Bang! Bang!
The gunfire was thick, fast, and unrelenting, hopelessly tangled up with a high-pitched, manic laugh that sounded like some depraved form of classical music. The sound was enough to send a sub-zero chill straight down anyone's spine.
A lone figure, dual-wielding handguns, was busy perforating the air around a huddle of terrified security guards and a blubbering bank manager cowering in a corner. Every time a shot rang out, someone collapsed with a scream, blood splattering the marble floor.
The air was already heavy with the thick, iron-oxide stench of blood, causing Lynn to wrinkle his nose slightly in distaste as he surveyed the scene.
His eyes zeroed in on the purple-suited psycho with the chalk-white face and the 악귀 (aku - demon/evil spirit) grin.
Joker. His target.
Taking a deep breath, Lynn didn't hesitate. He hoisted the heavy, rigid female body higher onto his shoulder and launched into a full sprint directly toward the center of the chaos.
"BOSS! BATMAN'S HERE!"
Batman?
The Joker froze mid-shot. He slow-blinked, and then his bright red mouth split open, stretching into a genuinely terrifying, toothy smile. Perfect. His plan was working. His old dance partner had shown up right on schedule.
Lowering his guns, Joker turned to look at the gang member who had shouted.
The guy was... a lot. He was wearing a classic plastic clown mask, but below that, he had on a fuzzy wool overcoat featuring a cartoon character from some obscure anime. Below that, he was rocking a pair of incredibly loud, rainbow-patterned boxer shorts and, the absolute icing on the chaotic cake, simple rubber flip-flops.
To top it all off, he was carrying a very dead-looking woman over his shoulder.
Looking at Lynn's abstract monstrosity of an outfit, the corner of Joker's mouth twitched involuntarily. What in the absolute hell is this? Did he seriously hire someone this weird?
Whatever. He's probably just disposable cannon fodder. Batman is the priority.
The star graduate of Arkham Asylum turned to his "loyal henchman" and asked, "Where is he?"
"ON THE CEILING!" Lynn shouted, taking two casual steps closer to the mountain of cash bags next to Joker's feet.
Joker looked up instantly, squinting into the rafters. Sure enough, high up in the corner, clinging to a shadow like a gargoyle on a stealth mission, was the Big Bad Bat.
"Ohohohoho! Batman! I found you!"
It was like a high-stakes high school reunion. A sickeningly flush of excitement rushed to Joker's face, making his pale cheeks glow with an unnatural reddish tint. He raised his pistols, finger tightening on the triggers, ready to paint the ceiling with bullet holes.
Up above, Batman's face darkened with determination as he tensed his muscles, preparing to launch a dynamic entry and put an end to this. Based on his intel and preparation, as long as he accounted for the Joker's signature laugh gas, this whole bank robbery would be wrapped up in minutes.
However,
THUMP!
Without warning, a heavy, dead body was dropped squarely onto the Joker's back. He wasn't ready for it and collapsed instantly under the unexpected weight, his face smashing into the floor.
While Joker was still face-down in the marble, completely stunned, a cheerful man's voice echoed in his ear.
"Thanks for helping me rob the bank, Jokie! Much appreciated!"
Lynn grabbed the largest, heaviest bag of cash with both hands and immediately activated his [Usain Bolt Character Card].
Before any of the actual Joker Gang members could even process what they were seeing, Lynn was nothing but a blur of bad fashion. Within three seconds, he had vanished entirely from everyone's sight.
Clinging to the ceiling, Batman slow-blinked. The expression on his grim, shadowy face was a unique blend of "utterly dark and brooding" and "completely, fundamentally confused."
As a highly professional, mature superhero, Batman easily resisted the urge to laugh.
Yet, for reasons he couldn't quite explain, seeing the Joker get successfully mugged... it did bring a small, almost unnoticeable twitch to the corner of his stern mouth.
Wee-woo! Wee-woo! Wee-woo!
The high-pitched wail of police sirens erupted from just outside the bank.
With a grunt of pure rage, Joker used every ounce of his chaotic strength to shove the dead body off of him, scrambling to his feet with his eyes blazing.
"Holy shit! Mr. J! You got robbed!" Harley Quinn's voice rang out, a tone of genuine, panicked shock. Her thick white clown makeup didn't help hide her expression, and the dynamic red-and-black jester suit she wore was clinging tight to her curves.
"I KNOW, Harley! I don't need you to remind me!" Joker hissed through gritted teeth.
As an Arkham valedictorian, he didn't actually care about the money. Money was just paper to burn. The problem...
Batman was here.
Batman saw the whole thing.
How was Batman going to look at him now? Would he think the Joker was slipping? That he was just some common loser who could get his loot swiped by a total nobody in flip-flops?
