The only difference was that the man who opened the door today was not carrying dinner. Instead, a smile lingered in his one eye as he studied the singing doctor.
Once the slightly off-key little tune ended, the other man gave a token round of applause and said:
"Get up and talk. Are you sure you want to learn magic?"
"Could it be... you are?!"
Strange had knelt for an entire day. His legs were numb, so how could he simply stand up? Still, the carefully groomed mustache above his lip uncontrollably curled upward.
The one-eyed man in casual clothes smiled and nodded. His outfit instantly twisted into black-and-yellow armor. "That's right. I'm Deathstroke, the Sorcerer Supreme of the Main Dimension—the man you're looking for."
Strange dropped onto the ground, shaking his head in disbelief as though he had seen something unimaginable.
His pupils dilated, his hands trembled, and he asked in shock:
"Deathstroke... the Deathstroke I've heard of?"
"Looks like you enjoyed bedtime stories as a child too. Now that you've seen your childhood nightmare in person, how do you feel?"
Su Ming took out a cigarette, lit it, and put it in his mouth, watching the doctor with great interest.
Strange had fairly strong mental fortitude and quickly calmed down. Having seen the Magic World, his perspective had already surpassed what it once was.
Over the past few days, he had learned from Huaxi Village's residents and passing visitors that the Sorcerer Supreme, as the representative of the white mages in the Magic World, was unquestionably a completely positive figure. Those terrifying childhood stories must have been nothing more than mortal misunderstandings!
Deathstroke did not need to explain anything. Strange's imagination had already supplied every reason. He pressed his forehead to the ground and shouted:
"Please accept me