The fat general with a sword pointed at him fell silent for a moment. Then he suddenly straightened up, as if he had grown eight inches taller, and even his voice changed.
"When did you start suspecting me?"
"From the moment you showed up." Su Ming tapped his chest with the flat of his sword, signaling him to back away and not stand so close to Hyperion. "There were simply too many holes. I didn't even know where to start. All I can say is, Batman is fucking awesome."
Sure enough, people feared comparison. With Batman and The Batman Who Laughs setting the bar, Nighthawk fell far short by comparison.
"Could you tell me?" Nighthawk raised both hands in surrender and slowly backed away.
"Trying to stall for time while spraying liquid explosives from the soles of your shoes to blast through the rooftop? Not a bad plan." Su Ming pointed at the ground and commented on Nighthawk's little move. Such tricks were useless before Strangle. The faintest chemical scent had already been detected, and it had licked up and eaten all that toothpaste-like transparent explosive.
And perhaps due to some compulsive habit, Nighthawk had even drawn a little bird while applying the explosives. Another inherited and utterly unnecessary step.
"..."
Nighthawk said nothing. He merely stared blankly at Deathstroke, the corners of his mouth turning downward as though he was wondering about something.
"All right, you'd better not try using the little dart hidden under your tongue against me. I'm immune to electric shocks." Su Ming turned Godslayer back into a scimitar and put it away. "Let's get back to the point. You wanted to know when I spotted the flaws, so I'll explain."
"Please." Nighthawk narrowed his eyes.
"First, the rank of your disguise was too high. A