"You bastard! Do you think I'll fall for that again?"

  Just moments ago, a metallic fist hidden in the gift box had punched him squarely in the face. Killer Croc could still feel the throbbing pain, so there was no way he would take Reid's outstretched hand now.

  "You dare reach out to me? Then I'll crush your hand with my teeth!"

  Killer Croc's eyes glinted with bloodthirsty malice as he opened his massive jaws and bit down on Reid's extended hand.

  In an instant, blood spttered everywhere. Reid's hand was crushed to pieces in Killer Croc's jaws.

  "Die, you damn bastard!"

  Killer Croc bellowed. He was certain that the before him would now show a terrified expression after losing a hand ie.

  Surely, this fool had uimated him—a clever crocodile who didn't fall for the handshake trap and instead acted with decisive aggression.

  But when Killer Croc looked at the Joker, he froze. To his astonishment, the showed no pain whatsoever. Instead, he calmly used his remaining hand to pull something out from behind his back.

  The moment, a powerful electribsp;current surged through Killer Croc's mouth and coursed through his entire body.

  "AHHHHH!!!"

  Killer mediately opened his mouth. In the severed hand's palm was a small prank shock device, tinuously emitting an interical charge.

  "You... bastard! Who... pulls pranks like this?!"

  Although it looked like an ordinary prank device from the outside, the electric current it unleashed was incredibly powerful. By the time the current ceased, Killer Croc felt pletely drained, his strength utterly sapped. He colpsed to the ground, and to his horror, a faint aroma of cooked crocodile meat began wafting from his body.

  "Wow, I thought you could ha. Didn't expect you'd almost get cooked." Reid remarked with a look of exaggerated surprise.

  His smug, punchable expressinited Killer Croc's fury, even though his body was drained of strength.

  "Even if I die today, I'll make sure to take you with me!"

  Summoning strength from who-knows-where, Killer ao stand up once more. He spread his massive arms, ready to grab the in front of him.

  But just as his hands reached for Reid, the suddenly pulled anift box from behind and shoved it into Killer Croc's hands.

  "You don't seem to have muergy, so let me help you open it."

  With that, Reid "helpfully" tugged on the ribbon of the gift box. As the box opened, its tents were revealed—a perfectly cartoonish, spherical bomb with a lit fuse, just like something out of an animated show.

  "Good luck." Reid said cheerfully, waving as he stepped back.

  The bomb exploded with a deafening roar. The bst was so massive it shook the entire surrounding sewer system. Even cars passing above grouhe tremors from the explosion.

  "Cough, cough... Maybe I should switch the smoke from the explosions to a strawberry st ime. What do you think?"

  Reid waved his hand, dispersing the thick cloud of smoke left by the explosion.

  Not far from him, Killer Crobsp;sprawled on the ground, his body covered in wounds. Despite the pain, he was straining to stand again.

  "You... despicable, shameless bastard!!!"

  Like Marvel's Dr. Curt ors, the Lizard, Killer Croc also possessed araordinary healing ability. The wounds caused by the electric shod bomb were rapidly closing, and his strength was returning. Slowly, he pushed himself off the ground.

  "I swear, I'll kill you! I'll rip you apart!"

  Reid, unfazed by Croc's furious threats, crouched down, bringing his face level with the enraged reptilian vilin.

  "Buddy, it's your turn now."

  The moment Reid finished speaking, Killer Croc, who had just begun to lunge, tly stopped. A massive hand grabbed his head and smmed it hard into the ground with a thunderous crash.

  "Solomon Grundy! Born on a Monday!!"

  Taking advantage of the chaos caused by the explosion, Solomon Grundy had already approached from behind. His sudden, overwhelming strike left Killer Cropletely incapacitated.

  Helpless and pinned down, Killer Croc could only gre hatefully at Reid. Meanwhile, Reid casually stood up, brushed the dust off his pants, and gave an almost pyful smirk, as if enjoying the spectacle.

  "Oh my, oh my! Our new friend seems a little upset. Solomon, what do you think we should do about it?"

  Though it seemed like Reid was asking Solomon, it was clear he was mostly talking to himself. Before Solomon could even respond, Reid had already decided on a course of a.

  With a dramatic flourish, he pulled out a bottle of dies' perfume. However, the liquid inside was an uling, pulsating green.

  "e now, my friend, let's put a smile on that face..."

  With a devilish grin, Reid sprayed the green gas directly onto Killer Croc's face.

  At first, inhaling the strange gas seemed to have no effect. But slowly, its influence began to take hold.

  "Haha... hahaha... HAHAHA!!!"

  Killer Croc's face remained torted with anger, yet his mouth betrayed him, curling into an untrolble smile as bursts of ughter erupted against his will.

  "HAHAHAHA!!"

  Reid gestured for Solomon to release Killer Crod despite being free, ade no move to attack.

  The reason was simple: he was ughing. Laughing untrolbly, with every ounce of strength in his massive body dedicated to the act.

  The green gas had taken over pletely, f every fiber of his being to prepare fhter. He could still think—his mind burning with fury—but he had no trol over his body.

  He couldn't stand, couldn't stop, and worst of all, he couldn't evehe.

  In his desperate ughter, he had fotten how to draw a breath.

  "HAHAHAHA!!"

  "HAHAHAHA!!!"

  As Killer Croc's ughter grew more frantid desperate, Reid couldn't help but join in, bursting into his own maniacal ughter as if the chaos was a delightful performance meant solely for him.

  The sound of their ughter echoed through the sewer, but the trast was stark—one was a genuine, gleeful cackle, while the other was a desperate wail, the st cry of a soul teetering on the edge of colpse.

  Of course, Killer Croc wouldn't die. Reid had no iion of letting that happen. He wanted Croc alive, molded into a loyal enforcer to carry out his bidding.

  …...

  Above the sewer, at a Maroni's Bar

  Ihe dimly lit bar, tensions were high. Gang members affiliated with the Maroni and Fale families had gotten into a drunken brawl.

  Sihe bar was Maroory, the Fale thugs were outnumbered and quickly overpowered. Baseball bats, beer bottles, and golf clubs became makeshift ons as they mercilessly beat down the Falembers.

  Gradually, the beaten men's resistance grew weaker. It seemed like they were moments away from being bludgeoo death.

  At that moment, the door burst open with a loud kick, revealing a middle-aged man with gsses and a determined gre. His handgun was raised, aimed directly at the attackers.

  "EVERYOHT NOW!"

  The man was James Gordon, a newly transferred police captain from Chicago, still unfamiliar with the dark, twisted ways of Gotham City. Driven by his unwavering belief in justice, he had stumbled upon this se of violend, despite knowing this was gangory, had charged in to put ao it.

  "Huh? What's this about? Did someone call the cops?" one of Maroni's goons asked, peering out the door.

  "No one's out there…" another muttered, fused.

  The gangsters didn't show Gordon the slightest shred of respect. To them, cops were less useful than the average passerby oreet.

  "I SAID, STOP!" Gordon shouted again, his voice firm and unyielding.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Three gunsh out, sileng the room. The gang members froze, startled by the officer's audacity. They quickly realized this newer was clueless about Gotham's unwritten rules, a head who didn't uand how things worked in their city.

  "Now." Gordon anded, his voice ice-cold, "Everyone, hands on your heads, a down on the ground!"

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