"You know, my gun has never jammed that many times."
The Joker leisurely removed bullets from the revolver. Checked them one by one. Loaded new ammunition methodically. Even the bullets for that hand cannon were specially made. Terrifyingly large.
"Hohohahahahahaha."
"Solomon! Wake up!"
Jude dove out from behind a wall. At the same time, Solomon Grundy, red eyes wild with laughter, smashed the entire wall to pieces like a freight truck. Jude was grateful the zombie had lost most rationality. His attacks became blind and manic. Otherwise dodging this collision would have been impossible.
"But today it jammed three times. And I was thinking—maybe you really are Santa Claus?" The Joker tilted his head. "But where are your reindeer? Could it be this big guy?"
While Jude nervously dodged Solomon's fatal attacks, the Joker didn't step forward to finish him off. Instead stood aside laughing. "This is truly the darkest joke I've heard this year. It almost shattered my childhood."
He gestured theatrically. "Santa's reindeer is a giant, ugly zombie that can easily run over a dozen children? Ha! I should add that to my collection."
"Solomon!" Jude quickly pulled a pumpkin head from his bag and put it on. "Do you recognize me? Born on Monday! Baptized on Tuesday!"
But Solomon Grundy had indeed lost most sanity. The Joker's laughing gas had invaded his already limited brain, turning his thoughts into mush.
"Hohohahahahahaha."
His terrifying face was now squeezed into a ball. The gas made his facial muscles contract wildly, forcing a grotesque smile. It looked particularly eerie in the moonlight. But Solomon was a zombie. The deadly laughing gas couldn't kill him. Could only make him rush around with that horrifying grin frozen on his face.
The Joker's attention focused on the pumpkin on Jude's head. He noticed this fear-inducing mask was unusual. A good thing for spreading terror.
"Oh, that pumpkin head is really interesting. As ugly and scary as this big guy." He clapped his hands. "Is this a Christmas present for me?"
"Here, take it!" Jude pulled another item from his bag. "Grundy, catch!"
He threw a packaged milk container directly to Grundy while drawing his Colt revolver. This milk wasn't from the Horn of Plenty. Horn-produced food couldn't remove abnormal status effects.
A Bucket of Milk
Price: $2,000 asset points
Note: Milk shipped across borders is, of course, more expensive. —HIM
The milk container was shot mid-air and exploded, soaking Grundy completely. After drinking large amounts of milk, the creepy smile finally disappeared from his face. His brain regained control of his body. His clever IQ once again occupied the high ground.
Then he roared angrily at the Joker who'd made the shot.
"SOLOMON GRUNDY! BORN ON A MONDAY!"
"Grundy, not now! You need to leave first!"
"Solomon Grundy. Born on a Monday."
The big guy was stopped by Jude. Though he looked quite unwilling, he still restrained the urge to press the Joker against a wall. Jumped out the broken window in annoyance.
"Huh? That's not fair!" The Joker muttered, dissatisfied. "Why should the Christmas gift I worked so hard to prepare be destroyed by Santa Claus's bucket of milk? This is cheating! He can even shoot a gun. What kind of Santa Claus is this?"
"Laughing gas that infects zombies is cheating." Santa flipped him off. "Not only can I shoot, I can also call reinforcements. If you've got the guts, wait a minute. My friend Krampus will come kill you right away!"
"Haha, Nordic Santa Claus now? Hehehehe—then he'd better hurry." The Joker put away his pistol and pulled out a knife and crowbar.
"Because I don't feel like playing anymore."
Jude didn't respond. Shouted instead. "Clinton!"
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
In less than two seconds, six gunshots rang out dense as popcorn. Six bullets attacked the Joker like rain. Under moonlight, a bald head reflected faint light.
"You called me here just to deal with this freak? And you dragged another freak into it?"
"His name is Solomon Grundy. He has a name, Clinton."
"Doesn't matter. Damn it." Clinton's voice was bitter. "Month ago you were held at gunpoint by a gangster. Now you're held at gunpoint by a clown lunatic. Sooner or later I'm gonna see you dead in the street."
"When will your bad temper quit?"
"Hey, hey, hey, gentlemen!"
The Joker's sharp voice drew their attention back. "Why are you ignoring me? Do you really think that hidden little mouse can hit me?"
Facing six shots fired at astonishing speed, the Joker remained unharmed. Jude glanced at six bullet holes in the wall and gritted his teeth. Even Clinton couldn't track the opponent's movements. At this point, guns probably wouldn't have much effect.
"Clinton, leave. There's no chance anymore."
"What bullshit are you talking about? I'm paid to do a job."
"You can only get paid if you go back alive—"
"Yes, yes, blah blah blah."
The Joker interrupted their conversation impatiently. "How boring! How can a Santa Claus make Christmas even more boring? Let me liven up the atmosphere. How about a fireworks display!"
He adjusted his suit with exaggerated seriousness. Stretched out his hand and snapped his fingers. Suddenly the dark Christmas tree began flashing with colorful lights, illuminating the entire room.
"Please allow me to introduce this painstakingly crafted, perfect work of art!" He bowed theatrically. "It's called... uh—yes! The Fireworks Christmas Tree!"
Bullshit fireworks Christmas tree.
Jude looked at the sparkling bulbs on the tree and recognized them immediately. Apple-shaped bombs. Harvey's house had just been bombed once. Just repaired. Now it had to be bombed a second time.
The Joker was really inhuman.
"Now, gentlemen." He bowed slightly to both of them and showed the red button in his hand. "Let's see whether Santa Claus likes the Christmas tree. Hahahahaha—"
Click.
The explosion switch was pressed.
The Joker looked at the Christmas tree full of bombs with anticipation.
Jude rushed straight forward.
"You won't see any fireworks display tonight!"