"'My Lord' clearly has only six letters, yet it's a seven-person group. Why seven again?"
Without Deathstroke saying anything, Bobo had learned to ask the question first. He counted on his fingers to keep from getting it wrong, wearing the sort of baffled expression that looked like a question mark.
He had noticed the number seven immediately as well. Apparently, Deathstroke's influence had made him a little allergic to that number.
"It's simple. If you write out the phrase 'My Lord,' you'll see there's a space in the middle. That space represents another faction too." Su Ming shrugged, looking over everyone's faces as he pulled several cases of beer from his waist pouch. "The alien's memories only contained the identities of six parties, including himself. The person represented by the blank was extremely mysterious. At the very least, these aliens didn't know who it was."
The Lighthouse was fairly spacious, though the air smelled faintly scorched, and quite a few instruments were still smoking. It looked like a potential fire hazard.
But Strangle could handle that. They merely found a corner and tied up the unconscious command staff. Since Kaine was a martial arts master, they used Donna's lasso to bind him for the time being, just to be safe.
Since they were about to dig up and eliminate all six known factions, they might need the Speed Force frequently. Before that, they had to make sure Wally was full, so Su Ming needed to order everyone a late-night meal.
Chocolate should have been the first choice on a rainy day, but it couldn't serve as a staple food. So Su Ming supplied the beer and called ZJS Express.
No matter whether you were at the ends of the earth, or even in an Alternate Dimension, as long as the