DC & Marvel: This Guy Is Crazy

Chapter 164: Allen Beats the Batman Who Laughs to a Pulp

"Ah-dah!"

Before the Batman Who Laughs could regain his bearings, Allen launched a surprise kick.

His foot smashed squarely into the dazed Batman Who Laughs's head. Then, grabbing a chunk of rubble, Allen declared, "Happy New Year—here's your welcome gift."

BANG!

The rubble shattered even further.

The Batman Who Laughs's eyes rolled back as the world around him spun.

"Beep boop beep boop… Dr. Allen reporting in!"

Allen raised both hands, as if seeking approval from his left and right.

"Nurse Right, long time no see. Let's save the cuddling for tonight—too many people around, I'm a little shy."

"Oh hey, isn't that my ex, Nurse Left? That black rubber glove is super sexy. Shame we broke up."

Once the nostalgic reunion with Left and Right was over, Allen turned serious. "Patient symptoms: extreme extroversion complex. An exceptionally rare case. I've decided to proceed with physical therapy."

"Nurse Right, you're suggesting a thirty-minute session? Noted."

"Nurse Left, you disagree and recommend compound physical therapy? Very well."

"…"

As the Batman Who Laughs slowly regained some clarity, he saw the man talking to his hands like a full-blown lunatic.

He was stunned. The world in front of him felt completely off.

According to the plan, the Dark Knights were supposed to occupy the Justice League's heavy hitters while he worked behind the scenes to execute his schemes—eventually leading to the Dark Multiverse overtaking the entire universe.

After all, the Dark Knights had conquered countless positive matter universes. Most of them went down without a fight. As the Batman Who Laughs, a high-ranking member, he usually didn't even need to get involved directly.

But now, he felt a burning gaze.

The Batman Who Laughs turned to see Allen grinning down at him.

"What are you—?"

"Justice Slam."

Before he could finish, Allen hoisted him up by the leg and slammed him into the ground.

All the while, he kept muttering, "Are you stupid? Don't you know this story has a comedic tone? What are you doing trying to spread fear?"

WHAM!

"Shit! You dare mess with the Bat under my protection? You trying to disrespect the main character?"

BANG BANG!!

"Holy crab cakes, riddle me this: if you're the ancestor of the Court of Owls, why isn't it the Court of Bats? Owls can't give birth to bats—basic biology, man."

BANG BANG BANG!!!

"Bullshit! I see you cosplaying my Joker Robin. You damn bootleg—support the official release!"

BANG BANG BANG…

"Motherf—do you even know how the universe began?"

BANG BANG BANG…

"It all started from one joke expanding infinitely into countless punchlines, forming the macroscopic universe."

BANG BANG BANG…

"So clearly, grimdark punk has no future. Only the comedy genre creates main characters."

…

The beating was relentless—one slam after another.

Allen slammed the Batman Who Laughs into the ground, leaving craters in his wake.

Whew...

Letting out a long breath, Allen felt a tinge of exhaustion.

He had to admit—the Batman Who Laughs could really take a hit. A regular person would've been in pieces by now. This guy? Looked almost unfazed, maybe just a mild concussion.

"Heh heh heh…"

The Batman Who Laughs sneered, still defiant. "Let me tell you something. In your positive matter universe, there's no way to kill me. Even if you do, I'll just resurrect in the antimatter universe."

SHNK!

Allen yanked the Redemption Blade from the Batman Who Laughs's thigh.

The villain looked at the bleeding wound and asked, "What the hell is that?"

"The Blade of Lockjaw."

SHNK!

Allen stabbed the other thigh without hesitation.

As suspected—the Redemption Blade was crafted from a unique material, on par with the five metals capable of harming beings from the Dark Multiverse.

Yes, there are only five: Amber Gold, Dionesium, N-Metal, Promethium, and Bat-Metal—all infused with dark matter, capable of wounding the Batman Who Laughs.

"I told you, I can revive in the antimatter universe."

SHNK SHNK SHNK…

Allen completely ignored him, just kept stabbing hole after bloody hole into the guy.

"So damn hard to kill?"

He stared at the Batman Who Laughs, now riddled with over a hundred wounds, blood spraying like a fountain—and yet, still no signs of weakness.

Allen stroked his chin. "Should I try hitting you on a mental level instead?"

"Heh heh heh… don't bother. The longer the Dark Knights stay, the more stable the coordinates for the Dark Universe become. Soon, even more Dark Batmen will arrive—and you'll be crushed in despair."

The Batman Who Laughs lay sprawled out, bleeding freely, yet still radiating madness.

"I've got it!"

Allen looked around and called out, "Arthur! Joker Robin! Come here—I've got a question."

"Coming!"

Arthur peeked out from behind a pile of rubble and ran over. "Boss, what do you need?"

"Is there an antidote for the Laughing Virus you made?"

The Batman Who Laughs was born from being infected with the Joker's Laughing Virus, which fractured his mind and created a Joker persona.

So Allen had a flash of inspiration—maybe neutralizing the virus could bring him back to sanity.

"Boss, what are you saying?"

Arthur looked genuinely hurt. "I barely graduated high school. Isn't researching viruses a bit much to ask?"

"Damn, you're the most illiterate Joker I've ever met. Just stick to being Joker Robin—it's a way more promising career."

"That's so mean—heh heh heh…"

Since he couldn't count on Joker Arthur, Allen decided to handle it himself.

The Batman Who Laughs sneered, "You? Make an antidote? The virus stumped even me!"

"Who said anything about making you an antidote?"

Allen grinned darkly. "I have an idea—just a little unrefined, heh heh heh…"

In that moment, the Batman Who Laughs actually felt a chill from that smile.

Elsewhere, the Justice League had all vanished—only Green Arrow, Oliver Queen, remained, silently watching Allen beat the Batman Who Laughs into the ground.

Truth be told, the moment the Dark Knights arrived, Oliver hadn't dared to make a move. Not a single enemy looked like someone he could take on. Fortunately, none of them had paid him any mind.

"Hey, Ollie!"

"It's Oliver, Allen."

"Whatever—Olliegive."

Allen waved him over. "Do me a favor. I'm about to solo the entire Dark Knight Army."

"You!?"

Oliver looked doubtful. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"Bro, I'm not even flexing yet. Those misfits? I haven't even bothered using 30% of my power. I've got ten thousand plans just off the top of my head." Allen stood proudly on the Batman Who Laughs, hands on his hips, boasting shamelessly.

"Really?" Oliver asked, astonished.

"Of course not. I'm not sitting on the Mobius Chair—how could I come up with ten thousand strategies in one thought?"

Allen said seriously, "I'm just mentally ill. Not the god of mental illness."

Oliver didn't dwell on that, instead cutting straight to the point. "What do you want me to do?"

"Head to Batsy's Batcave. I'll contact you later with instructions."

Allen hoisted the Batman Who Laughs. "First, I've got to go treat the Batman of another universe—help him rediscover truth, goodness, and beauty."

As the Midnight Bruisers and the Comedy Troupe departed, Oliver hesitated, then pulled out his phone to call the rest of the Justice League and make the necessary arrangements.

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