After the meal was finished and everything that needed to be said had been said, Gotham's Crime Prince stood up and stretched his waist, sending his little red skirt swaying from side to side.
"Lai Lai, I told you, the key to everything is the story. When a story gets too grand, that Deathstroke will seize the chance to profit from it." Joker stroked Punchline's head as though petting a cat, though he was actually wiping his hands on her hair. "Conversely, as long as there's nothing in our story worth his attention, he can't be bothered to join our little game. Wouldn't it be better for him to watch monkeys jumping through fire hoops at the circus?"
Luthor rose as well. The wig made his scalp itch, but after hearing Joker's words, even the top of his head seemed to feel cooler.
Joker was right. Everyone in the Legion of Doom was still alive now. Even Grodd had returned to his own country, and Deathstroke had merely extorted three gorillas from him. That barely counted as a price.
If he merely competed with Superman and kept matters below a certain level, Deathstroke might truly not consider this sort of conflict worth his time.
Mercenaries had always made their fortunes from conflict, but they were not career soldiers. They chose assignments they liked.
Just like the game between Joker and Batman: it was mentally exhausting, and the whole story was confined to Gotham. There was clearly no profit in it.
"Very good. You really are useful to us." Luthor was quite satisfied. When he had recruited Joker into the Legion of Doom last time, it had been precisely because he valued his intelligence. "As for the chemical laboratory you want, I'll have Mercy arrange it for you."
"Hehehehe. That isn't