I, Joker (2)

"What did you think?" Schiller standing by the table asked.

"What do you mean?" Schiller took a sip of wine, then set the glass down on the table with a crisp clink. Looking up at the other him by the table, he said, "That guy tried to run off again and got played?"

"That was pretty funny…" Schiller took a few steps back, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, and said, "But what I’m more curious about is whether he worked so tirelessly to climb up there just so he could go out and have fun?"

Schiller, who had been sitting in the chair, did not move. Instead, he stood up.

The light focused on the wineglass. A bubble that had just formed at the bottom of the transparent glass drifted lazily upward, only to freeze the instant it reached the surface, turning into a solid pearl.

As he took a step forward, Joker, still locked in his frozen pose, retreated along with his chair. The table slid away to the left, the cabinet glided to the right, and the entire room came apart as though construction were playing in reverse. Everything was pulled away, leaving only a vast white space.

Then, as Schiller looked up, a lamp lit. Black flooring spread out beneath his feet, and in a blur, he looked down past the railing into the deep well. The Schiller who had been standing beside him had already reached several floors below.

"Do you know where I’m going?" Schiller asked.

"Aren’t you planning to go to the 300th floor and borrow the elevator first?"

"You guessed that too? You know me pretty well."

"Thank you. We are the same person, after all."

Schiller quickened his pace and went down to walk shoulder to shoulder with his other self. Holding the railing, the two slowly descended the spiral staircase together. As they walked, the other Schiller said, "Seriously, when are we switching places? I want to stay in DC for a couple of days too."

"You think this is tourism? Setting everything else aside, are you sure your mental stability can handle the patients here?"

"You think this is like dealing with Peter Parker over in Marvel? This is the first time I’ve seen someone complain that their job is too easy."

Schiller shrugged. "Don’t say that. There are plenty of headaches over there too. Don’t forget, that whole Asgard family business is far from over."

After walking down for a long time, Schiller turned right. There was only one corridor ahead, and only one room in that corridor. Schiller walked over and knocked on the door. His own voice came from inside. "Come in."

The two Schillers entered one after the other and saw another version of themselves buried beneath a mountain of documents. Seeing visitors, that Schiller set a stack of papers aside and said, "Why did you two come together? Don’t tell me there’s more work to deal with."

"No, there isn’t. We just wanted to borrow the elevator."

Schiller covered his forehead helplessly. "What’s going on lately? Why does everyone love taking the elevator?"

Then he complained, "Everyone knows I’m busy, and everyone comes to bother me. When I saw you two walk in, I almost suffocated."

"Who told you to be the ‘Ego’? And also the Mind Palace’s chief steward and gatekeeper…"

"And elevator Administrator," Schiller said irritably. Then he waved a hand, and the two of them arrived in a somewhat cramped room. A little boy was kneading a blob of gray slime in his arms.

One of the Schillers walked over, crouched down, and rubbed the boy’s head. "Do you know where the green-haired one went?"

The boy silently shook his head, but the gray slime in his arms made gurgling noises. Schiller picked up the soft blob of slime, stroked the place that was presumably its head, and asked, "Gray Mist, did you see him?"

The gray slime squeaked twice. Holding it in both hands, Schiller pulled it slightly away and asked in confusion, "What’s wrong? Did spending too much time playing with the ‘Id’ make you forget how to talk?"

The gray slime froze for a moment, then said, "Oh, I can talk… He seemed to have gone to a lower floor, and he brought another green-haired person with him."

Schiller stuffed Gray Mist back into the boy’s arms, patted his head, then stood and said to his other self, "Looks like he was determined to get out. Too bad he failed."

"Elevator or stairs?"

"Stairs, of course. That busybody is already sick of us."

Just as they left the room and returned to the spiral staircase, a figure in a long trench coat came up toward them, holding an umbrella. He looked up, saw the two versions of himself descending, and said, "Why are you two here? Together, too?"

"You should be asking yourself that. How did you let that guy in? He nearly got into the room."

The green-haired Schiller sighed. "If he moved in, I could go out and have fun. Too bad it didn’t work. He created a Bruce Joker, fought me using my memories, then ran away…"

One Schiller looked at the other. "Has he always wanted to run outside that badly?"

"That’s right. Didn’t you know?… Oh, right. You were born later than I was, so you wouldn’t know."

"When I first came to this world, the Superego created me. But the first time I went out at night, I became that guy…"

"Then he could only create another one, which was me. But instead of staying in his perfectly good home, that guy kept trying to run outside every few days…"

"Several times, he deliberately tried to attract Bruce’s attention. Things only got a little better after I returned to my place."

