Mr. Wayne seemed to wake up a lot immediately, but still maintained a lazy tone: "Let me check the time-oh, my God, Mr. Warden, you look like you are in a hurry to find me?"
Zhang Dianyu replied: "Oh, no, I don't have anything special to ask for you. I just have some good news to inform you."
Wayne was silent for a while, and his tone with a smile was already a bit reluctant: "What's the matter?"
"About Gotham's mentally ill criminal clown—recently receiving reformation education in prison." Zhang Dianyu said word by word, "After half an hour, the prison is going to arrange for him to do volunteer work at the Olivia Comprehensive Recreation Center. labor order."
The sound of a sip of water being sprayed into the air instantly came from the receiver, and Zhang Dianyu took the phone away with a blank expression.
A few seconds later came the cough: "Yeah... sorry, I think I was drunk last night—Alfred, get me some hangover medicine."
"But you didn't—" a somewhat older English accent half-spoken, and suddenly changed his words solemnly, "I see, sir."
Zhang Dianyu: "..."
"Mr. Warden, on behalf of Gotham, I would like to thank you for your efforts—where did you say the clown was serving his labor? Olivia Recreation Center?" Mr. Wayne's voice came again.
Zhang Dianyu smiled: "Yes, Mr. Wayne, this is what I should do - if there is nothing else, I will not disturb you and continue to rest."
"Oh, I'm sorry..." Mr. Wayne's muffled voice came over, as if he was sleepy—or he was holding the phone in his mouth, and his hands needed to be used for other things, "I really I'd love to talk to you, Mr. Warden, but the hangover is giving me a terrible headache—oh, it's Alfred's medicine, so I'll hang up now."
"Then see you next time, Mr. Wayne." Zhang Dianyu replied with satisfaction.
After hanging up the phone, Zhang Dianyu was in a very happy mood.
But he ignored a question, and the anxious Mr. Wayne didn't—"Sir, are you sure?" Alfred asked with a serious face, and handed the tray to Mr. Wayne who was rushing to the Batcave in his nightgown , with a clean hot towel on top.
Wayne picked up a towel and wiped his face wearily: "Yes, Alfred, I have to rush over."
"But you can't," the old steward's words were not vehement, but pointed out a fact, "Even the batwing can't get you here in a short time from here to Los Angeles, I think you have to put this matter Inform your allies."
Mr. Wayne's footsteps paused: "Alfred, what do you mean—"
"-iron Man."
"—Superman."
Alfred: "... Your proposal also makes sense. But Mr. Superman is at work, sir, and I think Iron Man might be willing to watch the Joker instead of you."
"I don't want to." Wayne said crisply.
The secret door opened, and the indifferent voice of the computer came: "Password?"
"Iron Man sucks." Wayne replied.
Alfred: "…"
In the main hall of the Planetary Daily building, Kent, a reporter who once had a relationship with Zhang Dianyu, pressed the elevator door and greeted the passers-by by the way.
Then, his cell phone rang suddenly. He quickly took out the phone and took a look, but when he saw the name on it, he was slightly taken aback, and subconsciously looked around.
Generally speaking, his buddies didn't like calling him—he didn't like asking for help, to be exact.
He answered the phone with doubts: "Hey Bruce."
"Clark, are you free now?"
The elevator stopped with a "ding", Kent: "Uh..."
"Can I ask for leave?"
Kent walked into the elevator and couldn't help scratching his hair: "Bruce, actually... I don't think it's impossible, do you have anything?"
It is rare for a friend to ask him for help, so he decided to help.
The elevator reached the floor of the news department. Kent walked out of the elevator holding the phone, and saw his girlfriend and colleague Louise approaching. He just smiled and was pulled aside.
"Clark, Perry is looking for you, has your manuscript been handed in yet?"
"What?" Kent was startled. "You know I last night—"
"—very busy." Louise interrupted him very positively, with a wink at him. The head of editor-in-chief Perry White poked out from behind, "Kent!"
Kent: "..."
"Are you busy? Forget it," said the voice on the phone.
"No, Bruce, I'm not busy." Kent said immediately, turning his head to meet the editor's gaze, his face turned green, "I mean I'm busy..."
"..." The editor-in-chief glared at him, "Come to my office later, there are some details to discuss about this report."
Ken nodded, and the editor retracted his head.
There was a moment of silence on the phone, and Kent whispered, "Tell me, Bruce, I'm fine—trust me."
There was no sound from the receiver.
"Don't hang up!" Kent said.
"..." the person on the phone finally spoke, "The clown is at the Olivia Recreation Center in Los Angeles. I need you to check his movements for me."
Kent frowned slightly, but he was not very surprised: "He escaped from prison?"
