"Beyonder... He wasn't quite what I imagined."
Little Rich held the sphere in his hand and casually created a multidimensional space to imprison it. Watching the direction in which the black lion doll had vanished, the boy wore an odd expression.
"I didn't sense any hostility from him. Or rather, he simply didn't care about us. He just wanted to play."
Deathstroke removed his mask and returned to the group with a smile, gently shaking his head.
"Actually, he did care. It's just that he cared most about the game. The emotion he learned from humans was called 'pleasure,' and playing games was the only thing he knew that could make him feel it. So he was seriously addicted to it."
Addiction came in physical and psychological forms. Some people were already filthy rich, yet still liked stealing things from supermarkets. That was the latter kind.
What they sought was not material gain, but the thrill itself. That was addiction.
For psychological satisfaction, many people were willing to pay any price. Plenty would even die just to get their fix.
So if you treated the Original Beyonder as one of the Beyonders, he would be difficult to deal with. But if you treated him as a playful human boy, he was actually easy to fool. Simply put, stroke him the right way and give him what he liked.
Besides, the goal of this operation was not to kill him. They only wanted the Constructors in his possession. Why use blades when words could solve the problem?
"You seem to know him well." Wanda released the spell sign she had been holding, pulled her hand from her sleeve, flexed it, and wiped the sweat from her palm on her clothes.
"More or less. Among the known Beyonders, I do understand him