The Joker's hand-to-hand combat skills were no weaker than Batman's; in fact, he had even defeated Batman in a sword duel.
However, unlike Batman, the Joker never wore a full suit of bulletproof and protective armor.
Perhaps due to his chaotic madness, the Joker was always overconfident—after all, his greatest enemy was a hero who adhered to a strict no-kill principle.
Everyone else was beneath his notice, mere pawns to be casually disposed of.
Unfortunately, this was the real world, not a comic special revolving solely around Batman and the Joker.
Anyone could slip up and die, and the Joker was no exception.
One wrong move, and it could really be the end.
Moreover, Ethan Hunter was no pushover.
He just didn't want to play a game of wits with the Joker.
Bats… are not as useful as brains.
"Hmph, the Crime Prince of Gotham… just like that, has fallen." Ethan Hunter leaned in, observing the Joker's body with morbid curiosity, showing no trace of discomfort from his first kill. "By the way, are you going to keep his body in a display case, Bats? Because someone like you, dark and twisted, seems capable of doing something like that."
"What have you done?!" Batman finally snapped out of his brief shock and grabbed Ethan Hunter by the collar. "The Joker should be subjected to the law, not a bullet from the Bureau!"
"Lawful punishment? Don't be naive. As a Republic agent, I see your American law as a joke in most cases." Ethan Hunter laughed lightly, using the butt of his gun to push back Batman's grip. "You have a no-kill rule, but I don't. The most dangerous criminal in Gotham directly threatened my life, so I shot him in the forehead. Makes sense, right? Or do you Americans grant human rights to the most sadistic supervillains? That's just laughable."
Ethan Hunter's argument was pragmatic; one sentence—"I'm a Republic agent"—was enough to silence Batman.
After all, the so-called "no-kill principle" was his personal choice; he had no right to command a senior Bureau agent.
Seeing Batman gradually regain his composure, Ethan Hunter turned to the bedside.
At this moment, Harley Quinn's eyes were unfocused, her helpless and conflicted expression like a child who had just lost a parent.
Ethan Hunter sighed. "Ada Wong, let her go."
"Are you sure?"
"I am very sure."
Once confirmed, Ada Wong immediately released Harley Quinn's restrained hands.
As Ethan Hunter had anticipated, Harley did not react impulsively. Instead, she gazed at the Joker lying in front of her, still smiling despite the bullet wound in his forehead.
How complex was her expression?
There was admiration and respect as a devotee, madness and grief as the Joker's disciple, and hatred and pain as Harleen Quinzel.
The Joker never loved Harley Quinn; on the contrary, he despised and even hated her.
Everything he did—trying to blow her up, then spending a fortune to save her—was merely the Crime Prince's amusement, testing how far the former psychologist who tried to study and heal him would fall.
In fact, he succeeded: Harleen Quinzel completely became Harley Quinn.
But he also failed. Even as Harley Quinn, she retained her sense of right and wrong, subconsciously seeking the light.
Thus, a completely new and unprecedented Harley Quinn was born.
A Harley Quinn who had not completely lost her sanity.
Ethan Hunter was certain: her feelings toward the Joker, although extremely complicated, were absolutely not love.
Even if there were a trace of twisted affection, it had vanished when the Joker deliberately blew her to near death.
Even in the original story, the Joker's former partner gradually separated from him, eventually leaving the villain path, becoming an anti-hero, and even joining the Bat-family as an unofficial member.