Throw Cyborg back into the Hall of Justice. Maybe if they checked on him again after a while, he would be in a state where he could read minds.
Right now, just looking at Little Black Guy, Su Ming knew his head was full of gibberish. Nothing could be gotten out of him anytime soon, and overly intense methods were not suitable for use on him either, or Batwoman would have another episode.
So he might as well take this opportunity to go have a drink with his animal companion.
The teleportation was carried out through a totem. Su Ming had once left a Spider Totem in the bar's wine cellar, just in case.
With a flash of light, he and the cockroach appeared in darkness. Music and noisy voices drifted down from overhead, and the place sounded lively.
"Where is this?" Ezekiel crawled around anxiously inside the jar. "My merciful Father, you move within our hearts as you move in Heaven. Please bless me and keep Deathstroke from selling me to Hell."
"Although the bar snacks here are generally unbelievably terrible, because this is United Kingdom cuisine." Su Ming headed up the stairs while speaking to the cockroach in the jar. "But this really isn't Hell, at least not most of the time. You'll stay here from now on. This is a Pocket Dimension, the stable kind, so some lunatic doesn't drag you away again."
The cockroach stared fixedly at Deathstroke, because it felt that he was the biggest lunatic of all. Not just anyone could coexist peacefully with Charlie's personalities; only a madman could do that.
But it did not dare say anything. It had absolutely no fighting ability, so what else could it do but follow orders?
Su Ming pushed open the door with practiced ease and