---
The brightly lit streets of Queenstown were packed wall-to-wall with people, all swept up in the wild carnival atmosphere. Laughter, music, and footsteps mixed with the buzzing neon lights. People danced, drank, and celebrated without a care in the world.
Suddenly, there was a sharp pop.
Then — total darkness.
All at once, the city lights flickered out, plunging Queenstown into black silence. Neon signs, lampposts, and even traffic lights blinked dead. For a few seconds, there was only confusion and stunned silence.
Then—
"Ouch—!"
A wave of murmuring rose like a tidal wave.
People booed, groaned, and shouted in protest. But no one moved. Everyone stood frozen, unsure of what had just happened.
Buried in the crowd, Black Widow stood still, her instincts kicking in immediately. Her sharp eyes scanned the darkness.
"What's going on?" she asked, pressing a finger to the communicator in her ear.
"Captain, we're checking now," a voice answered quickly from the other side. "There's no clear cause yet."
She gave a quick nod, though no one could see it. "Understood."
She was about to resume her chase of the man with the black bag when—
Boom!
The lights came back on all at once. A massive wave of cheers erupted from the crowd, as though the chaos had been part of the show.
Wow—!
Fireworks shot up from rooftops. Colored lights strobed again. The city was alive.
But then—
All across Queenstown, every LED billboard and display screen flickered. One by one, they lit up with the same strange image.
A figure in a clown suit appeared. Pale white makeup, blood-red lips curved into a grin, and a pair of sharp, wild eyes. He dragged a blood-stained baseball bat along the ground as he walked through the street. The bat scraped noisily against the pavement.
Above the screen was a line of bold, blood-red text:
[THE TRIAL OF THE JOKER]
"What the hell is that?"
"Why are they showing this?"
"This better not be some kind of ad…"
Though the crowd muttered and scoffed, no one looked away. It was like they were hypnotized. Disgusted or curious, it didn't matter. Everyone was watching.
Even Black Widow involuntarily glanced up—and just that one look was enough.
She couldn't turn away.
On the screen, the clown grinned wider, flashing sharp teeth. He moved through the crowd with a spring in his step, humming cheerfully.
Then he stopped.
In front of him was a man — the same one who had pushed John earlier, carrying a large black duffel bag.
The clown tapped him on the shoulder.
The man turned around abruptly, his face pale. As soon as he saw the clown, fear turned to rage.
"F*ck off! You want to get hit again?!" the man growled, his voice blasting through hidden speakers across the city.
"Hahahaha!"
A short, eerie laugh burst from the clown.
Then came a single word:
"Surprise."
Crack!
The clown's bat came down hard on the man's head.
"Ah!" the man shrieked, dropping to his knees, hands reaching up instinctively to shield himself.
But the clown didn't give him a chance.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Over and over, the bat slammed into the man's skull. Blood splattered the screen. It splashed across the clown's white face like red paint on a blank canvas.
Still, the clown smiled.
Still, he laughed.
There was no mercy, no hesitation. Only rhythmic, relentless violence.
"Oh my God," Black Widow whispered, eyes wide.
She'd seen death. She'd dealt death. But this wasn't combat. This was execution.
This man — this clown — was dangerous.
More dangerous than anyone she'd seen in a long time.
And worst of all — he enjoyed it.
The video feed showed him raise the bat one last time—
Then it cut.
But the damage was done.
Black Widow didn't need a command. She didn't wait for orders.
"Target identified," she said through clenched teeth, already moving. "I'm going after him."
She sprinted through the crowd, shoving aside confused and terrified partygoers. Screams broke out behind her as people began to realize what they'd just witnessed wasn't a prank or a Halloween gimmick.
This was real.
"Aaah—!"
Someone screamed.
Then another.
In an instant, the entire area erupted into chaos. Costumed men and women ran in all directions, discarding masks and makeup as if trying to escape not just danger, but their own festive delusions.
People tripped over one another. Shops were abandoned. Children cried.
It was mass panic.
At the edge of the crowd, the clown stood still, surrounded by mayhem.
He licked the blood from the corner of his lip, chuckled low, and stared out at the city that was now descending into terror.
"The carnival has begun," he whispered, eyes shining.
He dropped the bat to the ground with a metallic clunk, turned, and walked away, still laughing.
"Stop!" a woman's voice rang out behind him.
The clown infront of her stop!.