Chapter 19

How much of what is said actually registers in Megan's little head remains one of the unresolved mysteries of Arkham Asylum.

Under the Joker's indulgent watch, she has finally found a clear position: that of a "mascot," or, in other words, a silent ornament. She does not need to express opinions, speak, or respond; one simply places her wherever it is convenient, and the scene instantly looks more harmonious and pleasing to the eye.

The Penguin was planning a prison break and invited the Riddler and Black Mask to discuss it. While the former is talkative and arrogant, he possesses a sharp mind, and the latter’s power rivals his own. Even if they are at odds on the outside, as fellow criminals struck down and imprisoned by Batman, they could join forces.

When the Riddler arrived, he naturally brought Megan along. He placed her in the seat beside him and set a portion of the hot tea and snacks from the table in front of her—he had become quite accustomed to this routine.

The Penguin could not help but ask, "Edward, why did you bring her?" To include a child who could contribute nothing in their deliberations seemed absurd.

The Riddler raised his hands slightly, as if pleading for mercy. "Don't say that. It was hard enough for me to snatch her away from Killer Croc, you know?"

Yet, there was not a trace of contempt or smugness in his demeanor or tone. He even smiled, looking thoughtful under the Penguin's skeptical gaze. "I need to know what the Joker is up to, don't I? Or can the two of you here afford to ignore him?"

No fool in Arkham could ignore that greatest of madmen. He was raising a little girl—how strange and astonishing that was. Even those who appeared as steady as mountains on the surface were likely bursting with curiosity inside, even if they were unwilling to let things unfold exactly as the Joker anticipated.

Even with Megan present, the Riddler spoke without a shred of guilt. He picked up his own tea, took a small sip, and raised his cup. "Tastes good. It seems I can join you."

"But I only provide plans and assistance, you understand?"

He had no intention of doing the legwork for the escape himself. If the Penguin and Black Mask both wanted out, his interference would only make him a target or an obstacle. He might be betrayed at any moment, becoming cannon fodder or a stepping stone for these two ruthless mob bosses. He agreed to cooperate, but he saw the situation clearly.

On the Penguin's bloated, crowded face, the eyes flanking his hooked nose stared at the Riddler with cold malice for a long moment. Finally, he gave a hypocritical smile. "I understand what you mean. No problem."

Their gazes turned to the only one who had yet to speak: Black Mask. This criminal, known for his extreme cruelty and penchant for torture, had a skull mask that had long since fused with his skin. It was difficult to discern his emotions from that dark, blood-stained visage; after all, everyone knew the origin of that mask.

Black Mask leaned forward, his fingers interlaced on the table, and gave a low laugh. "I have no problem either."

His posture was always condescending. In the context of their cooperation, the others could tolerate it, but Black Mask pointed at Megan, his voice turning chillingly cold. "But take her away, or I will have her killed right here today."

"I don't mind clashing with the Joker, adding a little trouble to our plan, or simply drawing Batman here to force a major upgrade to the prison system. So, keep this weak piece of trash away from me."

An almost tangible killing intent radiated from him, his violent nature laid bare. The Penguin offered a word of advice: "Stop shouting about killing all the time. If you want to put on airs, wait until we're out. And... you really have no bottom line, do you?" He sighed; though his own business was hardly clean, he was not as brutal as Black Mask in his methods.

The Riddler had been threatened, and he knew this was Black Mask's way of intimidating him. He shrugged. "I don't think there's anything left to discuss today anyway. Wait until you've brought me the files."

"Alright everyone, goodbye."

He expertly scooped up the child and left, grabbing the uneaten cupcake in front of her as he went. Once outside, he complained loudly, "That's how people who only understand brute force are—"

"Threatening and intimidating with the safety of a life. His authority is built entirely on violence." But the truth was, violence was truly useful and the most efficient method. Extreme violence combined with the resources of a crime syndicate—it was no wonder Black Mask had once truly ruled Gotham. He had the ability, and his ever-expanding ambition urged him to return and reclaim control.

They were savage, chasing their goals like beasts. Did the Riddler know that his own actions were sometimes just as savage? Of course he did!

"In fact, we can be seen as the same kind of people. We all need to conquer—through violence, through intellect, through every aspect. Not just conquering others, but conquering our own desires. But we don't exercise restraint; we choose to achieve it all."