"...not yet." The voice on the phone sounded a little tired, "Mr. Warden said that he was sent to the playground to do volunteer work, and I need to ensure the safety of the people nearby."
Kent: "..."
For a moment, he didn't know how to respond.
clown? Volunteer? Has Batman learned to joke
"You know," the person on the other side of the phone seemed to have difficulty saying this, "after all, you have also met Mr. Warden."
Kent: "..."
"Kent!" The editor's voice came from the room.
Kent rested his forehead and said, "I get it, Bruce." Then he raised his voice a little more: "—I get it, Perry!"
Mr. Wayne on the opposite side: "..."
Twenty minutes later, Kent, who hurried out of the editor-in-chief's office, glanced at his watch, nodded indiscernibly as he passed Louise's place, and turned around to enter the men's bathroom next to him.
He walked into the innermost compartment, opened the window and looked out, closed his eyes and listened for a moment, then slowly took off his glasses.
Everything in the prison was as usual at this time, and Zhang Dianyu sat on his sofa and meditated like every day—studying the movements of each prisoner with a map.
Since he played Seike Stone, he has gradually discovered something that he had neglected. The prisoners in the prison belong to several gangs, and they are idle people with almost no freedom. They will soon be beaten to death or bullied by others, and eventually belong to a certain force.
If you want to turn off free fire and maintain order in the prison, you need to find the gang leaders, intimidate them, and control their dynamics.
This thing sounds simple, but it's not that easy in reality—gangsters will automatically flow to stronger gangs, and fight each other to eradicate dissidents.
If the warden intervenes in their fight, it is likely to cause even greater trouble.
But this matter is not urgent, what is important is the movement of the clown and Lecter. Zhang Dianyu felt a little puzzled by their behavior, because they didn't do anything—this was really puzzling for two perverted killers.
After breakfast time, the two returned to their respective cells. The clown was sitting on the bed holding a pack of playing cards—this is what Zhang Dianyu saw from the map, and he guessed that he was probably playing cards.
Yes, after a month of struggle, Zhang Dianyu finally gave the clown the playing cards he wanted.
But it's not free.
There are always shops in the prison that are open to prisoners. Of course, the salesperson is also a prisoner of hard labor. Moreover, the things sold inside are several times more expensive than outside, and the playing cards are dozens of times more expensive.
This unit price was specifically requested by Zhang Dianyu, because he didn't like prisoners playing cards in the prison. After all, playing cards is easy to breed conflicts. More than once, prisoners got into a ball while playing cards, and even murders occurred.
Zhang Dianyu slowly questioned the scene.
It's just a game of cards, aren't these violent elements a little too excitable
Since then, Zhang Dianyu has directly increased the price of playing cards dozens of times—the effect is remarkable. For a long time, no one bought this unscrupulous playing cards, except for the clown.
Compared to the clown and the playing cards he couldn't put down, Lecter next door is much quieter, he is reading.
The famous ogre and notorious serial killer did most of what he did in prison—apart from solitary confinement—to read and write, perhaps a dissertation on psychology, but Zhang Dianyu didn't intend to give him the chance to publish.
He felt that those people outside were indeed crazy.
Every day, the prison has a post office to deliver mail, and workers will move the packages to the mail room, where there are also prisoners serving hard labor to distribute letters.
Since the news of Hannibal Lecter's transfer to this prison spread, Zhang Dianyu received many letters from major newspapers, admirers, and psychological journals, and he threw them into the trash can without even reading them. .
Is it important to keep the dog's head in the pursuit of knowledge? These people are not afraid of being mentally polluted by reading the ogre's paper.
time flies. Zhang Dianyu looked at the to-do list in the upper left corner, and there was a countdown to the time when the amusement park came to pick up the labor prisoners.
When the countdown finally reached zero, a colorfully painted van drove in from the edge of the map, with the words Olivia Comprehensive Recreation Center on it.
This is a makeup van, used to pick up and drop off the performers, and the Joker and Lecter can get dressed up and go to work before rushing to the amusement park.
The content of this labor order requires two volunteers, one of whom needs to dress up as a clown and distribute balloons to every child entering the park at the entrance of the amusement park.
And the other is to attract customers by acting as a zombie for a day at the entrance of the haunted house in the amusement park that provides charity funds, and take pictures with tourists.
Zhang Dianyu thinks that both of them can act in their true colors, which is very good.
Little did they know that when receiving the list of volunteers, the director of the amusement park fell into a coma for 15 minutes and was almost sent to an ambulance.
As the van from the amusement park slowly stopped at the prison's heavily guarded gate, the two previous guards also walked into the morgue, put handcuffs on the clown and Lecter, and escorted them to the car.
