Batman had to admit that this guy was stronger than anyone he had ever faced.
Unmatched brute strength, extraordinary fighting skills, and reflexes too fast to belong to a normal human.
During their fight, he could even recognize several of his own regular combat combinations in his opponent's movements.
Like the one the mechanical monster was using now.
A sideways sway, a feint with the left fist, and a heavy right straight to the face.
Caught off guard by the combination yet again, Deathstroke was plastered against the wall like a sheet of flatbread dough.
Turning back, the mechanical monster hooked its opponent's fallen sword up with the tip of its foot and unleashed a storm of slashes at Batman.
A diagonal cut, a rising slash, a straight thrust, a horizontal sweep-the dazzling sequence left the cramped room in ruins.
Amid flying splinters, showers of sparks, and scraps of paper whirling like snowflakes, Batman couldn't even find time to reach for the tools in his belt. All he could do was raise his arms to block.
His bracers were covered in notches, and the impacts had left both hands numb.
Fortunately, he still had Deathstroke as an ally.
Slade kicked off the wall and lunged in from the side, the edge of his Wakizashi aimed straight at a gap in the mechanical monster's armor.
His opponent drew its sword back to block, then twisted its wrist and sliced through the Wakizashi's hilt.
Along with all five of Deathstroke's fingers.
"Fuck, this thing must have copied my abilities..."
Deathstroke grumbled as the hurled sword pierced straight through his body.
Slade collapsed in the corner again, for the third time that night.
For a man who called himself the strongest mercenary, it was nothing short of humiliating.
But his intervention had at