What had the Black doctor thrown to Deathstroke? It was actually nothing remarkable—a can.
It was not much smaller than a palm and looked a little like Spam Luncheon Meat, only with more fashionable packaging.
The front of the label showed a large bowl filled with steaming soybean soup, dotted with carrots and chunks of meat. It looked quite appetizing.
Then there was the ingredient list. Not only was it loaded with sugar, but it also contained a great deal of salt. God knew what it tasted like.
But that was not the important part. What drew more attention was the product name, written in cosmically colorful lettering alongside its slogan:
"Multiverse Beans, Super Strength from the Multiverse."
Bobo could not help reading it aloud, then burst out laughing. The ape slowly shook his head and said with a chuckle:
"What kind of idiotic scam is this? Even if canned food could give you power, it would at least have to be canned spinach, right?"
"Ah, I did not believe it at first either."
Mister Terrific, busy at work, nodded. Even in the face of doubt, he calmly detached one of Cyborg's legs. No one knew how he had disabled the Mother Box's self-repair function, but Cyborg now resembled a muscular Barbie doll, freely manipulated by him.
"But I looked into it a little. The company producing these bean soup cans claimed that all their ingredients came from the multiverse, with no fakery involved. That piqued my curiosity. So I bought several cans. As canned soup went, it was neither cheap nor expensive. Yet a can this small actually cost fifteen US Dollars."
"Skip the irrelevant details. What were the test results?"
Bobo took out his pipe and began packing it with tobacco. He knew that Michael, as a scientist,