Zhang Dianyu watched the colorful pickup truck leave the range of the map, and suddenly felt a sense of discomfort.
He is used to monitoring the movement of all prisoners from the map, and it seems that everything is under control.
But the labor orders outside the prison were far beyond his sight.
While he wasn't surprised what would happen—his overseer should have been on the scene anyway—it didn't seem that simple.
Zhang Dianyu couldn't help but stood up from the sofa chair, stood there holding the clipboard in his hand for a while, then slowly came back to his senses, and walked a few steps in the office.
It happened that Banner poked his head in at this time: "Mr. Warden?" He asked hesitantly, "You feel a little bit wanting again... have you taken a walk in place?"
Zhang Dianyu looked at Banner, feeling a little puzzled.
Banner seemed to understand something. He shook his head and muttered softly: "Mr. Warden started to circle around again, I don't know how long it will take this time..."
Zhang Dianyu: "..."
Does he look like he is hanging up now
He thought of Seike Stone. His prisoner's vest was back from the brig by this time, but Sekestone was much safer with Joyce in the brig - although the culprit could be Hannibal, who now lives next door to the Joker , I'm afraid I don't have time to engage in Cykestone.
After all, the prison is free to move around during the day. In theory they live next door, but the cell door is not closed. Rounding up the two of them are roommates.
They've been roommates for an hour since this morning, and they're fine.
Zhang Dianyu didn't know whether to regret or be relieved—but this time they were released deliberately, but Batman had to be summoned for the safety of the guards and others. It is estimated that they are unlikely to escape from prison.
I hope it can arouse their longing for the outside of the prison, and pretend to be a corpse as soon as possible——Zhang Dianyu thought.
The Olivia Comprehensive Recreation Center opens to the public at 10 o'clock every morning, but the staff who came to pick up people obviously knew who they were facing, and their hands trembled worse than Doctor Strange when they put on makeup .
The clown was not too happy: "You are not very professional, my lady."
The makeup artist cried out.
The clown tilted his head and looked at her for a while: "I want to kill you—"
Although the faces of the two guards next to him didn't change, they pulled out their stun guns and turned to the clown at the same time.
The clown grinned at the back of one of the guards—the one named Adams, and made a mysterious gesture of wiping his neck.
Lecter smiled back.
The clown clicked his tongue: "It's really boring."
The driver didn't know what was going on behind him, but the van arrived at the amusement park on time.
Under the threat of death, the makeup artist seems to have a rare control, and successfully dressed the two people as zombies and clowns-the latter does not seem to need too much troublesome retouching.
The clown grinned at the mirror with satisfaction, took the bunch of balloons ready to be distributed, and happily curtseyed to the surroundings.
In the control room of the amusement center, the director walked anxiously and yelled into the phone: "What do you mean there is no need to call the police—do you read the news?"
"I'm sorry, sir, we have been informed that everything is in compliance with the regulations, please don't get excited."
The voice from the phone seemed a little helpless, and there were some murmurs that were not clear.
The director dropped his arms in despair.
At exactly 10 o'clock, the gate of the amusement park slowly opened, and the dreamlike castle and the thrilling roller coaster loomed behind the dense tree canopy. A man dressed as a clown stood at the gate, holding a bunch of balloons in his hand, slightly tilted his head to look at the upcoming Crowds pouring into the park.
He grinned.
Seeing the colorful balloons in the sky, several children shouted happily, and dragged their parents towards the clown.
The clown smiled and pulled out a piggy page from the middle and handed it to the first little boy who ran to him.
"My little warrior, congratulations on getting your reward—can you tell me your name?"
"Jack..." the boy said with some fear, he tightly grasped the string of the balloon in his hand, and did not look up at the clown.
Clowns are the psychological shadows of children.
His mother seemed a little sorry, smiled at the clown, and pushed the boy away.
Another child squeezed close to the clown and raised his hand high: "Mr. Clown, please give me a balloon?"
"Of course." The clown laughed out of breath, and picked out one of the balloons according to the child's request from a bunch of balloons in his hand.
Time passed slowly, and everything seemed to be peaceful.
Until a young mother wondered for a moment at the balloon handed over by the clown, and after politely taking the rope, hesitated for a moment, and suddenly looked at his face.
The clown tilted his head and met her gaze with a smile.
The young mother became flustered. She lowered her head and withdrew from the crowd, quietly took out her mobile phone and secretly took a photo.
However, the clown's eyes suddenly passed through the crowd and accurately caught her action. He looked at her and laughed: "I like you—you're so smart."
The young mother's complexion suddenly changed.
Screams came from the crowd: "It's the clown—it's the clown!"
The clown suddenly let go of his hand, and the balloon scattered with a splash and floated into the air.