."
Harvey took the envelope from his wife's hand and opened it. Inside was a notecard.
"To Harvey Dent,
Since my house burned down, I have been without a place to stay. Living in a hotel is not a long-term solution. Receiving Mr. Dent's letter yesterday, offering me a place of refuge, fills me with inexpressible gratitude.
Deep appreciation often goes unspoken, but by chance, someone gifted me a Christmas tree yesterday. I had no use for it, so I simply decorated it and re-gifted it to Mr. Dent as a small token of my thanks.
I must spend Christmas Day with my children, and therefore, I am afraid I will be unable to attend your dinner tomorrow. My sincerest apologies. If time allows, perhaps we can gather again another time.
Your eternal friend,
Cody"
...
And so, this year, Christmas Day in Gotham City was, for once, a peaceful and quiet one.
Chapter 75: Undercurrents Surging
The snow in Gotham? Man, it felt like it would never stop. Since December rolled around, it's just been one blizzard after another, a solid month of it, and no sign of a break.
December 31st. The sun had already called it a night. The District Attorney's office was still lit up, the light spilling out the windows lit up the snowflakes outside, and the figure hunched over his desk inside.
"Harvey, Harvey," he mumbled to himself, "if you had half a brain, you'd be home with Gilda right now..."
But even as he muttered that, District Attorney Harvey Dent's backside seemed glued to his chair. He was poring over the case files and reports, looking like he had no intention of leaving anytime soon.
Just then, the office door creaked open. A young blond guy, dressed in a white shirt and black suspenders, poked his head in. He looked kinda young, maybe early twenties, with those round, studious glasses, and seemed a little nervous.
"Mr. Dent... Sir," he stammered, "I hope—I'm not disturbing you?"
"Working late again? Vernon, all this extra work isn't going to get you a promotion."
"But... you're working late too, sir. You've been working this late every night since I started at the DA's office a week ago."
Truth is, Harvey's schedule was way better than it used to be. He used to get home in the dead of night. But ever since Gilda started talking about having a kid, he'd made an effort to leave earlier. Maybe the new place would help them both turn a page, a fresh start?
He was still clocking in an extra hour or two after everyone else primarily because, well, Gotham. Too much crime. And tonight was rougher than usual because it was New Year's Eve – time for those delightful year-end reviews. Plus, yeah, he was trying to sock away some extra cash for their future.
Even the city's two biggest crime families, Falcone and Maroni, locked in a constant struggle, were supposedly putting their beef aside tonight, New Year's Eve, to clink glasses and welcome the new year. If even they had hope for the future, who in Gotham didn't? People gotta have something to look forward to.
Harvey listened to the kid, then got right up from his chair, clicked off the lamp, and shrugged on his trench coat. "See, Vernon," he said, "that's what I'm talking about. You gotta look at everything from two sides."
Talk about leading by example.
Switching gears to 'off duty', Harvey headed for the door, giving Vernon a friendly pat on the shoulder. He grinned. "It's New Year's Eve, kid. Time to get home, be with your wife, and hope next year is better than this one."
Harvey, the city's 'White Knight,' genuinely thought this kid had potential. A fresh Assistant DA, not yet stained by the grime of this city, steering clear of the slimy deals between coworkers and the mobs; he worked hard, staying just as late as Harvey himself every night. It all reminded Harvey of himself when he first arrived in Gotham.
Sure, Vernon might not last in this city, but then again, he might. Harvey Dent himself was just a regular Assistant DA once, right? That's why Harvey always held out hope for the new faces. They could all be the next 'White Knight' for Gotham, the one after that.
"Uh, yeah, sir," Vernon hesitated. "But there's... something here—about the Roman case—I was going through some old police reports, and I found..."
"I'm pretty sure those reports can wait until next year, Vernon." Harvey waved him off, already hitting the elevator button.
But this time, Vernon didn't just nod and back down like usual.
"Sir, this is important," he said, voice steady now. "I found a connection, a link—between 'The Roman' Falcone and... the billionaire, Bruce Wayne."
Harvey's foot, already halfway into the elevator car, froze.
"Sorry, sir," Vernon said, holding out the report. "I know it's late, but I thought you should be the first to see this..."
Vernon trailed off, realizing Harvey was just staring at the report, miles away, not really hearing him. He said softly, "Sir?"
"Actually, it should be the second."
Harvey Dent stared at the report for a long moment, a thoughtful, heavy look on his face. Then he sighed. "Unlucky, isn't it," he murmured. "Bruce Wayne looks like he's been ahead of us on this for a while now."
Later. A snowy night at Gotham Harbor.
"Happy New Year, Salvatore."
A strong hand, heavy with an expensive gold watch, effortlessly twisted the top, popping the cork with practiced ease.
Carmine 'The Roman' Falcone held a pricey bottle of champagne, pouring a glass for Salvatore Maroni. Maroni, the poor sap, claimed he'd injured his right arm sparring over Christmas and could only use his left hand. So he just stood there, holding his glass out with his left hand while the Roman poured for him.
Falcone still didn't quite get why Maroni decided sparring was a good idea back then.
Maroni watched the glass fill with the golden bubbly, but there wasn't much cheer on his face. "Carmine," he said, "we've been at this a long time, and you always manage to come out on top."
"But... if we don't figure out how to handle this 'Holiday Killer'... this New Year's is gonna be our last."
"Maroni, I know. And I appreciate the concern. It really warms the heart, truly."
The Godfather's hand was steady as a rock. Still talking, he poured himself a glass. "And I've been thinking, thinking about the 'Holiday Killer'—that's what the papers are calling him."
"Or 'her'," Maroni cut in.
"Whatever," The Roman's eyes narrowed. He took a sip of champagne, his gaze pinning Maroni, sharp and dangerous. "All I know right now is, this sick bastard likes picking off my people, ruining my operations. And your side... well, doesn't seem to have bled nearly as much. Not on the surface, anyway."
Maroni clutched his glass, his face going pale. "Falcone," he hissed, "what are you saying?"
But the Godfather didn't answer. He just turned and walked away into the crowd, leaving Maroni with nothing but his back... and a New Year's farewell.
"Happy New Year, Sal. You're right."
"This really could be your last year..."
