Jack Oswald White.
Batman had never imagined he would learn the Joker's real name in such a way.
Though in truth, it didn't really matter.
Just as the Joker never cared whether Batman was Bruce Wayne, Batman had never truly tried to uncover the Joker's origins.
The Joker was a heinous, psychopathic killer—whatever he once was, wherever he came from, changed nothing about that.
After calming himself, Batman learned more about this version of the Joker through casual conversation.
Jack was a failed stand-up comedian. He truly had no talent for telling jokes—not a single routine of his could genuinely make an audience laugh.
Mr. White's income from performing couldn't even cover daily expenses—especially with a wife and a child to support.
So, as life grew increasingly difficult, he had no choice but to temporarily abandon his dream of making a living through comedy.
For now, he found work at Wayne Casino, cleaning restrooms day after day for a meager wage.
Not long ago, Jack's wife, Jenny, had fallen seriously ill, pushing this already struggling family further into hardship.
That was also why the Maroni family had come looking for him—failing to repay money owed to the mafia had serious consequences.
Despite everything, Bruce could still see optimism and hope in Jack's eyes—especially when he spoke of his son Jeremy and his wife Jenny.
This universe's Joker… Jack… clearly had a warm and loving family.
Batman's curiosity inevitably grew, and this version of Jack was far more simple and open-hearted than those in other universes.
With little effort, Bruce gradually broke through his defenses and got him to open up.
Just as their conversation was reaching a deeper level, a disturbance from outside the restroom interrupted them.
It was a sharp, shrill voice, accompanied by the dull thud of boots striking flesh. The speaker sounded furious:
"Get up and get out of here, you filthy pigs!"
The voice was painfully familiar to Batman—so familiar that, like the Joker's face, it was something he could never forget.
After briefly reassuring Jack, Bruce stepped out quickly and saw exactly who he expected.
Short and stout. A long hooked nose. A cane-umbrella always in hand. A gold-rimmed monocle over his right eye…
"The Penguin."
Batman removed his brown glasses and greeted him, then looked down at him like a predator sizing up its prey.
Oswald Cobblepot—alias 'The Penguin.'
After Batman had brought down Gotham's old mafia families, he rose to become one of the most dangerous crime bosses in the city.
Unlike the Joker, who often acted alone, or the relatively 'orderly' mafia—
The Penguin single-handedly built a vast criminal empire spanning Gotham's entire underworld.
Arms smuggling, drug trafficking, human trafficking… there was nothing this utterly unscrupulous man wouldn't do.
He was an old acquaintance.
Whenever Batman hit a dead end in an investigation, he would often pay him a visit—and beat information out of him.
Batman's intensely hostile gaze made the Penguin, who had just been venting his anger by kicking the Maroni thugs awake one by one, suddenly shiver.
But it wasn't just the threatening stare.
It was Bruce's face.
As the Wayne family's butler for nearly a decade, the Penguin knew very well what Thomas Wayne looked like in his younger years.
And this man before him—looked exactly like a younger Thomas Wayne.
Pulling out a handkerchief, the Penguin wiped the sweat from his forehead. Under the pressure of the man's presence, he finally managed to steady himself.
He cleared his throat.
"Ahem! You're Matches Malone, right? Come with me. My boss wants to see you."
The identity was obviously fake.
Because while Matches Malone did exist in the underworld—
The Penguin just happened to know the real one.
Impersonating someone else in the underworld is an extremely serious offense—but the Penguin didn't have the guts to expose him.
"Your boss?"
Batman frowned. "By your boss, do you mean Thomas Wayne?"
"Who else would it be?"
After receiving that confirmation, Batman grew even more confused. In this universe, the Wayne family's butler was the Penguin?
Deciding it was more important to meet Thomas first, Batman turned back to ask Jack for his home address, then followed the Penguin into the elevator leading to the top floor.
"You seem to care about that janitor. He only owes the Maroni family some money—it's nothing serious."
The Penguin, just as perceptive as his other versions, faced Bruce inside the elevator and removed his monocle, wiping it lightly.
"I'll make a call and ensure those Maroni brats never bother him again. No need for you to concern yourself with such trivial matters, young master."
Sharp-minded as ever, he had already deduced Bruce's identity from Thomas's tone on the phone—and from Bruce's face.
This man looked exactly like a younger Thomas Wayne, yet carried the same cold, dangerous aura as the current one.
Most likely an illegitimate son. And clearly, Thomas knew it too—that was why he had eagerly summoned him upstairs.
The Penguin sighed inwardly, hoping this young man's arrival might restore at least a trace of humanity to that old bat.
"You're the Wayne family's butler? Since when did you become the butler?"
Batman didn't really care about the Penguin's promise—he had at least nine different ways to make sure the Maroni family never bothered White again.
He didn't need the Penguin's intervention.
What he cared about was how the Wayne family's butler had become the Penguin.
What about Alfred?
"Since your father caught me."
The Penguin turned his back.
"At the time, your father happened to be missing a butler. So he spared my life and put me in charge of running the Wayne casino."
"I hired idle street punks to work there—kept them from causing trouble on the streets."
Missing a butler…
Batman quickly pressed, "What happened to the previous one? Where did he go?!"
"Oh, you mean old Pennyworth? He passed away."
The Penguin's voice grew heavy. He had heard the story of the former butler's final moments from a drunken Thomas—and it was an unimaginable tragedy.
"The Joker killed him. Poor Alfred…"
No.
Batman had just seen that face—he hadn't become the Joker.
No… Jack White was just a janitor at Wayne Casino. He had a happy family. He hadn't turned into that mad, twisted killer.
Which meant there was another Joker in this world.
As the elevator ascended toward the top floor, Bruce suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe.
The truth, already thinly veiled, refused to stay hidden no matter how much he subconsciously avoided it.
Just as Joey had said—he had been avoiding a truth he should have realized long ago.
The Penguin's tone remained low and sorrowful, especially when recounting the atrocities committed by the Joker.
It was as if that Joker existed for one purpose alone—to completely break Thomas Wayne, both physically and mentally.
And because she knew Thomas so well, she always struck first at the people closest to him.
"The Joker snuck into the manor one night. At that time, only Alfred was there."
"That madwoman… she held a kitchen knife and forced Alfred to fetch the pearl necklace that belonged to her…"