Chapter 50: The Death of Robin

In a secret room within the underground pipes of Gotham City, three figures gathered around a round table to discuss the performance.

"Honestly, Waylon, I'm still not quite used to working with you," Batman remarked with a sigh.

"Same here, but hearing that I get to severely humiliate you piqued my interest," Killer Croc glanced sideways at Batman, pulling out a barbed leather whip and giving it a lazy swing. "By the way, I get why you want to draw the Joker into this act, but why did it have to be me?"

"Because the Joker has always looked down on you. Having someone he considers virtually brainless capture me alive will deliver the ultimate psychological blow to him," Batman explained. "And as for me, you have ties with Roland, which made approaching you much easier."

There was another reason—Killer Croc's intelligence was indeed lacking, meaning Batman didn't have to worry about him plotting any complex double-crosses behind his back, though that particular point was better left unsaid.

"Tch, that clown..." Killer Croc loathed anyone implying he lacked brains, but since his IQ wasn't particularly high to begin with, the remark hit a somewhat sensitive nerve.

"All right, let's go over the script," Roland had foregone his priest's cassock this time, opting instead for a vest, jeans, Martin boots, and a baseball cap, while clutching a thick scriptbook.

"You always seem unusually professional when it comes to these bizarre pursuits," Batman muttered.

"Don't interrupt, let's start with this..." Roland cracked open the scriptbook and spoke with the distinct flair of a seasoned director.

March 25th

The Gotham City television station was breached by Killer Croc, who launched a live broadcast with a singular theme—the public execution of Batman at eight o'clock tonight.

On the stage, a towering iron scaffolding had been erected, atop which Killer Croc stood, wielding a massive cleaver the size of a grown man's torso.

Meanwhile, Batman was bound in heavy shackles, motionless upon the execution platform.

"I have to say, if you ever decide to become a director, you might actually have a bit of talent," Harvey and Roland watched the scene unfold quietly from the side. As part of the director's crew, they were responsible for managing the entire production.

"Naturally," Roland said into a walkie-talkie, directing the crew members as they finalized the set decoration.

At 7:00 PM, Killer Croc's broadcast officially went live.

Before long, thrill-seeking spectators began to flood into the building, taking their seats in the auditorium and waiting with bated breath for Killer Croc to carry out the execution of Batman.

"You don't think these people are the Joker's henchmen, do you?" Commissioner Gordon's voice crackled through the comms.

"Probably not," Roland replied, gripping his walkie-talkie. "They look like the sort who just love chaos and spectacle; Gotham has no shortage of people like that... FXXK, why is Jason here?"

"I think I just spotted another familiar face. Isn't that Robin?" Commissioner Gordon pointed out Nightwing, who was currently lurking in a corner wearing his original Robin uniform.

"He's supposed to be in Blüdhaven! How on earth did he get here so fast?" Batman growled softly into the microphone clipped to his collar.

"No big deal, don't forget we have an emergency contingency plan," Roland said, pressing a button inside the control room.

The chair Jason was sitting in suddenly flipped backward, pinning him beneath it as a crew member swiftly emerged, slipped a burlap sack over his head, and hauled him away.

As for Dick Grayson, Roland took matters into his own hands, using Red Letters to freeze his movements before emptying a tranquilizer magazine into him.

"Couldn't you have just told him about our plan?" Commissioner Gordon asked as he helped prop Dick Grayson up.

Roland paused for a moment of reflection. "That wouldn't have felt fun enough."

"...What did you say?"

"Find a lackey to haul him up there. Let's execute a Robin as a warm-up act," Roland instructed. "Use the method I outlined earlier."

"That bloody? Is that really necessary?"

"How else are we going to hook the Joker if it isn't bloody? We need to make him feel like he's about to be replaced," Roland laced his fingers together. "Relax, I've prepared all the props in advance. It looks terrifying, but it's completely harmless."

On stage, two figures dragged the unconscious Dick Grayson into the spotlight, immediately drawing gasps of shock from the audience.

"Haha..." Killer Croc let out a harsh, rasping laugh, raising his microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen! Allow me to introduce our special guest of honor—Batman's trusty sidekick, Robin!"

With that, Killer Croc dragged Batman off to the side of the stage and revived Dick Grayson.

"Mmm-mmph!" Dick Grayson thudded and thrashed, but bound and gaghed, there was nothing he could do.

"Hey, I know everyone's getting impatient, but it's not time for Batman's execution just yet. Whatever shall we do..."

"How about we execute a Robin first as an appetizer? Hahaha..."

Croc laughed maniacally, lifting a heavy crowbar and bringing it down hard against Dick Grayson's body.

Dick Grayson collapsed to the floor, a single thought echoing through his stunned mind.

*Wait... why doesn't that hurt?*

Backstage, Jason watched the scene unfold through a monitor, yet for reasons unknown, he felt a phantom pain radiating all over his body.

A taxi sped toward the station like a bolt of lightning, driven by the Joker, resplendent in his signature purple suit. His eyes were glued to the dashboard television, his teeth grinding with such fury it seemed they might shatter.

On the screen, Dick Grayson was being beaten mercilessly with a crowbar, unable even to stand. Killer Croc tossed him next to Batman and hurled a live grenade at them.

Dick Grayson struggled desperately, throwing his own body over Batman to shield him just as the explosion consumed them in a sheet of fire.

When the flames and smoke finally cleared, only Batman remained, draped in the tattered remains of the Robin uniform.

Killer Croc hauled Batman back onto the execution platform, hoisted the shredded Robin costume on a pole directly in front of him, and scrawled in green paint across the fabric: *HAHAHA JUST KIDDING, BATMAN.*

"Outrageous! Absolute outrage!" The Joker slammed his foot down on the accelerator, his teeth clicking together as he raged like a petty author whose masterpiece had just been plagiarized.

"Damn it, I'm going to turn him into an alligator-skin belt!"

The taxi's engine roared as it tore down the streets of Gotham at breakneck speed, forcing surrounding motorists to swerve frantically out of its path for fear of being crushed.

7:55 PM

Gotham City Television Station

The venue hummed with a restless, noisy energy as the audience chattered excitedly, their anticipation mounting as the appointed hour of execution drew near.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Let the countdown begin!" Killer Croc raised his blade high.

"Why hasn't the Joker arrived yet?" Commissioner Gordon asked, a note of anxiety in his voice. "If he doesn't show up, we won't be able to finish the play."

"Relax, worst-case scenario, I'll go play the hero interrupting the execution," Roland rubbed his hands together. "Still... the Joker shouldn't miss this."

*Bang!*

A deafening crash echoed through the lobby as a vehicle smashed directly through the front doors of the television station. Out stepped a man dressed in a purple suit and green-dyed hair, his lips painted a vivid, bloody red. He strode out of the car, waved cheerfully toward Batman, and shouted, "Surprise! Bird-brain, I'm here to save you!"