Su Ming smiled at Ulysses, who was sprawled in the roadside puddles, and the other man politely looked up and smiled back.
"Strangle."
Black tendrils instantly emerged from the Mercenary's body. This time, they were much thinner, boring into the hacker's spine like needles and thread.
Reading the memories of a living organism was possible, but it could only retrieve recent memories, and the process was extremely painful.
But a mere Mexican Gangster was not worth Deathstroke's consideration. Flipping Brother Eye programs and casually using botnets to kill a fat shut-in and a deadbeat gamer were enough to show that he was no harmless sort. He had the makings of a Batman figurine.
"Aaaah!!!"
The Mexican man, suffering pain equivalent to countless simultaneous bone marrow punctures, rolled wildly across the ground. Yet among the group, only Wally showed a hint of pity and turned his head away.
Damian watched the man rolling in the rain without expression. Donna was equally indifferent, while Bobo was even focused on packing his pipe, about as absorbed as Shazam was beside him while looking down at his phone.
Even if Ulysses died here in agony and tore off his own skin and skull, no one would speak for him.
But Su Ming was thinking about something else.
That was—Batman had so many figurines, but Arkham, that display cabinet for figurines, seemed not to have a hacker type.
Hmm, among Gotham's lunatics, whose computer skills were the best again? Mister Freeze? Or Hush? Doctor Hugo?
In any case, none of them were professional hackers. Knowing how to use computers did not mean they excelled at network intrusion. This was the new direction of crime. The old figurines were all competing in the red ocean, while no one had opened up this blue ocean.
So he