Though he said that, Bucky's hands never stopped moving. The Minotaur's attacks were powerful and heavy, while Bucky darted around it, weaving up and down as his punches whipped up gusts of wind.
Deathstroke truly had no intention of stepping in. He merely folded his arms and watched the show.
There was not much to watch, really. Minotaurs were underground creatures that relied entirely on brute force, failed creations of the Celestials. They were indeed tall and brawny, but their upper limit was right there.
Besides, Su Ming had no idea where a bull's centerline was supposed to be. Judging by Bucky's height, he could only reach its balls, right?
"Give me a hand! The moment I opened my eyes today, I saw bugs trying to eat my head. Then I crawled into the sewers and ran into this thing. This is too hard!" Bucky was still calling for help. Honestly, he was quite happy to see Deathstroke.
After all, fewer and fewer people he knew from World War II had survived to the present. Every one of them could be called an old friend. He had been unconscious for so many years—how could he not be happy to see one again?
Deathstroke had saved him back then, so he should count as one of their own.
Su Ming did not state his position, and Jessica said nothing either. Wade, however, sidled up to Sharon beside him, hoping to get her contact information.
But no matter how much nonsense he spouted, she ignored him completely and even showed intense wariness.
"Hey! You cow over there, can you understand surface language?"
Deathstroke chose to try talking to the bull. If it was a member of the Underground Metropolis, there would be no need to kill one of Shakira's people.
Unfortunately, it