"Of the 30 million people in Gotham City, 5 million have been directly or indirectly involved in first-degree murder."
This is an underground safe house in Gotham City, the Riddler's lair, the safest and most secretive one.
This place was arranged like an ordinary study room. Killer Croc, who was sitting on the sofa, pulled out a copy of Kant's "Critique of Pure Reason" from the bookshelf next to him. After flipping through it for a while, he found that he couldn't understand a single word, so he threw it on the ground in anger.
The ventriloquist picked it up and stuffed it back.
"About 15 million people have committed crimes. The remaining 10 million people who have not committed crimes are not good civilians, but because they are hidden gentlemen, gamblers, and prostitutes in red-light districts."
The Riddler's voice echoed in the room, and Jim Gordon was tied to a chair, his eyes blindfolded, and a cloth stuffed in his mouth.
"And the reason they didn't join the criminal army is not because of any noble qualities, but because they were not driven into desperate situations."
The TV was playing, and the Riddler checked it. It was live. Batman was there, just as he had planned. He continued:
"So do you understand? There are no good people in Gotham. The only ones who can be called good people are drug addicts and gamblers, because they will not hurt anyone except themselves."
"I'm so tired of this, year after year, day after day. Living in a pile of garbage, and committing crimes all the time."
"If committing crimes is so tiring, why don't you stop?" said the movie freak. "You can stop committing crimes, right?"
"No, you don't understand at all."
The Riddler stood up nervously, then squatted on the sofa, hugging his legs, like a lonely, helpless and poor child.
"This is a war, and if we really give up crime because we're tired, then he wins... Batman wins."
"So what? Can't I survive without committing crimes?"
Killer Croc found a bag of potato chips nearby, opened it, and threw it directly into his mouth.
"No, that's not it. Batman won, but I didn't lose."
Huh? Killer Croc thought he was completely crazy.
He knew that telling riddles was the Riddler's specialty, just like the uncle selling hot dogs at the entrance of the park would have his own unique recipe. But the Riddler had never told such a difficult riddle, at least not in his memory.
The Riddler looked a little nervous, hugging his knees like a little boy hiding in a corner during a thunderstorm.
"You don't understand. I'm not me at all. I mean, I don't represent myself at all."
He rambled on, "I am naturally attracted to people of my own kind, just like bats have always attracted all of us. Just like you, Killer Croc, you have always attracted all the criminals in Gotham City who have the same beast-like heart as you.
"So you can easily gather an army that is extremely loyal to you.
"You are their king. The pure beast-type criminals are following you, just like the highly intelligent criminals around me, the desperate laughing lunatics around the clown who are knocked down by life, and the fearful worshippers around the scarecrow."
"We, our so-called super criminals, we are their spiritual pillars. Bats said something very right, criminals are mostly superstitious and blindly follow..."
The Riddler continued:
"We have the same qualities as them, but we are much stronger than them, so they are easily convinced by us."
"We no longer represent ourselves, but part of the evil in Gotham. We represent those people and become a kind of concrete embodiment of this evil."
He stared at the TV blankly.
"Killing me is useless. If you kill me, Tutankhamun, Clue Master or some other criminal who is similar to me will take my place. He may not be as strong as me, but he must be the strongest among the remaining ones, and so on and so forth!"
"We are never special! So Bat knows very well that killing us will not stop crime. On the contrary, his act of murdering us will only exacerbate the breeding of crime."
"Every successful crime is a great encouragement to other criminals. Once this opening is made, he truly becomes part of the darkness, and therefore can no longer eliminate the darkness. Do you understand?"
"If Bat really did that, then he would be like us. He would attract other criminals and others to imitate his murderous behavior. Then this metropolis of 30 million people would become a slaughter field, with rivers of blood and piles of corpses. Because if you want to be serious, everyone is a criminal!"
The Riddler says:
"Everyone can kill people at will under the banner of justice, and the law will become a piece of waste paper. Bats will never do that."
"That's alarmist," Movie Freak commented. "Super villains are just a little bit special."
"What's so special about me?" said the Riddler.
"Before all of us weirdos, there was Roman Falcone. Before Roman Falcone, Gotham had the Lion King. Before that, there were the four great families of Gotham. Before that, before that, I was just a puppet of Gotham's evil, a marionette. It doesn't matter whether this puppet is called the Riddler or Edward."
"Just like the Joker, the Joker has died so many times, how dare you say he is still the same Joker?"
"We saw him disappear in the explosion with our own eyes, and then he came back two or three months later, fell into the river, disappeared, and came back two or three months later. He came back again and again, and he will always come back. He can only be dispelled but not killed! Gotham only needs a madman who can crack his mouth from ear to ear. What is the real name of that madman? Does it matter?"
