A moment later, Ciri and Parham had dealt with most of the Sorcerers and were now watching from nearby to see how Deathstroke would handle Gibborim.
Ghost Rider had done much of the work. His Penance Stare was simply devastating against demons.
His flaming lasso swung twice through the air. Once it caught someone, he yanked them beneath his horse. The fire in the skull's eye sockets flashed, and the victim instantly turned into a pile of pale ash.
Moreover, Ghost Rider had extremely high Magic Resistance. Ordinary bullets, blades, and swords posed no threat to him. He had taken care of most of the Sorcerers, while Ciri only needed to keep pursuing those who used badges to flee.
Clearing out the minions was naturally good news for Su Ming, but not for Gibborim. He grew more and more panicked, yet he could not escape at all. Deathstroke always followed at just the right distance, like a cat toying with a Mouse.
Amid the desolate mountains, Gibborim's bald head reflected the sunlight like a beacon.
Su Ming could not say exactly where they were, but it was probably somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere. It was still summer here, and the sunlight was scorching.
But it did not matter where they were. Gibborim and his people had built a small village in this mountain hollow as their base. There might be something worthwhile inside.
Hurry up and drive him to death, then loot the place.
Su Ming activated Strangle again, producing some indescribable forms. His appearance evolved from the G1 infected body from Biohazard Crisis all the way to G5. The succession of sticky, bloody shapes disgusted not only Gibborim, but even Ciri.
With a miserable expression, she stuck out her little tongue and turned away.
Seeing Gibborim before him, who