Longhouses were a common architectural form in many countries. Some public bathhouses in Japan used a similar layout. Overall, they resembled long loaves of bread, with the interior divided into sections for different purposes.
Usually, the living room was right by the entrance, used for receiving guests and cooking.
Further back were the family bedrooms, followed by storage rooms for goods, weapons, and the like.
"Has Batwoman arrived?"
As Deathstroke walked toward the rear of the longhouse, he spoke with Sepulk. The rooms were filled with the scent of herbs.
"Just as you predicted, she has arrived in the United States and is currently in contact with Spider-Man."
The Adjutant answered and played a short piece of satellite footage.
In it, Batwoman called herself The Batman Who Laughs, nearly making Su Ming burst out laughing.
"Looks like Dr. Quinzel's medicine worked well. She can even make jokes with a straight face again. I wonder whether Joker is still in her head?" Deathstroke lifted the fur curtain over the doorway and poked his head into the bedroom.
Sure enough, a gaunt old man lay on the bed, barely clinging to life. He appeared unconscious. His family had all gone out to face Ragnarök, but there was no way they could bring him to the battlefield.
No one could fight in another person's place. Honor belonged to whoever earned it. You could not wheel a patient onto the battlefield and hand him kills. That did not count.
"Actually, Batwoman used an antidote developed by Luthor."
The Adjutant showed another recording. As expected, Batwoman had still made a deal with the bald man under cover of night, behind Superman's back.
"Tch. She really was out of her mind back then. If Luthor handed me a drink, I wouldn't dare touch it." Deathstroke walked