"Is the money we got enough for all of us to have some fun at the bar over there?"
Deathstroke did not care how Skye had gotten the money, as long as it could be used for the time being. He pointed toward the end of the street, where neon lights blazed and quite a few drunken people staggered out of the glow, swaying unsteadily through the crowd.
"Prices on Torch Space Station are a little high, but if we're just drinking, don't hire any hostesses, and don't watch the stripping dances, it should be enough." Skye put away her tablet and rubbed the tip of her nose with a finger.
Miles had already taken off his mask. Holding a bottle of mineral water as he drank, he let out a conflicted sigh.
"Scamming people out of money doesn't seem right. We don't have any tea to send the customers, and besides, thinking about how we might still have to destroy this world makes me even sadder."
Spider-Woman Drew was unconcerned. She tugged at the jacket over her red Spider Suit. "I don't see the problem. Virtual digital currency for virtual tea leaves. Seems fair to me."
"Something about that still feels wrong." Miles wore an utterly authentic Black guy question-mark expression.
"Don't overthink it, kid." Deathstroke hooked an arm around Miles's shoulders, crooked a finger at Tony and the others nearby to signal them to follow, then continued explaining to Little Black Spider. "We need to change tactics this time. We can't take this Earth head-on, or by the end, I'm afraid only Loki and I will survive."
"Hehe, what an honor to be held in such high regard."
The evil god trailing behind them immediately bent gracefully in a bow and happily chimed in.
But she was also