Two figures, one large and one small, walked into the crime scene once again.
Crush calmed down under Mili's persuasion, not because their relationship was great, but because Crush didn't want that fool to see her being powerless.
Unable to deal with Deathstroke, she could only vent her anger on telephone poles or something....
No one knows who Crush's biological mother is, not even Batman is clear on why Violent Wolf thought of having offspring. He suspects the child's mother might be Darlene, the waitress at Al's Tavern, but that's just a guess, he hasn't told anyone.
The only thing certain is that she is a mixed blood.
Violent Wolf is a Zaniah Star Person, his eyes are completely red with no pupils, while Crush has two pupils.
He is the maddest bounty hunter in the cosmos, having killed everyone on his planet at 17 just to prove his strength.
Additionally, he has a bad temper, and any small thing could lead to a big fight with others. He's also very strong, going toe-to-toe with Superman, and he just can't die. Even after being thrown into the sun by Tyrant during the Metal Event, he recently came back as if nothing happened.
Crush is about fourteen or fifteen years old now, and everything before that is covered by the shroud of history, with the truth unbeknownst to anyone.
Judging by the current circumstances, Violent Wolf must have abandoned her after she was born, and she was raised by a pair of ordinary people in Michigan.
But one day, her foster parents were killed at home, without leaving any valuable clues at the scene.
Crush, now an orphan, could only seek out Violent Wolf, but Violent Wolf didn't care about dead people at all. He casually took a black iron chain off himself and threw it to her, telling her to solve the problem herself.
For example, figure out a way to kill everyone on Earth, then surely her revenge will be complete, isn't that smart?
If she doesn't want revenge, she could follow him and become a cosmic bounty hunter together.
Having been raised by humans, Crush wasn't as crazy as him. After some time, she found she just couldn't get along with her biological father.
Despite the fact that both enjoyed cursing, and their taste in dressing was about the same, her dad liked running around without pants and using 'that thing' as a weapon to fight enemies, have you seen 'that thing' blocking bullets? Violent Wolf could do it....
So she decided to live on her own. No matter what, Crush is a young lady after all. She couldn't stand her dad's constant madness in front of her.
To what extent is he crazy? If compared with Deadpool next door, Wade might say something like he's going to cut the enemy to pieces and defecate down the throat of the corpse while fighting. Violent Wolf often used such curses too.
And then the difference comes, Wade might just say it, but won't do too disgusting things. But Violent Wolf.... he says and he does....
He's not human, don't measure him by human standards. He can do many unimaginable things.
Superman and Ron, both aliens, have assessed Violent Wolf and found only one merit; that he keeps his word, he honors his commitments.
So after leaving her biological dad, Crush eventually made her way to Gotham, fighting in underground arenas. Not the kiddie cage fight stuff, but one person against a group of fully armed thugs in life-and-death battles.
Through such battles, she performed killings for the Gotham rich to watch, so she never lacked money.
When Da Mi approached her, money wasn't a factor in deciding to join the team; it was Da Mi's promise to help her find the murderer of her foster parents.
Did Damian actually try to find them? Uh... before creating a bond, her wish to find the murderer would surely lead her to leave the team, so Damian tricked her. At least so far, he hasn't taken any steps towards finding that clue.
With Da Mi's intelligence, fooling Crush was a cinch, and all these pressures have made Crush more and more irritable.
Seeing Damian obediently walking into the room with him, with the projection of the corpse still hanging there, Su Ming leaned on the piano and started telling Damian stories about It-kind.
There's really not much to tell, just some hybrid creature of vampire and werewolf, but its strength can be mentioned for Damian and his team to compare.
It-kind, being a hybrid that shouldn't exist, has neither weaknesses of vampires nor werewolves and possesses the troublesome abilities of super-speed regeneration and magic immunity.
As for things like extraordinary olfaction, dark vision, high-speed movement, physical resistance, etc., those are just the monster's instincts by comparison.
"So yeah, I advise you guys to hurry back to New York, leave this situation to Batwoman to handle. She's experienced in dealing with Magic Realm creatures."
After praising the monster, Su Ming looked at Damian's reaction. Although he still had a poker face, he gritted his teeth, his muscles tensed, indicating his inner reluctance.
Earlier, when Da Mi met Batman, the Bat pointed them in the right direction, signaling their team to handle it. But now it's clearly beyond their capability, yet if they retreat....
Da Mi and Bruce have been having disagreements recently because of blood relations; he wanted to prove he was strong.
If Batman didn't know about the hunt for It-kind, then retreating is no big deal. But now that Batman knows, Damian doesn't want to return to New York with a tail between his legs.