"He beats me again and again. Our game never stops until one of us collapses. Bats is trying to overthrow the entire city by himself! You don't understand how shocking this is. He is unbeatable, never hesitates, and never needs to rest. He is extremely smart and wise. His will is as strong as steel. He is like a god walking on earth!"
The Riddler's voice gradually became louder, and he stood up and waved his hands:
"This is unscientific, this is impossible! How can such a person exist?"
"You simply don't understand how hopeless it is to face such an opponent!"
"No matter how hard you struggle, no matter how hard you fight, you will be sent back to Arkham. This is so sad!"
He slumped back onto the sofa.
"Death may be a relief for me. This way I don't have to worry about my own incompetence and the sins of Gotham. I can't stop committing crimes anymore."
"It's not just because of my mental illness. No matter what I decide to do, no matter what I do, the evil of Gotham will pull me back on track like an invisible hand. It enslaves me! It holds me back!"
"No matter how I cry and struggle, he will force me to use that damn puzzle to manipulate me! To bare his fangs to the son of Gotham who was born in darkness but betrayed darkness! I am a dragon that should be slain by the knight, but I am also a servant of darkness!"
"Only death can bring me peace. But Batman is unwilling to grant me even this final peace. He doesn't even kill the Joker! Do you know? Batman is a cruel avenger, but his target of revenge is not me, not Two-Face, not the Joker! It's the sin of Gotham City! What he wants to end is not the criminals, but the crime itself!"
"But evil and crime will never end. As long as there is a human being living in this world, evil and crime will never end! But he did just that! He was trying to achieve an absolutely impossible goal, torturing himself and everyone else! He is simply not a human being!"
He seemed to have lost all his strength and slumped in the chair as if all the bones in his body had been pulled out.
"I'm tired. I'm really tired."
He murmured quietly, "So now there are no more riddles, no more tests, and no more games. Everything must come to an end."
He picked up the phone on the table and called Batman on TV: "Batman—now, do as I say and kill the Joker!"
He walked up to the whimpering Jim Gordon, pulled out a pistol, put his head side by side with Jim Gordon's, and then put the gun to his temple.
"No riddles, no hints, only one order. Kill the Joker, or Jim Gordon and I will have our heads exploded."
"Either kill the Joker and save Gordon and me, or let the Joker go and let Gordon and me die."
"Batman, you can hear me. Make your choice. Don't try to pretend to stab or shoot the Joker in a non-lethal position. I want you to cut the Joker into pieces. Only when I see him dismembered will I confirm his death and release Jim Gordon."
"Whether it's you or me, the principles that we are being held hostage to, the iron laws that cannot be broken, must all be destroyed today. If you can't destroy them, then destroy me."
"I decided to kill the Joker using femtosecond laser pulverization. This technology can pulverize materials on a microscopic scale. In a sense, the Joker will be chopped into pieces."
"Yes, do it now."
The clown crawled into the red cabinet, and soon, the wooden boards of the cabinet fell off, revealing its original crystal coffin.
"Kill him immediately, no matter what method you use!"
But Batman ignored him. He walked up and talked to the Joker for a while.
"You killed him, why didn't you... wait."
The Riddler suddenly realized something. He was not such a stupid person. He shouldn't have realized it now.
A bat figure with pointed ears appeared behind him, and the Riddler heard the voice: it was Batman.
"You see, I made a mistake. I always thought super villains like you liked games. I thought your desire for games was endless."
"I'm an idiot, just like you. Look, you're in your room right now, making the same smart mistakes that I am."
"You assume that I can't possibly break the iron rule."
"You assume I'm defenseless and unprepared."
"You assume that my mercy is endless."
"You're assuming I don't have the courage to deal with the situation once the iron rule of not killing is broken."
"You're assuming that what you're looking at isn't a prepared video, that I'm talking to the Joker about his final moments in the old Wayne Tower."
Amygdala tried to move, but was immediately held down by Killer Croc. He was pinned to the ground and tied up.
"And you're assuming that Ventriloquist and Killer Croc aren't my people."
"—you're assuming that the movie geek couldn't possibly be Batman in disguise."
Click!
The Riddler pulled the trigger, but no bullet came out, although he had expected this result.
"You're even assuming I didn't quietly replace the bullets in your gun."
"Why do you think so little of me, Edward Nygma? Why do you assume that you are the only one who breaks the rules?"
The Riddler turned around and smiled bitterly.
"So, the Joker wasn't killed? You tricked me?"
"Nygma, Nygma... you are still so arrogant."
"Guess what, Edward - you and I have only met once, but you will know me forever. Who am I
"Please note that what I am about to say is not a metaphor, rhetoric, theory, or anything else."
The Riddler hears Batman say:
"I have killed the clown."