The masked thug leader's words made Brianna's heart sink sharply.

The thing she feared most had finally happened… She had seen this scene in her dreams many times, always waking up in shock. This was why she chose divorce in the end, why she took her daughter and married again.

Because she didn't want her daughter to be dragged into danger.

But still… she couldn't escape this day.

At first, she thought these people came only to rob the mall, and that Morris was hurt simply because he happened to be there.

But now she realized things weren't that simple. Maybe these people were here just for her and her daughter.

Otherwise, how could they recognize them so easily?

She didn't bother to deny it—there was no point. The other side had clearly come prepared.

"I don't know what grudge you have against him, but I already divorced him. I have nothing to do with him anymore… Besides, he's already locked in prison. If you want revenge, go find him directly."

Brianna gathered her courage and spoke.

"In prison?" The masked thug leader shook his head and laughed. "So, you really don't know he's already out? He hasn't contacted you?"

"He's… out?" Brianna's eyes widened.

She really didn't know. This was the first time she'd heard it—straight from this masked man.

Before she could react, the leader shook his head again. "Forget it, whether you know or not doesn't matter. You're just bait anyway. You don't need to know so much… Take them away!"

With a wave of his hand, his men stepped forward to seize Brianna and her daughter.

"No! You can take me, but let her go! She's just a child!" Brianna struggled desperately.

"Lady, are you misunderstanding something?" The masked leader slapped her lightly on the face. "From what I know, Deadshot only really cares about his daughter. As for you, you're nothing but a bonus prize."

"Don't think too highly of yourself."

Those words crushed Brianna's last bit of hope.

She understood—no matter how much she begged, it was useless. Their true target had always been her daughter, Zoe.

"Since you know she's the one I care about most, why do you still choose death?"

A cold, heavy voice echoed across the hall.

"Huh? Already here?" The masked leader looked, surprised, toward the sound.

There, clad in his trademark red combat suit, fully armed, Deadshot appeared.

Or rather, one of Raymond's Shadow Clone, controlled by the Deadshot sub-personality, had just arrived.

"Floyd! You bastard!!" Brianna yelled in anger the moment she saw him.

"Yes, I'm a bastard. This is my fault. I didn't think that lunatic would move so fast," Deadshot's sub-personality admitted again and again, apologizing with guilt.

"Uh… so, can I ask how you even got here?" The masked thug leader suddenly put on a fake humble look. "Your plane was still far away, right? Even if you flew straight here, it should've taken over an hour."

"Let them go, and I'll tell you," Deadshot's sub-personality replied coldly.

"Do I look like an idiot?" The leader tapped his own nose.

"No, you don't look like an idiot. But just like before, you still look like a lunatic."

"Thanks for the compliment."

The masked leader gave a mock bow, one hand across his chest, pretending to be a gentleman.

"Too much nonsense. Boring," Deadshot's sub-personality shook his head.

"What?" The thug leader froze.

Deadshot's sub-personality didn't waste another word—he raised his gun and blew the man's head off in one shot!

The sudden gunshot threw all the masked men into chaos.

The two who held Brianna and Zoe tried to use the wounded hostages to threaten Deadshot.

But before they could even open their mouths, a flash of yellow light streaked past!

In the blink of an eye, it reshaped into a middle-aged man in a yellow-and-white striped suit, sleazy and grinning.

At that very moment, every single masked thug collapsed to the ground.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

"Oh my, such a scary bunch of people…" The greasy voice drawled lazily.

Deadshot's sub-personality glanced at Kizaru's sub-personality with no words left—he had no energy to complain anymore.

Kizaru had been sent by Raymond as backup. Besides him, Akainu's sub-personality was also hiding in the shadows nearby.

With two silver-ranked monsters covering him, Deadshot had all the confidence he needed.

Otherwise, if he had to face the Joker alone, he really wouldn't have been sure he could handle it.

"So this is that 'Joker' Raymond mentioned?" Kizaru muttered, nudging the corpse with his foot and kicking the mask aside.

"Just a stand-in," Deadshot's sub-personality said flatly, not even bothering to look at the body. "He looked convincing, but fake is fake. I already knew something was off."

"Oh dear, you noticed…"

Suddenly, a nervous, unstable voice echoed through the mall's speakers. "Should I say I expected no less from you?"

"Joker! You touched my family, you better wash your neck clean and wait for me to take your head!" Deadshot's sub-personality snarled, his voice filled with killing intent.

"So it's fine for you to touch my woman, but I can't touch your family? Since when is the wor—"

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Deadshot didn't let him finish. He fired a dozen shots into the air, blasting out every speaker in the mall.

The Joker's voice was cut off instantly.

But he didn't destroy the cameras. Instead, he turned toward one of them and raised his middle finger.

Knowing the Joker well, he could already picture him on the other end of the feed, smashing things in a rage.

Crazy, yes. But the Joker was also prideful to the extreme.

He didn't truly care about Harley, yet he would never allow anyone to "steal" her from him. And he would never allow someone who repeatedly mocked him to keep living.

Without question, even if Deadshot's sub-personality didn't go looking for trouble, the Joker would still find every way to torment him and eventually kill him.

To make him regret ever provoking him.

Of course, this was mostly because the Joker didn't know about Raymond's special connection to Deadshot. So he dumped all the blame on Deadshot's head.

But Deadshot didn't really care. If anything, he was happy to provoke him again.

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