For some reason, whenever Su Ming saw a Dark Elf leap from a building to evade an attack, he always looked forward to seeing what shape their bloodstain would make on the ground.
Some bloodstains looked like butterflies, some like little trees, and some like suits. There were countless patterns, but overall, they all looked like corpses.
"You think this looks like a Rorschach Inkblot Test, right?" Harley lay sprawled across Deathstroke's back, resting her head on his shoulder as she smiled. "And you immediately thought of what they resembled. Let me guess, you mostly think those bloodstains look like internal organs?"
Watching Wade finish off the Dark Elves who had survived the fall, Su Ming raised a hand and stroked Harley's cheek by his shoulder.
"You got it right again, Sugar Bean. Looks like I'm pretty easy to understand."
In truth, Deathstroke had merely been working out his cold joke about bloodstains all looking like corpses. But since Harley had something to say, he let her say it.
"Oh, I just worked backward from some psychological criteria. The Rorschach Inkblot Test can't be considered a particularly accurate basis for judging personality. It can only be used for psychological research, not to diagnose illnesses. But statistics show that if someone looking at Rorschach inkblots thinks more than ninety percent of the images resemble human organs, that person is highly likely to want to commit suicide. Hee hee!"
She blinked a few times, looking rather proud as she pulled out a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and put them on. She looked very professional, except she lacked business attire—a white blouse and pencil skirt, for instance.
"That's true. But whenever I realize I want to kill myself, it gives me a scare, so I hurry up and kill a few people to