"Heh heh, looks like you ran into a brand fan too?"
Hela stood off to the side with her arms folded, watching the show. All she had done was use black smoke to hold Oil Prince's soul in place so Hell would not drag it away again anytime soon.
"Yeah, Prince has excellent taste. He only uses Wilson Enterprises' finest products." Su Ming draped an arm around the skeleton's shoulders and casually patted his upper arm bone. Smiling, he said, "You really should have seen the yacht he bought last time. Tsk, imperial-class luxury. Even Odin's Golden Palace would pale in comparison."
At the mention of the yacht, the skeleton began to tremble. He lowered his head and covered his face, seemingly crying, perhaps regretting that he had not gotten to enjoy his new ship for long before dying.
"Don't cry. The killer will laugh. Don't lower your head, or your crown will fall."
Dependable Deathstroke hooked a finger under his chin and helped him raise his head again. Looking into the green flames in his eye sockets, he said solemnly:
"Don't worry. I'll arrange for someone to forge your will and witnesses, then donate that yacht to Black Widow, the Superhero you liked most according to the investigation records. I definitely won't let it fall into the hands of those bastard brothers of yours."
Hearing Deathstroke's words, the skeleton nodded gratefully. That seemed to be exactly the answer he wanted.
Royal family relationships were always this tense. Luckily, he had died in space. If he had died on Earth, it probably would have been difficult to figure out which of his four hundred-odd brothers had killed him.
"Ahem, are you about done chatting? I may be good at spirit communication, but my Mental Power isn't limitless." Hela rolled her