Mr. Wayne seemed to be awake immediately, but still maintained a lazy tone: "Let me see the time-oh my God, Mr. Warden, do you seem to be in a hurry to find me?"

Zhang Dianyu replied, "Oh no, I don't have anything special to ask for you. There is only good news to inform you."

Wayne was silent for a moment, with a smile of reluctance: "What's the matter?"

"About Gottan's psychiatric criminal clown-recently undergoing reform education in prison." Zhang Dianyu said, "After half an hour, the prison is preparing to arrange for him to volunteer at the Olivia Comprehensive Amusement Center. Government service orders. "

There was a sound of water being sprayed into the air from the handset of the phone, and Zhang Dianyu took the phone a little bit away without expression.

A few seconds later, a cough came: "I'm sorry ... I think I was drunk last night-Alfred, get me some hangover medicine."

"But you didn't--" A somewhat older British accent half spoke, and suddenly changed his tone seriously, "I see, sir."

Zhang Dianyu: "..."

"Mr. Warden, on behalf of Gotham, thank you for your effort-where did you just say the clowns are serving? Olivia Comprehensive Amusement Center?" Mr. Wayne's voice came again.

Zhang Dianyu smiled: "Yes, Mr. Wayne, this is what I should do-if there is nothing, I will not disturb you to continue to rest."

"Oh, I'm sorry ..." Mr. Wayne murmured in an unclear voice, seemingly sleepy--or he was holding his phone with his mouth, and his hand needed to do something else, " I'm really willing to talk to you, Mr. Warden, but the hangover is giving me a terrible headache-oh, it was Alfred who came to understand the medicine, so I'll hang up. "

"Then see you next time, Mr. Wayne." Zhang Dianyu replied with satisfaction.

After the call was hung up, Zhang Dianyu was very happy.

But he ignored a question, and Mr. Wayne, who was in focus, didn't— "Master, are you sure?" Alfred asked with a serious face, passing it to Mr. Wayne, who was rushing to the bat cave in his nightgown. Tray with clean hot towels on it.

Wayne wearily picked up the towel and wiped his face: "Yes, Alfred, I must rush over."

"But you can't," the old housekeeper's words were not fierce, but pointed out the fact, "From here to Los Angeles, even Batwing will not let you arrive in a short time, I think you must make this happen Notify your allies. "

Mr Wayne paused: "Alfred, you mean--"

"--iron Man."

"——Superman."

Alfred: "... your proposal makes sense. But Mr. Superman is at work, sir, I think Iron Man might be willing to watch the clown for you."

"I don't want to," Wayne said sharply.

The secret door opened, and the computer's indifferent voice came: "Password?"

"IronMansucks." Wayne replied.

Alfred: "..."

In the main hall of the Planet Daily Building, reporter Kent, who had a relationship with Zhang Dianyu, pressed the elevator door and greeted people passing by.

Immediately afterwards, his cell phone suddenly rang. He quickly took out the phone and glanced at it, but when he saw the name above, he gave a slight glance, and then looked around subconsciously.

In general, his buddies don't like to call him-to be precise, he doesn't like asking for help.

He answered the phone with confusion: "Hey Bruce."

"Clark, are you free now?"

The elevator stopped with a "ding", and Kent said, "Uh ..."

"Can you ask for leave?"

Kent walked up the elevator and couldn't help scratching his hair: "Bruce, actually ... I think it shouldn't be impossible, do you have anything?"

A friend rarely asked for help, and he decided to help.

The elevator reached the floor of the Department of Public Information. Kent took the phone out of the elevator and saw his girlfriend and colleague Louise come over. He smiled and was pulled aside.

"Clark, Perry is looking for you. Did you hand in your manuscript?"

"What?" Kent was startled. "You know I last night—"

"--It's busy." Louise interrupted him with great certainty, winking at him. The head of the editor-in-chief Perry White poked out behind him, "Kent!"

Kent: "..."

"You're busy? That's fine," said the voice on the phone.

"No, Bruce, I'm not busy." Kent said immediately, looking back at the editor's eyes, his face turned green, "I mean very busy ..."

"..." The editor glared at him. "Wait in my office. There are some details about this report that need to be discussed."

Ken nodded, and the editor retracted his head.

After a moment of silence on the phone, Kent whispered, "Tell me, Bruce, I'm fine-believe me."

There was no movement in the handset.

"Don't hang up!" Kent said.

"..." The man on the phone finally said, "The clown is at the Olivia Comprehensive Recreation Center in Los Angeles. I need you to help me see his movements."