However, Damian quickly snapped out of it and turned his gaze towards Deathstroke. The opponent is a tactical master and possesses a lot of information. He must have a way to deal with It-kind.
"You know its weakness, how much do you want for the intel?"
The wealthy second-generation Damian directly asked, buying intelligence is quite a natural thing. Even Old Deathstroke spends over ten million on intelligence fees annually. Without his own intelligence network, buying intelligence to understand global trends, this is about the going rate.
So-called intelligence isn't the type of information you can see in the news, but rather the undercurrents hidden beneath the world's calm surface, and it's the trends that truly determine the world's direction.
Constructing one's own intelligence network requires an initial investment of billions that won't even create a splash, let alone the cultivation of loyal subordinates, which is the most difficult part.
The room carries a faint scent of blood, there are dried bloodstains on the piano, while on the floor of the room, there's still a large amount of water stains.
The smell of seawater ascends slowly at night, and the stench of furniture soaked in water lingers around.
It's brighter outside, but the room harbors deeper darkness, the only source of light is the projection, but as illumination, its form is far from beautiful.
Su Ming turned and looked at the corpse projection, casually fiddling with it a few times, causing the projection to start spinning like a windmill. The light emitted from the uneven surface of the corpse varied, creating a disco ball-like effect.
It painted everyone in vibrant colors.
"No, this intelligence is not for sale."
Su Ming said calmly, and Damian glanced at him deeply before turning his head to leave.
"But if you bring your head over for me to play with a bit, I'll teach you how to get the intelligence you want, how about it? Self-sufficiency is better, isn't it?"
As he was nearly out the door, Deathstroke's voice came from behind, causing Damian to halt his steps immediately.
Underneath the hood, his complexion drastically changed.
Why? Why would Otherworldly Deathstroke do this? Having a top-notch assassin teach you methods is certainly better, but why is the condition to let him touch your head?
Himeko withdrew her gaze from the window, glanced at Deathstroke, furrowed her brow but quickly seemed to understand, remaining silent.
"Why?" Damian turned back.
Su Ming raised his head to look at the ceiling, arms crossed: "Because it amuses me."
This indeed was an irrefutable reason, Damian knew he didn't want to reveal the true cause, but Damian couldn't delve deeper.
Earlier, this Deathstroke had plenty of opportunities to snap his neck, yet he chose to release him, so now even if he offered his head, there wasn't really any danger.
"Hey, how about you sacrifice a bit?" Wally suddenly appeared beside Da Mi, whispering.
Billy, while playing with his phone, stuffed a handful of snacks into his mouth, speaking unclearly: "It's not dangerous, you can try, at least he feels better than Batman."
Damian glanced at Crush and Mili again, they just looked at him encouragingly—they wanted to continue investigating this case. As for Himeko, she showed no attitude, her mind wandered elsewhere.
Slowly raising his hands, Damian took off his hood and step by step approached Deathstroke by the piano, and amidst the dancing lights, he felt like he was embarking on a strange and wondrous path.
"Come on."
With a mindset of self-sacrifice, he said calmly.
The mask on Deathstroke's head seemed to retreat like flowing water, revealing a young and handsome face, with a faint smile at the corners of his mouth.
Crush was a bit stunned because she hadn't expected Otherworldly Deathstroke to be so young and handsome. Violent Wolf was thrown into the sun by the Tyrant, yet the Tyrant was directly erased from the world by this Otherworldly Deathstroke. From a certain perspective, this demonstrates a difference in strength.
Mili wasn't particularly affected, she was merely observing, but Wally quickly blocked her view.
"What's there to look at with this old guy, don't look." he muttered quietly.
"Hmm? Really? But by human standards, he should be under thirty, right?" Mili innocently tilted her head, not understanding why Wally referred to him as an old guy.
"Anyway, he's old... yes, he might just look young. Look at me, I have more potential than him." Wally posed in a bodybuilder style, showing off his lean muscles under his suit.
Mili shyly lowered her head: "It's too dark here, I can't see your face clearly...."
Can't see, unclear....
"Pfft."
Black Wally was instantly toppled, while Billy stifled laughter, spewing some food residue from his mouth, which he then wiped back into his mouth with his chubby hand.
Wally's affection for Mili was something he had long noticed, but the two often couldn't connect, frequently talking about different things, causing a bunch of jokes.
"Ah, my wife is still the best." While thinking this, his round, plump fingers stroked his 'wife', the two-dimensional girl on his phone screen, who blossomed with a smile.