The Riddler didn't care if Megan could understand. He turned to comfort her, "Actually, you don't need to worry. If Black Mask tried to touch you, he'd have to be careful that Killer Croc didn't tear him apart and ruin all his efforts!"

"Ha! Absolute violence? He thinks he can fight Killer Croc to a draw with his bare hands? There is more than one monster here—there's Clayface, Solomon Grundy..."

He gave a near-mocking smile. "All our ambitions are just fantasies. We are just a group of failed madmen, and that is why we are locked here by that bat-freak."

His expression was twisted, yet clearly not discouraged. Precisely because they were mad, they would provoke Batman again and again. They were all obstinately walking this path, and none would give up until the world compromised—until it acknowledged them.

...

The Riddler had work to do and could no longer spend his days chattering to Megan, so her care alternated between Killer Croc and Poison Ivy.

Poison Ivy spent her days tending to her plants. Every few days, new varieties were brought in—something Batman had agreed to. She could return and stay quietly for a time. Even if it was Batman's requirement, she knew there were those on the outside coveting her abilities, and she could not necessarily fend them all off, so she retreated to Arkham Asylum.

Since her return to the greenhouse, the plants had become extremely lush in a short time. Ivy did not stop their growth as long as their competition was healthy. If the greenhouse wasn't big enough, it would be expanded.

—Let Batman expand it.

Walking among the nearly primeval forest of plants, she would flip through the leaves to check for pests. Megan was left in a corner; she wouldn't damage the plants, and she was such a quiet, small thing that she was incredibly easy to look after.

Having checked all the plants, she returned to Megan’s side, sitting directly on the ground. She pulled the child close and smiled gently. "Good girl, did you learn about any new plants today?" She stroked her hair.

Megan was a child with sluggish perceptions, but her condition was improving. As time passed, her consciousness slowly emerged. Poison Ivy felt that her changes were within the Joker's expectations, though she did not know what that madman was thinking or what kind of plaything he intended to turn Megan into.

Megan stayed quietly with the plants, observing the outside world in a careful, clumsy way. Perhaps she did not love the plants, but she would never do the things a bad child would do to them.

Furthermore... Poison Ivy reached out, plucked a flower from a vine beside Megan, and tucked it directly into her hair.

She used her powers within the greenhouse, and her favorite "child" had been imbued with special abilities. Its vines extended freely like snakes and possessed a slight consciousness. It saw Megan as a large, harmless creature with which it could coexist, so it bloomed a small flower beside her.

Her children liked her. Fortunately, their views were aligned; there was no conflict. Poison Ivy lowered her head and kissed Megan's forehead. She was very tolerant of good children. She took her outside the greenhouse to a small lawn where some plants grew at the edge—not under her control, as that was part of the agreement she had reached with Batman.

There were chairs and a swing set in the middle of the lawn. She brought Megan there.

They sat opposite each other. The distance between them was quite small, and Poison Ivy could easily see the child’s gradually clearing eyes—her green pupils were full of vitality, no longer the dry, dead silence of the beginning.

Did she have a hand in these changes? Though Poison Ivy did not consider it a contribution, she had simply sheltered a child, allowing her to observe the world quietly and steadily, so she wouldn't have to fear the many people and things outside. The plants were her children, so Megan could be one too.

There wasn't much conversation between them. Suddenly, Megan moved. When she got off the chair, Poison Ivy even helped her a little. Then she watched as Megan walked slowly back into the greenhouse.

Poison Ivy did not have the plants monitor her. About a few minutes later, she saw her walk out, holding an old leaf in her hand, evidently picked up from the roots of a plant.

Megan held the leaf up to show Poison Ivy, and she immediately understood her meaning—

This was a new plant she had learned about.

When Poison Ivy told her about the characteristics of the plants, she hadn't demanded anything, nor did she expect her to understand or remember. Yet, Megan, despite her slow reactions, had been tirelessly perceiving the world. Now, she had given her own response.

This made Poison Ivy feel as if a plant she had been tending to—without paying much attention—had suddenly bloomed. It was not in her expectations, but it had bloomed on its own and presented the flower before her.

Even though Megan was still young and could not yet be called beautiful, the fact that she brought her such a surprise made Poison Ivy smile sincerely. When interacting with the beings she loved, the danger she carried was infinitely diminished, revealing a stunning charm.

Poison Ivy took the leaf. "This is a mountain laurel."

"...It is forming buds. When it blooms, I will invite you to see it."