Harley's baseball bat was raised high.
The tip of the bat whistled through the air.
"Take this!"
It was about to smash into T'ell-Ror's head.
"Roar—!!!"
A roar, louder than all previous ones, exploded from nearby.
It was Killer Croc.
Waylon Jones once again crawled out of the man-shaped crater he had created.
The bones all over his body crackled like popping beans.
His eyes were completely covered in blood-red, his sanity entirely devoured by bestial instinct.
Those last few blows were the greatest humiliation of his life.
He wanted to bite this man to pieces.
He wanted to devour this man!
Waylon Jones' massive body started moving again.
This time, he abandoned all unnecessary movements.
He was an out-of-control heavy truck.
The ground beneath his feet cracked and groaned.
Debris and dust were stirred up by his massive body, forming a grey tidal wave.
His target: tear T'ell-Ror to shreds.
The smile on T'ell-Ror's face vanished.
Replaced by impatience.
He didn't even bother to look at Harley's baseball bat, suspended in mid-air.
He turned to face the charging behemoth.
He didn't even clench his fist.
He simply raised his right hand casually.
Spreading his five fingers.
Killer Croc's gaping maw was already upon him.
A foul, fishy gust of wind blew into his face.
Those two rows of teeth, capable of biting through steel plates, gleamed a chilling white.
Just as the giant mouth was about to close.
T'ell-Ror's palm moved.
Smack!
It landed on the side of Killer Croc's face.
A crisp sound echoed across the entire plaza.
Killer Croc's massive body, weighing nearly a thousand kilograms, was lifted directly off the ground.
His immense forward momentum was completely transformed by this slap.
Into another kind of force.
A force that sent his body spinning horizontally at high speed.
He was like a top, fiercely whipped, spinning wildly in mid-air.
One rotation, two rotations, three rotations… with a whistling sound.
He traveled dozens of meters.
Finally.
"Bang!"
A dull, extremely heavy thud.
Like a spinning top, he crashed directly into the specially reinforced alloy wall on the other side of the plaza.
The thick alloy wall, centered at the point of impact, suddenly caved inwards.
Forming a giant human-shaped crater.
A perfectly crocodile-shaped human crater.
Waylon Jones' limbs were splayed out.
He was perfectly embedded within it.
Every inch of his body's outline was clearly imprinted on the wall.
Like a bizarre modern art fresco.
He didn't move.
Deadshot lowered the wrist cannon on his arm, his breathing stopped.
His tactical goggles had long since glitched out due to overload.
But he didn't need the goggles.
He saw everything with his own eyes.
One slap.
And Killer Croc was embedded in the wall.
On the west wall.
Captain Boomerang, crucified in a spread-eagle position, forgot his screams and shame.
He just stood there with his mouth agape.
Staring at the freshly made "Crocodile Fresco" in the distance.
His eyes rolled back, his head tilted, and foam frothed at his mouth.
He passed out from sheer terror.
In various corners of the prison.
All the guards and staff watching this scene through the monitors.
Their minds went blank.
Someone's coffee cup dropped to the floor.
Someone's cigarette slipped from their mouth.
The expressions on their faces froze into identical looks of dumbfounded astonishment.
That was Killer Croc.
A monster who could overturn an armored vehicle with his bare hands.
And he was… turned into a fresco with one slap?
Wasn't this some outrageous comic book plot?
In the central control room.
The technicians behind Waller didn't even dare to breathe.
On the main screen, the crocodile-shaped indentation was so glaring.
"Clatter."
A soft sound broke the silence.
It was Harley Quinn.
Her baseball bat fell to the ground.
But it wasn't out of fear.
Her sapphire blue eyes were bright, as if stars were twinkling within them.
"Wow!"
She clasped her hands together on her chest.
She started clapping wildly.
"Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!"
The crisp applause was exceptionally loud in the dead silent plaza.
"Perfect!"
"Art!"
Harley excitedly jumped up, her pigtails swinging in joyful arcs through the air.
She pointed at the "fresco" on the wall, then at T'ell-Ror, and shrieked.
"This is simply the best performance in the world!"
"Sweetheart!"
"You're ten thousand times more interesting than all the bad guys I know combined!"
T'ell-Ror finally turned his gaze towards Harley, the only one still standing in the arena.
He tilted his head.
This woman… was very strange.
He couldn't perceive any clear fighting intent from her.
No fear, no anger, no killing intent.
Only a pure, joyful, chaotic energy, exploding like fireworks.
This left him a little puzzled.
Was she not afraid of death?
Harley completely ignored T'ell-Ror's scrutinizing gaze.
She lifted the hem of her short skirt.
Like a true lady, she performed an exaggerated curtsy towards him.
Then, she straightened up and blew a kiss at T'ell-Ror.
"Mwah~"
"Hi, handsome!"
Her voice was sickeningly sweet.
"They've all fallen."
"Now, is it our turn to play?"
Harley's eyes curved into crescent moons.
"I have lots of fun games, you know."
"Like 'Smash Bones with a Hammer,' how about that?"
Inside the control room.
Amanda Waller clenched her fists tightly.
Her fingernails were already deeply embedded in her thick palms.
A stinging sensation came, but she didn't notice it.
Task Force X.
Her ace card, assembled with countless resources and effort.
Completely wiped out.
And, in an almost humiliating way.
One flicked away with a finger.
One pinned to the wall with his own weapon.
One slapped into a fresco.
And another… the most troublesome lunatic, declared her love for the enemy on the spot!
Her pride, control, and authority.
Were casually trampled underfoot and crushed by that man.
An intense feeling of humiliation burned in her chest.
Her eyes were bloodshot from the rush of blood.
In the plaza.
T'ell-Ror was still intrigued by Harley's pure "chaos."
He hadn't yet decided how to deal with this interesting madwoman.
Suddenly.
A slight but heavy tremor came from the ground beneath his feet.
"Thump…"
The tremor was deep and muffled.
As if coming from the depths of the earth's core.
A primal, death-filled energy.
Awakened from the deepest part of Belle Reve Prison.
The curiosity on T'ell-Ror's face vanished.
Replaced by a wild smile, sparked by interest.
He muttered to himself.
"Oh?"
"So there was a big guy hidden."
At the same time.
Central control room.
Amanda Waller unclenched her bleeding hand.
Extreme anger was followed by calm.
She walked to the main console.
And gave her final command over the internal communication channel.
"Level one alert, canceled."
"Activate…"
She paused.
"Graveyard Protocol… Release him!"