Su Ming looked down and saw a crater in his chest. The armor formed by Strangle had been partially melted away, exposing charred, curled, ragged edges.
A large chunk of flesh was missing from his chest, enough to reveal the ribs made of Tenth Metal. Faint smoke rose from the wound, carrying the scent of roasted meat.
"Mm, Deathstroke, you smell delicious."
Though Bobo was worried, he had to maintain his disdainful-maze persona. Rather than directly asking whether Deathstroke was all right, he chose to test him with a joke.
If Deathstroke could easily answer the joke, it meant he was fine. Otherwise, they might have to change tactics.
"I smell it too, but generally speaking, I still wouldn't recommend that men lick my chest."
Su Ming knocked away the opponent's armored flying fist, lowered his hand, and patted his chest. The wound wriggled as it rapidly healed. Strangle even showed off a little, growing the patch into a bat emblem.
"These Omega Beams are pretty well used—unpredictable and elusive. Shame it isn't Darkseid himself. Anyone else using this skill is still trash. Putting this kind of mini-boss in the maze is really lame."
Detective Chimp breathed a sigh of relief. Cradled in Lorna's arms like a throw pillow, he spoke in an arrogant chinese accent with a Taiwanese lilt. "Exactly! This maze is totally lame!"
"Talking like that is planting a flag. You'll probably be swollen and sore tomorrow." Su Ming had no idea where the chimp had learned that Taiwanese accent, but he replied with a smile before fixing his gaze on the shadow at the other end of the corridor. "Just stand there and watch. I'll play with this elite monster."
The enemy was a pitch-black lump, its silhouette resembling Darkseid. Its sudden appearance from the darkness