Goddammit. He had to find that guy. He had to reclaim his status.
[Personal Funds: $10,680 → $110,680]
[Main Quest Progress: 50%]
"I guess it's true what they say," Lynn muttered thoughtfully, rubbing his chin as he stood in a damp, dark alleyway. "The fastest way to get rich is to break the law."
"Turns out, stealing money from others is way easier than convincing them to willingly hand it over."
He pulled up the blue holographic mission log, scanning the "Rob the Bank" quest parameters.
"Tch. Just like a damn pop-up ad for pre-transmigration junk food. Pissing off the Joker only gets me 50%. I still have to actually infuriate Batman to finish this thing."
With a weary sigh, Lynn pulled his sturdy Nokia flip-phone out of his pocket and immediately used the [Batman Communicator] skill to continue harass the Dark Knight.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The line went dead instantly.
"Is he busy?" Lynn looked at the phone in surprise, watching the call screen revert to his classic Nokia home screen. "Guess I'll try again at 4:00 AM. See if he's still awake then."
Anyway, the Joker was still stuck at the bank. He could just head back there in a bit. As for whether or not he'd get caught by the Bat or the cops? Lynn didn't care. As a 'Player', if you didn't end up in the drunk tank at least once, were you even playing the game correctly?
"Gotta change the costume, though. This fuzzy anime coat isn't strong enough for the endgame content."
With a thought, Lynn instantly swapped his weird outfit for a different set of clothes from his system inventory.
He peeked at his reflection on the phone's tiny, mirrored screen, nodding in satisfaction at what he saw: a massive, fuzzy brown teddy bear mask, complete with polished metal scrap armor plates covering his chest, and chunky high-top sneakers.
"Perfect. A true 'Player' knows you have to max out the stats, no matter how stupid the resulting armor looks."
What kind of 'Player' actually looked like a normal person during a cutscene?
Just as he was preparing to head back toward the chaos, Lynn's brow furrowed under the bear mask.
"Wait a second. I've been standing in this pitch-black alley in Gotham City for over ten minutes now. How has not a single mugger approached me yet? Is this even still Gotham?"
Something was wrong. Fundamentally wrong.
And then, right on cue:
"Hey, pal. Mind 'borrowing' some cash to your good buddies here?"
Oh.
Much better.
Lynn looked up, grinning under his mask. In the dim light of the alley, a massive, muscular man was standing in front of him. The mugger was wearing a hood, a face mask, and dark sunglasses to hide his identity. In his hand, he was pointing a very real Glock 17 handgun directly at Lynn's fuzzy chest.
Looking at this specimen of generic criminality, Lynn's eyes lit up. This guy looked like the quintessential, low-budget cannon fodder. Which was exactly what he needed.
Lynn raised his right index finger, pointing decisively at the confused mugger. "You. Yes, you. Come with me. We're going to go make the big money."
The massive man, who was just about to launch into his standard robbery spiel, froze. "Huh?"
Before he could react, Lynn grabbed his arm in a iron grip.
"'Huh' what? Don't you want money? The Joker just finished robbing the Gotham Bank. We're just going to go and rob him instead."
Sure, Lynn had already made off with $100,000, but there was no way a legend like the Joker only stole that small an amount. Plus, wherever the Joker was, Batman was guaranteed to be nearby. If he wanted to finish infuriating the Bat, he had to go back to the source.
The generic goon just stared at the weird man in the bear mask and metal armor. This guy... was he brain-damaged?
Actually, now that he thought about it, robbing a successful bank robber did sound like a faster way to make cash than robbing random pedestrians.
But the Joker...
In Gotham, everyone knew the name. Even the common criminals feared him. One wrong look, and that psycho would put a bullet in your brain just for a laugh.
Seeing the brute hesitating, Lynn unleashed some pre-transmigration inspiration.
"Look, friend. Think about the finer things in life. Think about that brand-new Audi. Think about your wife covered in Dior. Think about your son... uh, covered in Oreos?"
"Look at you. You have so much potential! How can you even sleep at your age with this kind of opportunity right in front of you?"
Generic Goon: "..." Is this guy a total lunatic?
Just as the goon was about to shake his head and just shoot this weirdo, Lynn suddenly pulled a massive, military-grade rocket launcher out of absolutely nowhere.
The gaping black maw of the rocket launcher was pointed directly at the massive mugger's chest. The man could practically taste the pungent, metallic tang of gunpowder radiating off the heavy weapon.
He swallowed hard, the Adam's apple bobbing in his thick throat, and spoke with absolute, unwavering conviction: "Let's go. We're going to go rob the Joker right now."
It wasn't the overwhelming threat of heavy artillery that motivated him. No, it was purely his deep-seated desire for financial success.