Amanda had not even had time to step aside before Deathstroke had already taken everyone down. More precisely, Amanda had been standing directly in his path, yet she had not seen how he got past her, nor had she even heard the sound of him moving.
Deathstroke took them down quickly as well. At the moment, Batman was basically the only one who could see clearly. This guy made perfect use of every part of his body; every strike landed with pinpoint precision, without a single unnecessary movement. It was practically a martial arts performance.
If Gotham's lunatics had mastered the elegant art of killing, then Deathstroke represented violence at its most beautiful. Every move was complete the instant he made it, with no need for mid-course adjustments. The entire process was like a meticulously choreographed action movie.
Deathstroke stood amid the pile of fallen people with his arms folded and said, "I won't demonstrate my marksmanship. In short, I can use any firearm you've heard of, seen before, or that exists in the world. The same goes for cold weapons. That's about it."
Amanda nodded, feeling that this level of demonstration was enough. Deathstroke's abilities were basically public knowledge, and they already had plenty of data on paper. There was no need to investigate further.
"I'm next," Dot Man said. "You can call me Dot Person. My ability is firing colorful dots. Like this."
He stood there, pursing his lips as though holding his breath for quite a while, then stretched out a hand toward the distance. Countless colorful dots flew over and smashed into the ground, but they did not even leave a dent.
"What use is that?" Pamela asked sincerely. She genuinely could not see what was special about it. It looked a little like paintballs, as