Multiverse: Deathstroke

Su Ming picked up the little girl's laptop and quickly entered some names. With no results, he tried the console and switched to a facial recognition search, but still came up empty.

It turned out, as expected, that the Bat's surveillance system excluded herself from the database. Su Ming had anticipated this.

He'd only tried using Batgirl's system to search for her true identity on a whim. It was worth a shot.

Now, he had just ruled out one possibility.

He sat down to the side and gestured for Barbara to come back and wait for dinner, then took out his cigar.

Barbara observed his expression as she slowly returned to the table. She didn't ask about his search results or say anything, acting as if nothing had happened.

She changed the topic. "You said that place, Indian Hill, is really that scary?"

"If my memory serves me right, it is. Just open the doors to that underground lab, and there are deformed monsters everywhere." Su Ming described the scenes he'd seen from the series *Gotham*: "But let me correct one thing: Deathstroke never gets scared, and he never abandons a mission."

"Then what is your mission? I don't think anyone would pay you to save me and my dad. We don't have that kind of money," Barbara asked again.

She was very clear about her family's financial situation. Before she was paralyzed, she had been managing the household. She knew exactly how much they made each month, how much they spent on food and daily necessities, and kept meticulous records of every penny in her little notebook.

Previously, she'd heard on TV that Deathstroke's base rate for killing someone was $2 million, and rescuing people was even more troublesome. There was no way she could come up with that kind of money.

Su Ming glanced at her. Her transformation was almost visible to the naked eye. In such a short time, she had accepted everything that had happened and was able to think clearly.

She had seemed like a naive village girl before, but now she could stay calm around mercenaries. It was true that people had different potential.

"Our mission isn't something I can tell you. Once everything is over, ask your father," Su Ming said, flicking the ash off his cigar onto the table. A small patch of Batgirl's shiny metal table turned yellow and tarnished. 

But he figured it would be Alfred who'd have to deal with it later. Su Ming had some respect for the old butler and decided not to flick any more ash on the table—he'd do it on the floor instead.

He brushed off the young girl's question. There were some things she wasn't ready to handle yet. If this had been Oracle from the main universe, maybe he would've shared more and asked her advice. But for now, finding Commissioner Gordon and learning what he knew was the priority.

Barbara listened to Su Ming, lowered her head as if she'd understood something, and absentmindedly fiddled with the sleeves of her sweater, which were now pilling from constant rubbing.

Vic, meanwhile, had finished her work. Breathing heavily, she dragged Pete over to the table and slumped down, feeling the cold metal against her face like she was exhausted.

Su Ming slid the half-empty bottle of liquor across the table to her, and she took a swig without hesitation.

"I need to tell you something. We've found the enemy's base. Our next move is to rescue Commissioner Gordon."

"Huh? Isn't that a good thing?" Vic pulled the bottle from her mouth, making a popping sound, her pretty face full of confusion. Why the serious tone? Was he planning to go back on his word and not let her film the news?

"However, the enemy base is unexpected, and I'm now 100% sure it's a trap. If you continue following us, you'll be in significant danger—life-threatening danger."

As Su Ming spoke, he noticed Pete's face growing paler by the second. He looked on the verge of breaking down.

Vic's eyes darted around. She didn't know the meaning of the word "give up." She pointed at Barbara beside her, "Then, is this little girl going with you?"

"If she doesn't, Commissioner Gordon won't trust us. So Barbara has to come along, and we'll protect her. But you're different. Cindy and I only have two pairs of hands. We can't protect you both."

Su Ming nodded, openly admitting the truth.

Vic didn't even hesitate. Her fiery red head bobbed up and down like a chicken pecking at grain. She didn't care about her life; she just wanted the news.

"We'll go with you. After all, how can such powerful warriors like you not have a journalist to capture your heroic deeds? By the way, Mr. Deathstroke, as a man in the mercenary business, what are your thoughts on the growing men's rights movement in recent years?"

If he had a fake eye in his empty right eye socket, Su Ming would have popped it out and thrown it at her so she could see what it meant to roll her eyes. This woman really had something wrong in her head. What did the men's rights movement have to do with him?