Kent frowned slightly, but wasn't surprised: "He's jailbroken?"

"... Not yet." The voice on the phone sounded tired, "Mr. Warden said he was sent to the playground to volunteer, and I need to ensure the safety of the people nearby."

Kent: "........."

For a moment he didn't know how to respond.

clown? Volunteer? Did Batman learn to joke?

"You know," the person across the phone seemed to say something difficult, "after all, you've also seen Mr. Warden."

Kent: "..."

"Kent!" The editor's voice came from the room.

Kent held his forehead and said, "I see, Bruce." Then he raised his voice a little more: "--I see, Perry!"

Opposite Mr. Wayne: "..."

Twenty minutes later, Kent hurriedly walked out of the editor's office and glanced at his watch. He nodded as he passed Louise's position and turned into the nearby men's bathroom.

He walked into the innermost compartment, opened the window and looked out, closed his eyes for a moment, and slowly took off his glasses.

Everything was as usual in the prison at this time, and Zhang Dianyu was sitting on his sofa and meditating like every day-studying the movement of each prisoner against the map.

Since he played Sycostone, he has gradually discovered something he has ignored. The prisoners in the prison belong to several gangs, and there are almost no idle people. They will soon be killed or bullied by others and eventually belong to a certain force.

If you want to turn off the free fire and maintain order in the prison, you need to find the gang leader and intimidate them and control their dynamics.

It sounds simple, but it's actually not that easy-the gangsters will automatically flow to the more powerful gangs and fight each other to eliminate dissidents.

If the warden intervenes in the fight between them, it is likely to cause greater trouble.

But this matter is not in a hurry, what is important is the movement of the clowns and Likert. Zhang Dianyu felt a little puzzling about their behavior, because they didn't do anything-this is really puzzling for the two perverted murderers.

After breakfast time, the two returned to their respective cells. The clown is sitting on the bed with a deck of playing cards-this is what Zhang Dianyu saw on the map. In fact, he speculated that he was probably playing cards.

Yes, after a month of struggle, Zhang Dianyu finally gave the clown the poker cards he wanted.

But it's not free.

There have been shops in prisons open to prisoners. Of course, the salesperson is also a prisoner in labor. And the things sold inside are several times more expensive than the outside, and playing cards are dozens of times more expensive.

This unit price was specifically requested by Zhang Dianyu, because he didn't like the prisoners playing cards in the prison-after all, playing cards easily breeds contradictions. On more than one occasion, the prisoners are playing in a ball, and even a bloodshed has occurred.

Zhang Dianyu slowly asked a question mark at the scene.

Just playing a card, are these violent people a little too excited?

Since then, Zhang Dianyu has directly increased the price of playing cards by dozens of times-the effect is significant, for a long time no one bought this black-hearted playing card, except for the clown.

Compared to the clown and the poker cards that he couldn't help but admire, Likert was much quieter. He was reading.

The most famous ogre and infamous serial killer, the most things he did in prison-except for detention and confinement-were reading and writing, and maybe psychology papers, but Zhang Dianyu did not intend to give him a chance .

He felt that those outside were really crazy.

Posts are delivered by the post office every day in the prison. Workers move the parcels to the mail reception room, and there are also inmates in labor responsible for distributing the letters.

Since the news of Hannibal Lecter's transfer to the prison spread, Zhang Dianyu received many letters from major newspapers, admirers, and psychological publications. He even threw it into the trash can without seeing it. .

Is it important to keep the dog's head in the pursuit of knowledge? These people are not afraid of being mentally polluted when they read the ogre's dissertation.

time flies. Zhang Dianyu looked at the to-do list in the upper left corner. There was an amusement park to count down the hours of the prisoners.

At the moment when the countdown finally came to zero, a colorful van with a painted exterior came in from the edge of the map, and it seemed to carry the words Olivia Comprehensive Amusement Center.

This is a makeup van for pick-up and drop-off performers, and the clowns and Likert can dress up and work smoothly before arriving at the amusement park.

The content of this labor service order requires two volunteers, one of whom needs to be a clown and give balloons to each child who enters the park at the gate of the amusement park.

The other is to play a zombie at the door for amusement park haunted houses that provide charity funds to solicit customers and take photos with tourists.

Zhang Dianyu thinks that both can play in their own right, which is good.

As everyone knows, when receiving the list of volunteers, the director of the amusement park was unconscious for 15 minutes and was almost sent to an ambulance.

As the van of the amusement park slowly stopped at the prison's grim gate, the two previous guards also entered the morgue, handcuffed the clown and Liket, and escorted them into the car.