"I really don’t understand you DC people." The other Schiller shook his head.

"Are you done talking? If you are, stop blocking me. I still need to go up," the green-haired Schiller said.

"What are you going up for? The person you wanted to trick has already left. Don’t tell me you still want to chase him out?"

The green-haired Schiller said impatiently, "You don’t seriously think you can handle that lunatic outside by yourself, do you? The Superego told me to go up and talk to him…"

The two Schillers standing on the upper steps looked at each other. One asked the other, "People can’t lie here, right?"

"Theoretically, yes. But that guy is completely unhinged, so I have no idea what’s going on with him."

At that moment, a voice echoed through the spiral staircase. "I sent him. Stop chatting. We’re almost out of wine."

"We’re almost out of wine." Schiller shook the bottle and poured the last bit of wine into his glass. Across from him, Jack clicked his tongue in displeasure. "I bought that wine. The last bit should have been saved for me."

"Give me a break. That disgusting thing you made just turned the floor where I live into a complete mess. A Bruce Wayne in Joker makeup… It was revolting," Schiller said with disgust.

Jack said unhappily, "Didn’t you create that concept first in order to provoke my fear?"

"You wanted to trick me into entering your Mind Palace and serving your sentence for you. Hmph…" Jack sneered twice.

"And…" Jack pouted, wearing a disdainful expression. "You actually can’t control his Mind Palace."

Schiller gave him a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Why don’t we switch places? You can try."

Jack’s expression stiffened for a moment. "No. I just went in there for a tour…"

Then he looked at his wineglass and laughed. "Building a tower more than 330 floors high inside your own Mind Palace, then dividing every floor by star rating, score, membership level, and access tier, while setting up thousands of traps on every single step of every floor…"

"He says he’s an ordinary person. Hahahahahaha, that’s the funniest joke I’ve heard recently…"

Schiller sighed. "Can you imagine how I climbed to the 190th floor? If the elevator Administrator hadn’t opened a back door for me, I’d still be struggling up the stairs…"

"Enough about that. Do you know where the other me is?" Jack asked.

"How would I know? I thought it was Evans, but Batman didn’t choose him, so apparently it wasn’t him. The remaining one couldn’t really be inside Batman, could he?"

Jack’s expression suddenly darkened. "He’d better not be. Otherwise, I’ll tie Batman up here, crack open his skull, and drag that damned bastard out…"

"I haven’t checked the version of me who fell into the chemical vat or the one from the circus yet, but he was probably born under one of those circumstances. If you find him, what are you going to do? Kill him?"

Jack stared into Schiller’s eyes. "If your situation weren’t so troublesome, I would have killed you long ago."

"That won’t be necessary," Schiller concluded. "Even if you don’t kill me, I can’t do anything. I still have more than a hundred floors to climb and over two hundred thousand steps to walk. By the time I reach the conscious mind, Batman may have already died of old age."

"But I might not be the worst off…" Schiller said with a touch of glee. "Tell me, if some poor bastard was really born inside Batman, what would that be like?"

The corners of Jack’s mouth slowly lowered, but Schiller smiled and said, "Why are you being so serious?"

"There’s another you merged with the person you love most. Why aren’t you happy? After all, that’s also you."

Jack said very unhappily, "Merged with Batman? Don’t be ridiculous. Anyone who dresses up as a bat is the real freak!"

"Alright, I’m going back to climbing stairs. Good luck to you. Seriously, my place is pretty big. Aren’t you going to come stay for a while?"

Jack rolled his eyes, drained the last sip from his glass, and said nothing.

Schiller leaned back against his chair and turned to look at the other Schiller beside him, who stood there with his arms crossed. He waved a hand. "I think I can work a little longer. What do you think?"

"The Superego told you to go back. Otherwise, just wait for him to kick you down to the first floor again."

"Fine. What a pain. See you later."

Schiller moved his chair forward slightly. Looking at the completely empty wine bottle, he said to Jack, "Thank you for the drink, but I still have to say it: the cheap wine you bought was awful."

Jack covered half his face with One Hand, while the other half wore a slightly crazed smile. "What did you put in the wine?"

"What?"

"Don’t play dumb… I can feel every brain cell in my body boiling. Aren’t you the same?"

Schiller paused, then said, "Fine, but it wasn’t poison. On the contrary, it was wine too…"

Schiller took out a small bottle and placed it in the center of the table. Jack and Schiller both focused their gazes on it. Then Schiller reached out and pushed the bottle toward Jack, continuing, "…and it was the best wine in the world."