Unfortunately, Joker miscalculated.
Shiller's human disguise was more perfect than he had imagined. He actually started to concern himself with the potential impact on housing prices that a major bank robbery could have on the surrounding community, just like a dreadfully ordinary person would.
Joker came to see Shiller today because he knew that even if Shiller knew what he was going to do, he wouldn't stop him, simply because Shiller truly didn't care how many people died.
As long as Joker informed him in advance and Shiller did not prevent it, then when a chain of repercussions backfired on Shiller, he could only blame himself.
After all, he had been warned in advance. If he had prevented it, there wouldn't have been so much trouble, right?
Joker often used this tactic against Batman. Even though Joker was the one doing evil, Batman, knowing in advance, did not stop it due to various personal gains or relationships. Afterwards, Batman would doubt himself.
Joker knew how to shake a person because he knew exactly what everyone wanted. Shiller wasn't suited for his current life, felt anxious, so Joker offered him a free pass. After all, Shiller had no morals, could solve all problems without sacrificing anything—who wouldn't choose that?
Caught between "yes" and "no," Shiller chose "maybe." He wouldn't stop the bank robbery for moral reasons, but he would for the sake of housing prices.
This disgusted Joker deeply.
He could understand a hero stopping him for their naive idealism, he could understand a cop stopping him due to duty, but he couldn't stand a regular person stopping him for money.
Because if that were the case, the situation would become farcical.
He could have a dialogue with a hero about justice and evil, he could have a dialogue with a cop about duty and avoidance, but he couldn't have a discussion with a regular person about the terms of a housing contract, fluctuations in housing price indices, and the stability of the property market—it was too much like financial news.
Moreover, in such a scenario, Joker might not know more about the property market than a regular person, making that average Joe seem like a financial expert while Joker would be like someone in a studio with nothing to say, just filling time.
And what's worse, the guest commentator from outside during the call-in segment would damn well be Bruce Wayne.
He couldn't keep thinking about it; the mere thought of discussing the property market and stocks with Bruce Wayne gave Joker the creeps.
Still unable to find Shiller's weakness, Joker held his breath in frustration, but he was never one to suffer in silence. He needed to vent, and he would do it tonight.
If he couldn't make an example of Shiller one way, he would ruin his housewarming party. He knew all too well how timid and weak these sheep were. Just one brutal murder case, showing them that a terrifying serial killer was lurking nearby, would scare them into not daring to step out of their houses for half a month.
A figure walked past the alleyway.
Joker followed.
He didn't care in the slightest if the person noticed him; after all, they couldn't shake him off.
Under the dim light of the streetlamps, Joker saw that the man walking in front of him was a slightly emaciated bald man with a steady gait but a tired posture, as if he had just finished work.
He seemed to be a school staff member, but ordinary school staff wouldn't be this busy, so he was probably a principal or something, possibly of a nearby elementary or middle school, or maybe even a university.
It would be great if he were the principal of Gotham University, Joker whimsically thought. He would hang the corpse at the school to scare those little brats into not daring to attend classes for a few days. Shiller's expression would certainly be priceless.
So, he followed the man from a distance, tailing him to his house. The man reached out to unlock the door, while Joker stood far away, motionless, maintaining a distance where he could accurately aim a handgun, half-hidden in the shadows.
He did this to exert psychological pressure; he knew that when people were afraid, they made more mistakes, panicked, fell apart, screamed, but never managed to take effective self-defensive actions.
Joker loved to watch his prey crumble. He relished chaos and, after all, the night was still young; he had plenty of time to play with this guy.
The doorbell of Shiller's house rang.
At that moment, Shiller, who had just returned home and gotten ready for bed in his pajamas, opened the bedroom door just to see Raven running up the stairs.
Seeing her panicked expression, Shiller immediately noticed she was hiding something. Raven was just about to speak when Shiller gestured for her to be quiet.
Shiller walked slowly down the stairs and peered through the peephole, only to see a pale, panic-stricken figure outside the door.
It was the mailman.
