Miss Poole pursed her lips speechlessly. Having been squeezed out by the crowd, she seemed to have instantly fallen out of favor. Perhaps, in the eyes of these Spider-Men whose lives Deathstroke had saved, she was nothing but a rumor-spreading bitch?
But Gwen did not care. To her, these people were merely comic-book characters. She would not feel ashamed because of the thoughts or stares of paper people.
What she cared about more was whether this really was Deathstroke. Could he have been Two-Face from Gotham in disguise? How was he so good at playing a hero?
The answer was simply that he catered to their preferences.
Superheroes rarely formed alliances based on profit. More often, they joined together to uphold justice because they shared the same spirit.
But how could one tell what another person was thinking? They said the human heart was hidden behind the belly. Unless one had psychic powers, there was truly no good way to judge what a person was really like.
At times like this, one had to look at what they did, listen to what they said, and use those indirect signs to determine whether they were compatible.
For Spider-Men, the famous saying, "With great power comes great responsibility," was practically a divine line for winning favor.
The no-killing principle worked the same way. Although quite a few Spider-Men did kill, every Spider-Man who had remained behind was a weakling in combat. The only one with any fighting ability, the Captain Universe Spider, had been knocked unconscious because Deathstroke had deliberately arrived late.
The Spider-Men present all believed in not killing, so this won him another wave of goodwill.
The values revealed in his words, combined with the life-saving favor from earlier, made these pitiful Little Bugs regard Deathstroke as a "partner of