"Hey!"
Listening to the distant racket, which sounded like an earth rammer pounding hard enough to cause an earthquake, Witch Circe finally couldn't help interrupting them.
"Your boss is getting beaten up by some huge alien right now. Aren't you going to do anything?"
Amazo ignored Witch Circe. He had taken no interest in her from the moment they met.
This was also one of the limitations Amazo had never been able to overcome: he couldn't copy magical abilities.
Chronos gave a contemptuous snort.
"Newbie, as far as I know, there's probably no one left on Earth who can beat the hell out of our boss. Not even Superman."
Before Circe could consider whether Chronos's shocking claim was true, Shane's slightly exasperated voice came from behind them.
"Even I wouldn't dare make a boast like that. You've really got some nerve."
Circe turned to see Lobo, who had been raging with such overbearing arrogance moments earlier, dangling from Shane's hand like a dead dog. Even the tangled black hair that should have hung to his shoulders had been ripped halfway off his pale head.
Lobo, who had been swaggering around after being forcibly shaken awake from his drunken stupor, was now complaining in a tearful voice.
"Who pulls hair in a fight? What a bastard." As he spoke, he shook his head, his remaining half-head of hair swaying beside his face.
"Enough. It's not like it won't grow back."
Shane casually tossed Lobo to the ground and dusted off his hands.
Lobo groaned as he climbed to his feet.
"Hair is pretty much the slowest-regenerating tissue on my body. Anyway, what's the job this time?"
Shane looked around at everyone's state of mind with satisfaction.
"We're going somewhere pretty far away this time. Chronos, can your armor let you operate