There definitely hadn't been this piece of skin here before. Su Ming could guarantee that.
Forget a piece of animal hide roasted to a fragrant crisp—even a flake of dandruff would have been detectable by Strangle.
And when Hela lay down, her hands had clearly been empty.
But Su Ming did not rush to question this change. Instead, he handed each of the two women a bottle of soda, signaling for everyone to have a drink and calm down first.
Hela had originally intended to say she did not need one. She had merely just awakened from the illusion and was still somewhat disoriented, which was why she had overreacted.
But when she saw the tiny bubbles crackling and popping inside the glass bottle Deathstroke offered her, splashing little orange droplets into the air, she still could not resist the temptation of a carbonated drink.
Back in the Underworld, there had not been many things she could call hobbies. Drinking was one of them, and she often drank with Tyr when bored.
They brewed liquor from the souls of those who had died cowardly, terrified deaths, mixed with Death Spore Flowers and fermented amid countless Flaming Skulls. It tasted of rotten fishiness.
But after arriving on Earth, she had become addicted to sweeter drinks. Sugar was something that had not existed at all in the Underworld of Heim.
Yet when she reached out to take the soda, she discovered that she was clutching a piece of black hide. She froze for a moment, then immediately tossed it to Deathstroke.
"This is what I brought back from that 'Death.' Take a look, though you might not be able to tell anything from it. It came from before the seven cycles of our universe."
Having tossed away the hot potato, she picked