The Moon's gray ground looked snow-white beneath the light as a green figure dragged a serrated longsword and walked toward them step by step.
His Flying Motorcycle had been tossed not far behind him, still billowing thick smoke. He seemed injured as well, looking exhausted and bewildered.
Even so, Deathstroke blocked his path.
"Ord?"
". Is that you? No, you aren't."
He barely managed to pull himself together again, his two soybean-sized black eyes fixed on the black-and-yellow masked man before him.
But this was not the person he had been searching for. The one he sought should have been covered in rot, brownish-yellow pus streaming from every part of his body.
Su Ming sighed and raised the blade in his hand. "I thought I would be dealing with a warrior who had both courage and wisdom, but all I see now is a stray dog. Still, you are indeed the one I came for."
How should he put it? Perhaps the intelligence he had read from the man's wife's mind had been exaggerated. In those memories, Ord had seemed omnipotent and exceptionally resourceful.
This time, Deathstroke had prepared every trick in the book for dealing with Batwoman-type enemies. He had even made several backup plans.
Yet all it took was one blow to the man's faith, and everything was over. It was like throwing a fully charged punch into cotton.
"No, wait, so it was you." Light suddenly appeared in Ord's eyes. He stared at Deathstroke's mask, at that red one-eyed lens. "You know my name and my past. Then you were the one who spread the videos and sabotaged my plans."
"It was me, and the later 'Evil God Rolling in Bed' video was my idea too." Su Ming nodded, wiping the blade with his palm. "All right.