From the pitch-black ceiling a TV dropped down, showing Jigsaw's puppet.
Writers look down on other writers. In martial arts, there's no number one, no number two. Peers are always rivals—that's what the old saying means. Lunatics are the same. Just because they're twisted doesn't mean they get along.
The Joker and Jigsaw were exactly like that. The Joker hated Jigsaw's speeches, Jigsaw's methods, everything about him. Jigsaw, in turn, despised the Joker's chaotic theories and destructive hunger. The Joker craved disorder—madness full of the unknown that gave him satisfaction. Jigsaw sought order, to be the rule-maker, to control everything.
The two were opposites, like fire and water.
Different beliefs—that's why the Joker killed Jigsaw's disciples. "Jigsaw, you finally showed yourself."
"You've already targeted all my disciples. I can't stay silent anymore." Jigsaw's reply made everyone realize the Joker was far more dangerous than they thought. Even Liu A'dou was shocked. He hadn't expected the Joker had already found Jigsaw.
That was because the Joker had the disciples' letters, and Liu A'dou didn't. With those, the Joker tracked Jigsaw down and forced his hand.
"I thought I'd get more fun from your games. I'm disappointed." The Joker strolled back and forth among the crowd, not afraid at all of the final minute ticking away. "Jigsaw, your games are all the same. All you make are mass-produced killers. I'm sick of it. Jigsaw, I like things with more explosions."
"We were never the same, Joker." Jigsaw felt wronged. He'd never had any dealings with the Joker at all. It was just one third-generation disciple's choice that had dragged his entire faction into the Joker's sights.
If the Joker had wanted, Jigsaw and his disciples would have been wiped out even before this four-in-one game began. But the Joker wanted to see if the game could really make people better—or worse. The truth was disappointing. Mortals were still mortals.
"I know you love to toy with little people, using your wits to tower over them. That's why I'm disappointed. I never thought Jigsaw would turn out to be this kind of man. Ah ah ah ah~" The Joker twitched with excitement. "You'd be better off dead."
"I'm already dying," Jigsaw said. If not, he would've shown up face to face long ago. He hadn't come because of the Joker's hostage grip on all his disciples. Jigsaw didn't fear death, but he feared his successors all being slaughtered. The Joker was absolutely capable of it.
"I've got a proposal…" The Joker still looked at games with optimism. It was just that in Jigsaw's hands, they'd become dull.
"Forget proposals. Help us unlock the collars, I'm begging you!"
But the Joker ignored them. "Why don't we change the game? Take those plain, useless nobodies everyone sees every day, and turn them into the successful, arrogant elites. Make the game fun, let them die in hope, smiling." The Joker was actually pitching his brand of twisted games to Jigsaw.
"Joker, I've told you. I'm not like you. My games aren't about killing."
"I know, I know. Yours are about making people find the missing piece of themselves through punishment, discovering something precious in cruel human nature. But you're wrong." The Joker stared at the TV screen. "What people need isn't that. They need something bigger, grander. A game that changes the structure of society itself. A game with no rules."
In the Joker's heart, the perfect world was chaos. Everyone would return to being beasts, tearing down all law and morals, fighting, killing, destroying. A world where everyone lost control—that was the Joker's Avalon.
But Jigsaw didn't see it that way. "I only change people's fates."
"No. You just want another way to keep yourself alive." The Joker's eyes bored into the puppet. Even without meeting Jigsaw, he saw straight through the dying man. "You want your disciples to carry your ideals, to enforce them for you. Your will living on through them forever. You want to play God. Oh, pitiful old man. Your illness has burned your clever brain to ash. I bet your head's so full of air it's squeezing your brain out. Ohhh, poor old man."
"Joker." Jigsaw knew he'd been seen through. He could see through the Joker too, but the Joker was a lunatic—there was nothing to say. "You win. Please, spare my disciples."
"No!" The Joker hit the switch under his skin again. "Say goodbye to your disciples."
Every disciple the Joker had uncovered died instantly. Then he bit down hard, tearing a chunk of flesh from his wrist, and spat the implanted switch onto the floor—meat and all.
Blood made the Joker's lips even redder.
Jigsaw never thought the Joker would go this far. He himself was still alive, but all his disciples were dead.
"Joker, how dare you?"
"Because you let me down. I had expected you could do better," the Joker said. "Your games had the power to change the world, but you, a dying man, turned them into a laughable child's play. Now it's all over. My games will go on, but your game is finished. Out. Hahahaha~"
The Joker could absolutely create greater chaos. He'd drag famous figures into his games, break them, and throw the world of ordinary people into fear. Not make ordinary people play while the powerful stayed free. His vision was more influential, and more terrifying.
Jigsaw went silent. With the disciples dead, the Jigsaw faction was gone. All his efforts were wasted. The successors he had carefully chosen to carry on his ideals were dead. His philosophy had been cut off. Now he was just a terminal patient waiting for death, without strength or helpers to set up games anymore.
Everything collapsed at the last step. Jigsaw's entire legacy had been destroyed by the Joker. But really, they had brought it on themselves. If they hadn't let the Joker in, this wouldn't have happened.
The Joker never cared about consequences. If he said he'd kill Jigsaw's disciples, he would. Long before the game began, he had prepared everything. What he had hoped for was a better outcome—people changing for the better, or the worse. But these people never changed. They stayed dull and numb. That was the planners' fault, so they had to die.
And when the dying Jigsaw showed up, it only confirmed for the Joker that their whole ideology had made these games so boring. His judgment wasn't entirely fair, because within these four games, there had been Harry's sacrifice, Liu A'dou's acting and cheating. Without Harry and Liu A'dou, the others never would have reached the final game so smoothly. If they had, it would have been with heavy losses. Definitely not with this many people left.
So in truth, the game had been a good test of Jigsaw's idea—that if you accepted punishment, you could live. But Liu A'dou's interference ruined it, made the game dull, and left the Joker raging with dissatisfaction.
Still, the result was set. The Joker had wiped out Jigsaw's disciples. From now on, the rules of the games would be his to decide.
He looked around at everyone else. Their time was up. In the end, their heads would all be blown apart. The Joker flashed a wide grin. "Your game is over too."