Opening the door, Shiller found the mailman, somewhat weak, leaning against it and saying, "Sir, someone attacked me, they tampered with my mailbag, and it's full of letters you sent. This might put you in danger."
Shiller's mind raced, and he immediately knew who was behind it—it had to be Joker's backup plan, probably to frame him for the bank heist.
The method was simple too, just kill everyone on the list of people he had sent letters to. Even if the police couldn't find enough evidence, they would definitely suspect him. Once Gordon knew about this, it wasn't just a matter for him anymore.
Shiller opened the door wider to let the mailman come in. He was clutching a crumpled bag, the very one he used to collect items in the neighborhood during the day.
Shiller turned on all the lights in the house, gave Raven a "we'll talk about your issue later" look, then said to her, "I remember there's a first aid kit in the upstairs bathroom, go find it."
Raven gave Shiller a glance, feeling a bit uneasy, but ultimately followed his instructions and went upstairs. She heard the rustling sounds of conversation from below; it seemed the mailman was recounting his ordeal.
As Raven searched for the first aid kit, she caught some of the conversation with one ear; it was just the mailman talking about how he had been grabbed, dragged into an alley, and knocked out. The attacker had come from behind, so he never saw their face.
When the mailman woke up, he thought he had been robbed, but he hadn't lost anything. Realizing he was running out of time to deliver the mail, he decided to hurry and continue his rounds.
Most of the items in the bag were letters from Shiller. Already feeling frantic and pressed for time, the mailman hurriedly delivered the letters to each household. It was only when he was almost done and checked the letters at the bottom that he noticed they had been tampered with.
Only then did he realize the purpose might have been Shiller's letters, but by then, they had already been sent out, and he couldn't just go and reopen the mailboxes to retrieve them.
This was a serious mistake in his job because he hadn't protected the letters, and he hadn't noticed the breach immediately, continuing to deliver the compromised mail.
If someone with bad intentions had placed explosives or dangerous substances inside those letters, he would be finished. Even without that, just the fact that personal letters had been touched or possibly taken was enough to cost him his job.
"I didn't dare to come to you at first," the mailman said, trembling slightly, "If you report me, I will lose my job. It's the only one I have, and without it, I can't support my family."
"After the post office received the letters, they would be recorded. I went back and found the record, checked it with my memory, and thought nothing was missing. At that time, I thought it probably wasn't a big deal."
"But then, I suddenly remembered that I didn't deliver to the house at the very end of the street, since I usually do a full round before delivering to them separately. That day, after finishing the main street, I went back, completely forgetting about that house."
"And I don't have any letters for that house in my bag. Did you send them any letters?" the mailman asked hopefully.
Shiller remembered the name Xi Wana on the house number he had passed earlier. He had indeed written a letter to Xi Wana. This meant that the letter he sent might have been lost, or more likely, taken by Joker.
The reason was probably quite simple: when sending letters, Shiller noticed that most of the neighbors had common surnames like Johnson or Wilson, except for the distinctive name Xi Wana.
If Joker intended to frame him, he would certainly have taken that letter.
Shiller wanted to tell the mailman that he hadn't sent any letters, to put his mind at ease about a missing letter, because the mailman was no match for Joker. The missing letters were not his fault, and besides, Xi Wana always had bad intentions—let her face the allergy then.
Shiller was about to speak but his eyes landed on the mailman's tight grip on his mailbag.
If he had only remembered the missing letters that afternoon, he should have come by on his way home from work to confess. If he hadn't made up his mind until now, why would he bring his work mailbag with him?
Raven finally found the first aid kit upstairs. As she carried the small box out of the bathroom, she heard a "thud" coming from below.
She stopped, held her breath, and tiptoed cautiously along the second-floor hallway to the stairwell to look down.
The mailman was on the ground, blood seeping from his head, while Shiller stood next to him, holding a blood-stained statue.
The moment he looked up and saw Raven, she shivered.
"Never mind the first aid kit, Miss, go to the kitchen and get a knife."