After a moment, Ciri and Palham had already dealt with most of the Warlocks, now watching from not far away to see how Deathstroke handled Jibo.
Evil Spirit Knight contributed greatly; his Eye of Judgment had a deadly impact on the Demon.
The flaming lasso swung twice in the air, dragging the person caught down from the horse; the flame in the skeleton's eye sockets flickered, and the opponent instantly turned into a puddle of ghastly white ash.
Additionally, the Evil Spirit Knight's magic resistance was extremely high, ordinary bullets or swords couldn't threaten him; most of the Warlocks were dealt with by him, and Ciri only needed to keep tracking the ones fleeing using the medallion.
Clearing out the grunts was, of course, good news for Su Ming, but it was different for Jibo; he grew increasingly panicked but was unable to escape. Deathstroke constantly shadowed him, like a cat chasing a mouse.
In a desolate wilderness, Jibo's bald head reflected the sunlight, like a guiding beacon.
Su Ming couldn't specify where exactly this place was, but it should be somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere, because it was still summer here, and the sunlight was very intense.
But it didn't matter where this was. Jibo and his people built a small village in this mountain valley as their base, maybe there were some good things to find.
Quickly force him to death, then ransack.
Su Ming initiated Strangulation again, displaying some indescribable forms, evolving his appearance from a Biohazard G1 infected form all the way to G5; this series of sticky, gory forms not only disgusted Jibo but even Ciri.
She grimaced and stuck out her tongue, turning her head away.
..........
Watching Jibo, who was halfway through casting a spell but suddenly foaming at the mouth, contracting into a ball, and instantly turning into a charred coal-like form, as crisp as a doll roasted in a fireplace, Su Ming grinned slightly.
Even though he knew that being dragged to death by the casting cost often resulted in terrible deaths, this kind of internal-to-external collapse, smoking and burning like a candle, was a sight he was seeing for the first time.
Indeed, magic can cause people to die in bizarre ways; in comparison, Inverted Man, and the Demon God on the Marvel side, lacked some creativity.
But since the internal organs and brain were burned out, Strangulation couldn't retrieve memories by consuming the brain; it seemed they still had to go to Jibo's small base to search for clues using old methods.
Originally, Jibo, no matter how short, was still about one meter sixty-something, slightly taller than Wolverine.
Now, after the Demon Gods had taken the cost away, he had shrunk to less than a little monkey, probably only a few dozen centimeters, with limbs and facial features tightly contracted together, his whole body pitch black, the skin having a metallic luster.
Su Ming thought for a moment, put away this small corpse, stuffed it into his waist pouch, and sighed.
Jibo's emblem +1.
"What? Are you really showing a moment of reluctance?" Ciri walked over, annoyed, bypassing the slick ice-covered ground and still-burning magma, pouting with an unhappy expression.
Clearly able to crush the enemy with sheer power, yet insisting on conjuring up so many disgusting things, too dark.
Su Ming glanced at her inexplicably: "No, I'm going to take Jibo back to Kama Taiji, put him in a jar as a negative example, to let the apprentices know the consequences of siding with the Evil God and becoming a traitor... but his facial features have shrunk so much that you can't recognize his original appearance, making me have to hang a tag on him; I don't know if others will believe it. Really bothersome."
Ciri: "..."
She knew she was wrong; she shouldn't have considered whether Deathstroke had any compassion from the start. Perhaps he was generally easy-going and gentle, but once the Black and Yellow Armor was donned, he became a human weapon born solely to fulfill his mission.
Words like pity and forgiveness seemed never to occupy his mind.
"How did you do it?" Palham returned to human form, leading his horse over, and as he spoke, he gestured with his chin: "I saw with my own eyes you were hit by hundreds of powerful magic spells, yet you were unharmed; not even Mephisto could endure such strikes."
Su Ming let Strangulation withdraw the Armor, moved his neck, and glanced at the bruise on his chest after pulling open his collar. It wasn't entirely unharmed, after all, some magic impacts were still felt, but he still smiled and said:
"Press F to enter tank mode; you can do it too."
The former Southern Army officer shrugged and shook his head, knowing that Deathstroke didn't intend to reveal the truth, but was there a need to spout nonsense?
What tank? There's no tank.
"Alright, don't mind those details; I'll treat you to a bath after the mission ends, and if there's anyone from Hollywood you fancy, I'll get a few to entertain you and keep you happy." Su Ming smiled, patting Palham's shoulder, bypassing him and leading the way to float towards the small village they came from.
It was estimated that Palham and Geralt had more in common, as they both liked baths.
"It's a deal."
Palham, usually calm-faced, broke into a smile; a hundred years of life as an Evil Spirit Knight made him more eager to find a sense of living.
