Gunshots, shouts, screams, and bank alarms.

The bandit wearing a clown mask and a black hoodie raised his head and took a deep breath, as if he wanted to engrave the smell of blood in the air into his lungs.

He stood on tiptoe like the poorest ballerina and turned around. As the corners of his black hoodie floated, his figure jumped lightly, and sat on the wooden counter in the middle of the hall.

"history!"

The clown rudely patted the wooden counters of Gotham National Bank for a hundred years, and shouted over all the noise: "History is a good thing, ladies and gentlemen, you must remember history."

A total of four other masked bandits with guns jumped out of the back door of the Orange School Bus. They also wore clown masks of different styles on their faces, and the semi-automatic rifles in their hands were aimlessly scattered into the sky. Finally, no one in the hall dared to stand.

The clown, who was the leader, sat on the counter, swayed his legs, tilted his head, and said, "According to the teachings of history, you, as lambs, should all lie on the ground, just like rats in the church, and say nothing, otherwise I will use your blood to decorate the walls, do you understand?"

The humble people lying on the ground like maggots did not respond, and only the alarm that sounded rapidly was left in the huge hall.

Li Ang, hiding in the corner, sighed softly. He didn't want to cause trouble, and didn't want to do anything. If someone wanted to rob the bank, he would let him grab it. Anyway, the wealth in the vault has nothing to do with him.

The body of a security guard fell slanted in front of him, and the hollow eye sockets that were bombed by bullets dripped downwards, and the pool of warm blood slowly came over.

The twins who were hugged by Li Ang were trembling, like two frightened little beasts. They buried their heads deep into his chest and sobbed quietly, tears soaking Li Ang’s newly bought shirt.

After all, they are children in peacetime, and they are not those scouts in Africa who are seven or eight years old who are killing people in the streets with guns...

Li Ang touched the twins' hair and continued to peek at the outside with the reflection of the screen on his phone.

"Now, let's see who can open the vault..."

The clown jumped off the counter and picked up the silent deputy bank manager from the ground - the business elite who used to be in suits and ties, and was sweating profusely and could not speak.

"You are not a clown, he is dead, he is dead!"

This sentence seemed to have a special magic power, which made the gangster leader suddenly stop his movements, just like a picture of stuttering after pressing the space bar in the video player.

Gotham is a city of sin, and no one doubts this. Too many villains and bandits are mixed up, sucking the blood of innocent people entering the city like leeches growing in the mud.

The heir of the Copot gangster family, the Penguin Man, the extremely frozen man holding a frozen air jet gun, and even the scarecrow who relies on fear of poison gas to create panic, the riddle man wearing a question mark suit, and the two-faced man who relies on coins to decide everything...

These evil men entrenched over Gotham, like vultures waiting beside the rotten meat, coveting the feast below at all times.

If they can still represent the "orderly chaos" in Gotham City, then the clown at the top of the evildoers symbolizes simple disorder.

Crazy, cunning, sinister, evil, arrogant, despised the ordinary, dared to sacrifice everything for any purpose, like to watch the world burn...

Too many nouns can be embellished on the head of the madman in a purple suit. If Batman is the king of the city under the dark night, then the clown will always be the court jester standing opposite him.

Without any extraordinary ability or huge power support, relying solely on his mastery of conspiracies and his playing with the dark side of human nature, the clown created a series of horrifying terrifying events.

Until a year ago, he cut off his face and disappeared, missing. Some people said that he died of illness in a dark sewer, while others said that he was full of enemies and finally got caught and died of some kind of terrible lynching.

There was no news of clowns in the city for a whole year, and the Gotham Police Officers bought drunk more than once to celebrate privately - at least they didn't have to worry that the pervert in purple suit would blow the entire police station up with explosives processed from soap.

"Joker?" The gang leader let out a sigh and raised the trembling bank manager. "For God's sake, who told you that I was him?"

It seemed that a certain secret corner was stabbed. The leader of the bandit gang pulled off his mask in great excitement, revealing a face covered with pale powder, and a bright red and funny foam ball on the tip of his nose.

His mouth was not grinning, and his facial features were arranged more gentle. He looked just a fat clown who appeared at a children's birthday party and performed magic shows for the children.

"Is it possible that in the eyes of you Gotham people, is there only one clown in the world who is his mother?" The gang leader shook the bank manager's collar like a collapse, and roared angrily: "Every clown, every! Will register his unique clown face painting at the Global Clown Association. You can see it clearly. Am I the damn Gotham clown who has not been registered and does not even have a noseball?!"

The bank manager trembled his lips and said speechlessly. The gang leader suddenly released his collar and let the manager fall to the ground.

In Li Ang's sight, the bank manager secretly put his hand into his pocket as soon as he fell to the ground, and it seemed that he had pressed some button.

Did you call the police? That's fine.

Li Ang whispered and calmed the twins and told them not to be afraid. He poked his toes outside and hooked them up, and hooked the pistol that fell next to the dead security guard's body.

"Gootham citizens, good afternoon. Please allow me to take up a few minutes to explain our identity."

The gang leader pointed to the tip of his nose and said, "The following is called Bucky the Clown."

He pointed to the other people, "The two who were drilling the door of the vault with drilling rigs were the clown Sisso and the clown Panniwaishi, and the clown Sako was the clown. The five of us were registered in the clown association. We should not be confused with that kind of wild path. That poor copycat would be better off dead, otherwise I swear to God that we must peel him up and make him a human stick..."

With a bang, a hole was drilled into the vault gate. The two bandits rushed into the vault with a sharp smile, using a large canvas bag to sweep the brand new US dollar bills and heavy gold ingots on the shelves of the shelves.

"Aha, wealth, dazzling, unparalleled." Bucky rubbed his hands and directed the others to put the bags on the school bus.

The rapid brake sound suddenly sounded outside the bank, and seven or eight police cars blocked the door airtightly. The belated Gotham policeman used the opened door as a rock body and pointed the muzzle in his hand at the orange school bus.

The clowns looked at each other, and Bucky jumped and said, "Damn it! Didn't we cut off the telephone route to the Gotham Police Department? What's going on?"

Dou Lingling, the rapid text message ring suddenly rang in the silent hall, and a message from Christina was displayed on the screen of the mobile phone.

"Have you received them?" There were a few cute question marks and words behind.

The clown Bucky's boots had already appeared in Li Ang's eyes, and the cold muzzle pressed against his forehead.
Chapter completed!