Joker

The city had spent the entire week talking about only one thing: you.

Every news channel, every police scanner, every frantic reporter seemed obsessed with the same mystery. No one knew your name. No one knew your face. Security footage always glitched, witnesses always contradicted each other, and by the time the police arrived, you were already gone.

In seven days, you'd caused more chaos than some Gotham criminals managed in months. Blackouts swallowed entire city blocks. Millions disappeared from accounts only to reappear scattered across random citizens. A mayoral fundraiser turned into complete pandemonium after every guest received a file exposing their darkest secrets. It was unpredictable, reckless, and strangely brilliant.

And that was exactly why you caught Joker's attention.

The first time he saw you wasn't in person. It was through a television screen flickering inside his nightclub. The room was loud with music and laughter, but Joker wasn't listening. His tattooed fingers drummed against the armrest as the news replayed footage of your latest stunt.

The reporter called you dangerous. The police called you a threat.

Joker just grinned. For the first time in a long time, Gotham had produced something interesting.

One of his men sawllows, "Mr. J, should we find them?"

He leans back in his chair, he watched the screen until your image disappeared.

Then he laughed, a slow, amused laugh.

"Yes, absolutely." he murmured, silver-capped teeth flashing beneath a wicked smile. "They seem too fun to just skip."

And suddenly, finding you became far more entertaining than anything else happening in the city.