Chapter 82: The Base Beneath Arkham
Knock, knock, knock...
"In the storage room, third row, second compartment."
Allen eagerly anticipated something unexpected.
Pop!
A hidden compartment sprang open.
Inside was another letter.
"So mysterious, I love it," Allen chuckled, appreciating the theatrics.
Tearing open the envelope, he read: "Please check beneath the third washing machine in the laundry room."
"Who is it?"
Allen instantly realized someone was messing with him. His sharp little eyes darted around, scanning for any suspicious figures. But the storage room was empty—he was alone.
"I will find out who you are."
He declared solemnly, "If it's a woman, I'll applaud her. If it's a man, a hundred flicks to his—"
With that, he marched straight toward the laundry room.
Hiding around the corner, Edward and Cobblepot watched his back as he left.
"Who's bored enough to play games with a lunatic?"
Edward's mind worked rapidly, filtering through the list of Arkham inmates. He quickly ruled out the usual criminals—just a bunch of brutes who only knew violence. No way they could orchestrate a sequence of riddles like this.
"I think that middle-aged guy in tights is pretty damn bored," Cobblepot muttered.
"Agreed. Batman probably thinks he looks cool—self-proclaimed guardian of justice. In reality? A trauma-ridden, violent maniac," Edward nodded in approval.
Truthfully, Bruce did have psychological issues. The trauma of losing his parents had never left him.
The two quietly tailed Allen to the laundry room.
Peeking through the doorway, they saw Allen effortlessly lift the heavy washing machine with one hand and retrieve a third letter.
"Open washing machines 9, 5, 1, and 7 in order, and you will receive a surprise."
Allen hesitated. "Maybe I should just forget it."
His hands twitched.
Left Hand: "Dear, don't continue. This could be a trap. I don't want to lose you."
Right Hand: "Allen, you're a coward. A mentally ill coward. If you don't check, how will you sleep tonight?"
Allen glanced at his right hand, then glared at his left.
"I am not a coward! The one who backs down is a loser!"
Resolutely, he started up the machines in sequence.
As the water filled and the drums began to spin, something changed.
Pfft…
A soft hiss, like an air valve leaking.
The wall receded inward, then split apart, revealing a dark passage.
Allen peeked in cautiously. "So dark, not even a light switch?"
Feeling around the entrance, he pressed against the wall.
Click!
The passage lit up brightly. Without hesitation, he stepped inside.
Fear? Doesn't exist.
The more terrifying, the more exciting.
"He went in. Should we follow?"
"Of course. Why else are we here?"
Edward and Cobblepot exchanged glances, curiosity overcoming hesitation.
After all, human nature is curious.
Besides, with Allen leading, if anything went wrong, they could always run.
"Hey!"
"Huh—"
"Ah—!"
Just as they were about to step in, Allen suddenly popped back out, startling them so badly their hearts nearly stopped.
"Gotcha!" Allen grinned triumphantly. "You went through all that effort, and I still caught you!"
Uh...
Edward realized Allen had completely misunderstood. He thought they had set up the elaborate prank.
"It wasn't us," Edward clarified. "Digging out a secret passage like this wouldn't go unnoticed."
That was true. Never mind the tools required—just breaking through walls to build a tunnel was a massive operation. Arkham's security wasn't that incompetent.
The only logical explanation? The passage had been part of Arkham's original blueprints.
"Hearing that makes me even more excited! Heh heh heh... Sweetheart, here I come!"
Without another thought, Allen dove back into the passage.
Edward and Cobblepot froze in place.
Shouldn't he at least consider the possibility of danger?
Allen's reckless abandon made them hesitate.
A lunatic might not fear death. But they certainly did.
Arkham Asylum's origins dated back to the 1950s. Over such a long time, even the original designers might not remember every hidden detail.
"Maybe we take a look? If anything seems off, we bail."
"Even a hint of danger, we turn back immediately."
After some thought, the Riddler and the Penguin cautiously stepped into the passage.
They had only gone a few meters when a noise came from behind.
Turning around, they saw—to their horror—the entrance was closing.
"RUN!"
Edward shouted, scrambling back.
Too late. By the time they reached the door, the opening had already shrunk too small for a person to squeeze through.
Pounding against the concrete, the deep, muffled echoes made it clear—the walls were thick.
No way out.
No choice but to move forward and catch up to Allen.
Before long, the passage led to an underground railway track.
"Get in, I've been waiting for you two forever!"
Allen sat in a rust-covered rail cart, cheerfully waving them over.
The cart looked old and grimy, coated in something like dust-rusted grime. Yet, strangely, the underground tracks remained dry and intact, showing no signs of rust or corrosion.
Edward and Cobblepot sighed and pushed the cart forward manually.
They traveled down a long tunnel, dimly lit by flickering yellow lamps.
"This feels like an underground military facility... Could it be an old secret transport route?" Edward speculated.
Arkham was built during the Cold War. A hidden fallout shelter wouldn't be surprising.
During the height of the nuclear missile crisis, rich Americans had been obsessed with constructing doomsday bunkers.
"Looks like a door up ahead."
Cobblepot pointed toward the tunnel's end—where the tracks stopped at a massive black metal door embedded in the wall.
Reaching the end, they halted the cart and examined the door closely.
No handle. No seams. Completely sealed.
Suddenly, a red light activated, scanning Cobblepot from head to toe.
"Subject does not match."
The same happened with Edward.
"Subject does not match."
As the red scanner moved toward Allen—
"I REFUSE TO BE VIOLATED!"
Allen leapt to the side, dodging the scan. He darted back and forth, evading every attempt like a child playing tag.
Anticipating such resistance, multiple scanning beams shot out from different angles, finally locking onto him.
"Subject match confirmed. Welcome back, Commander."
In the next instant, the massive black door slid open.
…What!?
Edward and Cobblepot's minds went blank.
Allen… is the commander?
Was this some kind of joke?
Letting a lunatic lead an organization? That was a one-way ticket to disaster.
"Ahem. No need for the grand welcome."
Allen stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, striding in with the air of a leader inspecting his domain.
The doors parted—
Revealing a hidden underground base.
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