Spacewalks, wild spins, front flips, backflips.
Bobo seemed to have suddenly learned how to fly, constantly performing all sorts of tricks in midair.
As if he had inhaled laughing gas, he wore a crazed grin and bared his teeth at the crowd, cackling wildly.
The wind let him sway, freedom was his direction, and Strangle gave him the power to float.
Bobo's eyes were full of mockery as he watched the Dukes below. Their faces gradually changed from flushed red to livid blue, as though they could not understand what was happening at all.
They sensed no magic, and this was not a fake Bobo. Yet an ordinary chimpanzee was now flying about before their eyes as if defying gravity, while the noose around his neck was clearly pulled taut.
Bobo felt a surge of satisfaction. These people were about to die, yet they did not even know it.
Back in the dungeon, Deathstroke had teased him for a while before finally revealing his plan.
It was simple: since the Dukes wanted to kill the chimpanzee, their side would strike first and kill them all.
If the people who wanted Bobo dead died first, then wouldn't he be safe?
Detective Chimp had hesitated at first. He leaned more toward the nonlethal camp, but Deathstroke had seemed possessed by some domineering CEO, spouting one decisive line after another and leaving Bobo no room to negotiate.
"Anyway, I've taken over Maya. These pieces of trash were going to die sooner or later. If you want to be buried with them, be my guest."
That was what Deathstroke had said. Compared to dying himself, Bobo chose to hand Nightblade over to Diana and let someone else take over the fishpond.
After that, whoever Deathstroke and Little Dai wanted to kill was the new