In the monitoring room.
The Joker's face was a palette of madness and confusion.
He looked at the man in the floral shirt on the screen, then at Superman, who was still struggling to get up after being kicked in the open space outside.
"Cousin?"
The Joker's mind raced.
"Also a Kryptonian? Even better! A buy-one-get-one-free special!"
His morbid excitement once again took over.
One Kryptonian was trouble, but two Kryptonians... wasn't that double the fun?
"First, I'll deal with you, the meddler, then that half-dead little Superman will be at my mercy!"
The Joker stuck out his crimson tongue, licked his lips, and without hesitation, pressed a red button on the control panel that he had prepared long ago.
This contingency plan was originally for Superman.
After Superman personally beat his beloved woman and their unborn child to death, and was consumed by endless regret and pain, this would be used to turn him into a harmless specimen.
Then, he would offer it to that Lord.
"Hiss—"
A sharp hissing sound of gas erupted.
Green, sparkling powder began to furiously gush out from the ventilation ducts of the entire abandoned factory, the sprinkler heads on the ceiling, and even the cracks in the floor.
In an instant, the entire space was filled with this green dust, so dense that one could barely see their hand in front of their face.
The air was filled with a scent that made even Kryptonian genes tremble.
Tel-Rol stood amidst a thick green haze.
He raised his hand, and some green powder fell onto his palm, glinting ominously.
He even stuck out his tongue and tasted it from a distance.
"Pah!"
"What is this? Thumbs down!"
He turned his head and looked at a corner of the factory.
"Hey, you rat hiding in a tin can, you're not coming out, are you?"
"Then I'm coming to find you."
Tel-Rol's voice clearly echoed back to the monitoring room through the microphone.
"Hahahahahahaha!"
Hearing this, the Joker laughed so hard that tears streamed down his face.
"You want to find me? My dear, did you inhale too much Kryptonite dust and fry your brain?"
"I prepared a dose for ten people for you! Enough to take down you and your little cousin, then package you both as a double specimen!"
"Come find me, come find me if you dare, hahahaha!"
The Joker was supremely confident in his hiding place.
It was a shelter completely welded from thick lead plates, and then placed inside a warehouse full of lead materials.
Lead, the bane of Kryptonians' X-ray vision.
Unless Superman could uproot the entire chemical factory and search it inch by inch, no one would ever find his command center, which was layered with lead blocks.
He was the safest director in this farce.
"Boom!!!"
A loud bang interrupted the Joker's maniacal laughter.
The floor beneath him shook.
The smile on the Joker's face froze.
He lowered his head and looked at the smooth lead wall beside him.
On the wall, a clear fist print protruded from the outside.
The twisted metal shape was like a silent mockery.
The Joker was stunned.
He curiously walked over and poked the raised fist print with his finger.
Outside, Tel-Rol's smiling voice faintly drifted in.
"Little pig, little pig, open the door, if you don't open it, I'll crash in~"
As soon as he finished speaking.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two more heavy thuds echoed.
The thick lead wall, sturdy enough to withstand cannon fire, was forcibly punched through, leaving two holes.
The Joker was so scared that he retreated several steps.
Through one of the holes, a pair of blue eyes peered in, slowly scanning the interior of the shelter.
"Johnny's here~"
Tel-Rol's voice carried the cheerfulness of a successful prank.
The Joker's scalp tingled.
All his life, he had been the one to scare others; when had he ever been scared like this?
In that instant, he felt like he wasn't the Joker, but an innocent bystander being hunted by the Joker.
"Kryptonite... useless?!"
This was the first thought that popped into his head.
This was impossible!
The Kryptonite given by that Lord was of superior quality and extremely high radiation; how could it be useless?
Could it be... not enough dosage?
Or was it... "You're not a Kryptonian?!" the Joker shrieked.
Tel-Rol grinned, not answering his question.
He extended a hand through the hole, spread his five fingers, and grabbed the edge of the lead plate.
"Crrraaaack—"
A teeth-grinding sound of twisting metal rang out.
His arm muscles merely flexed slightly, and the lead shelter, weighing tens of tons, was pulled out by him as if it were a toy box buried in sand!
"No! No!"
The Joker completely panicked.
He pulled out his beloved large-caliber revolver and fired a flurry of American-style quick draws at Tel-Rol's extended hand.
"Bang bang bang bang bang!"
He emptied the clip in one breath.
The bullets struck the back of Tel-Rol's hand, leaving not even a white mark, and then "clinked and clanked" to the ground, turning into a pile of scrap metal.
Suddenly!
The Joker felt his entire body lose gravity, his body shot upwards, and with a "thud," his forehead slammed heavily against the ceiling of the shelter.
Stars danced before his eyes.
Tel-Rol lifted the tin can above his head, then, like throwing trash, soared into the sky with it.
Ten thousand meters high.
The wind howled.
The Joker hadn't recovered from the impact when he felt his body lighten again, followed by a rapid descent!
"Thud!!!"
He once again made intimate contact with the hard floor.
He felt as if his bones were about to fall apart.
Then, weightlessness again, rising... "Thud!"
Then, descending... "Thud!"
Tel-Rol, holding the tin can, played this childish game of throwing it up and down at an altitude of ten thousand meters.
Once.
Twice.
Five times.
When Tel-Rol finally got bored and stopped.
He tore open the lead shelter's broken edge with both hands, as if opening a can.
"Rip—"
The heavy lead plates were like paper in his hands, easily torn open to create a huge opening.
The scene inside the can was fully exposed.
The Joker lay in a corner like a pile of mud.
His iconic painted makeup had long since been smeared by sweat and impacts, revealing the terrifyingly pale skin underneath.
In his current state, he didn't even need makeup.
He opened his mouth, seemingly still wanting to let out his characteristic, maniacal laughter.
"Heh... heh..."
He let out two dry laughs, but it pulled at all his injuries, and he couldn't catch his breath, coughing violently.
He couldn't laugh anymore.
Tel-Rol casually tossed the torn tin can aside and hovered in front of the Joker.
He looked down at Gotham's crime lord.
"Hey."
Tel-Rol poked the Joker's cheek with a finger.
"You just said I was your new toy?"
He tilted his head, a bright yet dangerous smile on his face.
"Now, let's talk about you touching my sister-in-law."