Actually, he doesn't like movie stars; what he prefers is the cheapest streetwalkers at roadside inns, just like his former lover...
But reality is like this, she is dead, and others are not her, and there is nothing worth choosing anymore. Besides the flames of revenge, he can hardly tell how much humanity he still has left.
Not understanding completely, Ciri sighed, feeling as though she had entered the rhythm of a Demon Hunter's task once again.
Taking the task, killing monsters, getting paid, bathing; she and Geralt had always lived like this, and here too, Deathstroke does the same. Is life just this endless cycle of repetition?
Thoughtfully, she activated Flash, being the first to return to the enemy base.
Originally, this was a hill, with extremely solid red soil. Jibo's men, together with the Nazi Warlock Assault Team, had dug several entrances here, then lived inside the hill.
Regardless, Ciri felt from a distance, it looked like a giant burial mound, but Deathstroke insisted it was a small base; truly strange.
Just to be safe, she drew a venomous Steel Sword, stepping over the corpses at the gate, and walked into the hill.
Beyond the gate was a very wide tunnel, like the main trunk of a tree, branching out and connecting in all directions.
Above her were abnormally bright giant lights, with a faint damp cave-like scent in the air; weak air currents felt like little animals licking her exposed skin with their cool little tongues, the cold environment making her feel much cooler.
Frankly, from winter Paris, then to the warm Immortal Palace, now into the hot mountain area, within just a few minutes, she found it rather interesting.
"Hmm? There really are tanks here?"
Seeing there were no living people, Ciri hopped and skipped towards the tank at the end of the tunnel.
From the start, Deathstroke and others were thrown by the Rainbow Bridge to the door here; under the assault, the enemy was unable to form effective resistance, forced to retreat through another door, only to be exhausted to death by Deathstroke; a truly pitiful end.
As for gathering intelligence, better let Deathstroke handle it; she just wanted to drive a tank and go for a spin now.
While she went to refuel the tank, Su Ming and Palham also entered this gigantic bunker.
Honestly, if it weren't for Heimdall's sharp eyes, even satellites might not discern this gigantic structure hidden like a mountain here.
But at this stage, bringing Palham and Ciri's drawbacks also surfaced; neither were patient enough to search for clues.
The officer simply didn't know what Deathstroke was looking for, and he was not knowledgeable about magic and technology-related stuff. While Ciri's attention was unfocused, often spacing out, places she searched still needed Su Ming to personally search again, wasting effort.
In the realm of Marvel, there were rarely professionals like Little Fortune Ape, Steel Armor, and Barry who specialized in support; before Natasha or King matured, Su Ming relied on himself for a long time.
"Hmm... waste paper, leftovers, kitchen trash, this is a waste disposal facility." Su Ming briefly browsed through the metal pit's contents, uninterestedly leading Palham to continue searching the next room.
"Waste disposal? Wouldn't tossing it in the wild to feed beasts and insects be more convenient?" Palham found it difficult to understand.
"Perhaps they need biogas; speaking of which, it is a clean energy." Su Ming casually pushed the next door open, then turned on the light, indifferent to whether Jibo had good environmental awareness or was simply a miser; he was ultimately fated to die.
"This is a communal dining area and kitchen, clearly visible." Palham pointed at the massive pots and stoves over there, still holding his black horse.
"No problem, take your time; just help me keep an eye out for secret chambers. In my experience, those doing bad deeds usually have guilty consciences, inclined to set up secret rooms in their lairs to store secrets. Find it, and the problem is solved."
Su Ming exited the room again; Strangulation sensed nothing unusually different inside.
"Oh, might it be above us?" Palham pointed upwards, "Since this is a dug-out space within a mountain, it's unlikely the ceiling is all rock; otherwise, size-wise, surrounding these columns and walls, couldn't support such weight."
Su Ming looked up at the glaring electric lights; standing on the floor it was really hard to see clearly: "Good idea, I'll go check. You keep an eye on Ciri; don't let her fire the cannon."
Instead of flying up immediately, he circled the spacious main tunnel once, discovering a hidden elevator looking just like an ordinary rock wall.
Not only was there an upward option, but also a downward choice; after consideration, he chose to go down first.
No specific reason, just the downward direction felt familiar; probably resonating with the darkness, he felt something down there.
The result was indeed something; in the dark, sinister underground dungeon lay a gigantic magic laboratory researching Human Demon hybrids. There were many beings seeming human, yet with facial features and skin entirely unhuman, hung on hooks like skinned, slaughtered livestock, displayed all around.
With the elevator door opening, these bodies swayed gently in the darkness; the dazzling pale color made Su Ming squint slightly.
"Quite a grand setup, this Jibo character..."