"You'd better ask your partner over there. He looks like he's about to pee himself. The answer will be all over your shoes," he said, nodding towards Pete, who was huddled like a pile of mush beside her. "If you decide to come, I should tell you that this is a biochemical crisis. You'd better prepare hazmat suits and gas masks."

"Cool!" Vic immediately stood up and kicked Pete to get him to search for hazmat suits in the Batcave. "I've been waiting for a biochemical outbreak for ages! Finally, it's happening. Praise Hera!"

"Alright, if you find any, get one for Barbara too. Help her get it on." Su Ming didn't bother arguing with her. She wouldn't die, no matter how hard she tried. So he just let her be.

"You two don't need them?" Vic readily agreed but still asked if he and Cindy needed suits.

"No need. Our helmets have chemical defense functions, and our bodies are far beyond normal human standards. We'll know when it's time to pull back."

Hearing Su Ming's words, she immediately pulled out a small notebook and jotted something down: *Suspected enhanced human*. Then she made an "OK" sign and dashed off.

"Do you like red-haired women?" Barbara suddenly asked beside him, nearly making Su Ming choke.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Because it seems like you're quite lenient with Miss Vale," Barbara said, looking at him with a probing gaze, an inexplicable expression on her face.

"I'm lenient with you too, and you're a redhead as well. But that doesn't mean anything," Su Ming said, patting her head to stop her from overthinking. He suggested she use the time to charge her laptop instead. "If I didn't want you to see your father right away, I'd have left you here to provide us with remote intel support."

"But didn't you just say you needed me to gain my father's trust?" Barbara frowned. She thought she was valuable. In her limited understanding, people in the shadows always valued others based on their utility.

"That's just what I told Vic. Even if I didn't take you, do you think Gordon would have any other choice with four blades at his throat? He'll thank us afterward, anyway."

Su Ming blew out a puff of smoke, watching as it swirled through the cave, shifting into shapes—first a skull, then a bat.

Of course, this was another lie. In the TV series, that underground lab was filled with countless electronic devices and security doors. Without Barbara, aka Oracle, he and Cindy would have been in serious trouble.

Barbara blushed, having misunderstood his words. Her imagination led her down a different path.

"Does he mean he likes girls like me? But... I'm a police officer's daughter. What should I do? But... he's actually quite reliable. But my legs..."

At her age, it was easy to think of that sort of thing, especially when it felt like a forbidden attraction between them, which made her heart race even more.

Right now, he'd appeared just when she felt most helpless. Though he'd initially only brought her fear, that fear had gradually transformed into something else. Her heart beat in an inexplicable rhythm.

This was what psychology called the suspension bridge effect: people in dangerous environments tend to develop affection for the opposite sex with them. 

It was a survival instinct hardcoded into human DNA, a relic from ancient times when people had to ensure the continuation of the species in times of crisis.

It could also be a form of compliance psychology, like the well-known Stockholm syndrome. Cases like the 'basement slave' incidents showed how people subjected to long-term abuse might end up aiding their captors.

When a strong figure completely controls a weaker person's life and freedom, even a little kindness from the strong figure would be magnified in the weak person's eyes. Over time, the weak would develop a sense of worship and total submission to the strong.

This led psychologists to propose a famous hypothesis: humans could be domesticated, just like cats and dogs.

But Su Ming had none of this on his mind. He was entirely focused on survival.

As Barbara's thoughts wandered, and Su Ming smoked and considered his plans, Cindy returned. She came down the spiral staircase, carrying a huge roast turkey in one hand and a pot in the other.

"I found this upstairs, already cooked. But I don't think there's a holiday for eating turkey right now, is there? Can't figure out why they had it. I threw some

 potatoes, onions, and other vegetables into the pot. Let's make do."

The three of them gathered around the metal table and began their unconventional dinner. Cindy was curious about what Vic and Pete were rummaging through in the distance but couldn't be bothered to check. Su Ming was there to handle things, and compared to past missions, this one felt surprisingly relaxed.

Her mind was already considering how to keep Su Ming as a partner if they survived this global crisis.

Su Ming had been right. Without friends, business would only get narrower. For the sake of her future free life, it was time to find a partner.

Who would be the best fit? Naturally, it would be Su Ming, the Deathstroke from another world, someone who worked so seamlessly with her.