The Joker's fingernails were coated in poison. When he was sticking needles into people, he slipped in just a little.
"So you're all poisoned now—except for our little lucky star," the Joker said with a grin. "Surprise."
Everyone broke down inside. They thought once they reached the end of the game it would finally be over. They never expected the Joker to crash in and poison everyone.
The guy with rainbow-colored hair looked terrified, his expression too twisted for words. Everyone believed the Joker was telling the truth. They had no other choice. "Joker, what the hell do you want??!!"
"I don't want anything. I just want to see who's the last one to walk out alive. Who will be the one Jigsaw's philosophy redeems and saves? Every one of you has sinned. None of you are good people. This game gave you a chance to face your own mistakes, to value your life, to change how you live. I just want to see if this game can really turn you into the kind of person Jigsaw hopes for."
Charlie and Luther had no idea what the Joker was really after. To the Joker, this whole setup was just an appetizer. Honestly, unless Jigsaw himself showed up, the Joker was going to stay disappointed.
"Joker, give us the antidote now!"
"No. Not unless you prove that you've already become the kind of person Jigsaw wanted. Someone who cherishes life, someone who won't waste it. If you're not that, then you can all just die."
How were they supposed to prove that?
"Joker, I've already changed. As long as I can live, I swear I'll never scam anyone again," one man pleaded.
"Me too. I'll live like a good person from now on."
…
One after another, people declared the same thing. Nobody wanted to die. But just talking meant nothing. A few words wouldn't convince someone like the Joker.
"Not enough. Not enough," the Joker said. "How can you prove you're good people this way? Why don't I make a suggestion?"
"Go on," the lawyer said, though he already knew the Joker wasn't going to let them off easy.
"Here's how it is. Time's running out. In five minutes the collars will explode. So why don't you all work together to save one person? If you're willing to sacrifice your own lives to save one person, then I'll hand over the antidote and cure the poison in every single one of you. Did you hear that? Every one of you."
What was the point? Even if they detoxed, they still didn't have the keys. They'd be blown up anyway.
"One person lives, or everyone dies." The Joker believed none of them would sacrifice themselves. With this, he could prove Jigsaw's games weren't about redemption at all—they just turned one set of freaks into another.
Nobody moved this time. The Joker's meaning was obvious: trade the many for the few, only one survives in the end. Because even with antidote in their veins, the collars would still explode. Only someone with both the key and the antidote would live.
Silence again. Tonight seemed full of silence. Nobody wanted to die for someone else. So in the end, they'd all just head to hell together. The ending was already set.
Liu A'dou leaned back in his chair, watching the show. It looked like what really stung the Joker was Jigsaw's ideology. Truth was, Jigsaw did make people stop wasting their lives, but not in the way he claimed. Those who went through his games ended up as sadists, dumping their pain onto new victims and creating more tragedies.
But the Joker simply hated Jigsaw. In his eyes, no one could manipulate hearts better than him.
Games could change people, yes—but they couldn't make them better. That had been decided from the very start. Crime breeds more crime. Only good examples can guide people. Get close to ink and you'll be stained black, get close to cinnabar and you'll turn red. The ancients knew that truth. All Jigsaw created were more disciples of his, a pack of cruel butchers.
The Joker was the same. He dragged people into corruption too, but in a different way. He liked temptation. Jigsaw preferred threats.
It was just like Gordon's words about the Joker: he'd hand you a piece of cake, then yank it away. Jigsaw never offered cake—only fists. The Joker let people die laughing, Jigsaw made them die bleeding.
The Joker was scarier than Jigsaw. Of course, to ordinary people, there wasn't much difference. To them, monsters were all the same. Only among lunatics did each insist their way was the best.
"No one willing to sacrifice?" The Joker broke the silence. Since he couldn't see any change from the game, he'd just drag them all into hell. "Then all of you can just die." And that wasn't all. "And the game's planners? Way too disappointing. I was deceived."
It was like buying fake medicine that didn't deliver the promised effect. Most people would just ask for a refund. But the Joker? He'd kill the one who sold the fake drug.
"Game over." The Joker pressed a button hidden in his body. Since he already knew the game, he had come well prepared.
Long before this, using Ellen's letter, the Joker had tracked down the entire Jigsaw faction and slipped his little devices onto them.
Boom!
The players didn't die. Instead, the game's organizers dropped first. A surge of electricity tore through Charlie and Luther's bodies, roasting them into blackened husks.
"Two down," the Joker said without expression. He had expected a more entertaining result. Turned out that was it—Jigsaw's disciples weren't much after all.
"Alright. Now it's time to play by my rules."
Everyone stared at him in fear. Nobody knew what he was going to do, only that since the Joker came prepared, nothing good was coming.
"What just happened?"
"Nothing. I just sent those disappointing Jigsaw disciples off to meet God. God bless them," the Joker said with a grin. "I've had enough of their useless games. From here on out, I'll be the one revealing your ending." He brushed his hair back, tilted his head, and drank in their faces.
Fear. He was pleased with that final expression. "Your ending is: death!"
No surprise there. Of course the Joker wasn't going to spare a bunch of mortals who couldn't even play the villain properly.
"Please, I don't want to die," someone begged. Pathetic—begging the Joker of all people.
"But you have to die. Because I'm unhappy. Unhappy!" the Joker said. "Jigsaw, Jigsaw—he makes me very unhappy."
"But why? Why target Jigsaw and his followers?" That was Liu A'dou. He knew the Joker's hatred came from the clash between two twisted minds. Still, he wanted to know what the Joker really disliked about Jigsaw. Was it just because he'd once been kidnapped?
"Why?" The Joker actually seemed amused by the question. "Because I don't like him. Is that reason enough?"
It was plenty. For a lunatic, disliking someone was more than enough to justify doing all kinds of insane things.
"Apologies for making you dislike me." A voice suddenly came from inside the room—the same voice that had spoken through the TV earlier. "Hello, Joker. I am Jigsaw."
Liu A'dou's ears pricked up. He and Neo had dug everywhere but never found Jigsaw himself—only second-generation disciples. He never thought Jigsaw's own voice would appear here.