Zhang Dianyu watched the colorful van leave the area of ​​the map and suddenly felt uncomfortable.

He was used to monitoring the dynamics of all prisoners from the map, and it seemed that everything was under control.

However, the labor orders outside the prison far exceeded his sight.

Although he wasn't surprised by what happened-his supervisor should have arrived at the scene anyway, but it didn't seem that simple.

Zhang Dianyu couldn't help but stand up from the sofa and stood in place with the clipboard in his hand for a while, then slowly recovered, and took a few steps in the office.

Coincidentally, Banner found his head at this time and said, "Mr. Warden?" He asked hesitantly, "Do you feel a little more ... do you have a walk in place?"

Zhang Dianyu looked at Banner and felt puzzled.

Banner seemed to understand the same. He shook his head and muttered in a low voice: "Mr. Warden has started to circle again, I don't know how long this time ..."

Zhang Dianyu: "..."

Is he so much like hanging up now?

He thought of Sycostone. His prisoner's vest had already been released from the confinement room at this time, but Joyce entered the confinement room and Secostone became much safer-although the culprit may be Hannibal, he now lives with the clown. Next door, I'm afraid I don't have time to engage in Secostone.

After all, prisons are free during the day. They were theoretically living next door, but the cell door was not closed. The two of them are roommates.

From this morning to now, they have been roommates for an hour, and they are fine.

Zhang Dianyu didn't know whether to regret or be relieved-but this time they deliberately let them out, but had to summon Batman for the safety of the guards and others, and it is estimated that they are unlikely to escape.

I hope they can arouse their longing for outside the prison and pretend to be a corpse as soon as possible-thought Zhang Dianyu.

The Olivia Comprehensive Amusement Center is open to the public every day at 10 o'clock in the morning, but the staff who come to pick up people clearly know who they are facing, and they shake their hands even more than Dr. Stranger during makeup. .

The clown was not very happy: "You are not very professional, my lady."

The makeup artist cried.

The clown tilted her head and looked at her for a moment: "I want to kill you--"

Although the faces of the two guards remained unchanged, they took out all of them and turned to the clown.

The clown grinned at one of the guards-exactly behind the man named Adams-and made a mysterious movement to wipe his neck.

Liket smiled back.

The clown snapped: "It's boring."

The driver didn't know what was happening behind him, and the van arrived at the amusement park on time.

Under the threat of death, the makeup artist seemed to have erupted into a rare control, successfully dressing the two as zombies and clowns-the latter does not seem to require too much troublesome grooming.

The clown grinned into the mirror with satisfaction, took the bunch of balloons to be distributed, and happily bowed to the surroundings.

The amusement center controlled the room. The director stepped anxiously and yelled at the phone: "What is not necessary to be on the police-do you watch the news?"

"Sorry, sir, we have been informed that all this is in compliance with the regulations, please do not get excited."

There seemed to be some helplessness on the phone, and some whispered inaudibly.

The director dropped his arm in despair.

At 10 o'clock, the gate of the amusement park opens slowly. The fantastic castle and the thrilling roller coaster are looming behind the dense canopy. A clown dressed as a man stands at the door, holding a bunch of balloons in his hand, slightly tilted his head and looked at The crowd pouring into the paradise.

He grinned.

A few children looked at the colorful balloons in the air and shouted happily, dragging their parents to the clown.

The clown grinnedly took a piglet Page from the middle and handed it to the first little boy who ran to him.

"My little warrior, congratulations on your reward-can you tell me your name?"

"Jack ..." the boy said, scared, holding the balloon rope tightly in his hands, not looking up at the clown.

Clowns are the psychological shadow of little children.

His mother seemed a little sorry, smiled at the clown, and shoved the boy all over again.

Another child squeezed to the clown and raised his hand high: "Mr. Clown, would you please give me a balloon?"

"Of course." The clown was out of breath, and picked one from a bunch of balloons in his hand as the child asked.

Time passed slowly and everything seemed to be peaceful.

Until a young mother wondered for a moment about the balloon handed over by the clown. After taking the rope politely, he hesitated for a moment, and suddenly glanced at his face.

The clown tilted her head and met her eyes with a smile.

The young mother became flustered. She lowered her head to exit the crowd, quietly took out her mobile phone, and took a photo covertly.

However, the clown's eyes suddenly passed through the crowd, accurately capturing her actions. He looked at her and laughed, "I like you-you are so smart."

The young mother's face 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 burst out and floated into the air.

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