Drinking, listening to music, snacking on bar food, and occasionally chatting with the bartender.
They waited for a long time, but no one came to tell Su Ming that the witch wanted to see them or anything of the sort.
Instead, the Legion of Doom members kept coming over to ask Deathstroke for gold, as if they had become addicted to shopping.
"Such a naughty old lady. Really naughty." As Su Ming grumbled to Luthor, he pulled out another Gold Biscuit and slapped it into Cheetah's furry paw. "Earlier, I said I had a feeling someone would come looking for us soon. Maybe she overheard me, so she deliberately refused to show up. She's messing with me."
"If what you said is true, and the people in this village haven't seen outsiders in a year, it's only natural that the witch would want to play with us outsiders a little longer." Luthor sat steadily on his barstool and had stopped drinking. He did not care what others thought; he simply found this village noisy.
But when it came to magic, something he barely understood, he knew that being anxious would not help. Even Deathstroke was sitting here drinking and waiting, which meant there was no better option.
Deathstroke, who had ordered another drink, smiled and shook his head. He calmly watched the golden liquor pour into his glass, striking the sides and sending ripples across its surface.
The Good Witch could actually be seen as Parrot Fairy's Otherworld Variant. Each had her own advantages.
She could not preserve her beauty and youth like Parrot Fairy. Unlike the other woman, who would remain youthful and beautiful even until death by old age, she looked her age—and had utterly failed at managing her figure, growing so fat that her waistline was nearly