Before entering the house, the Spider-Girls had been marveling at how low-key Deathstroke was. With his status and wealth, they had expected him to live in a castle or the White House, yet he lived in an utterly ordinary mountain cabin.
The cabin looked about the size of an ordinary middle-class family home. It had two floors and probably a dozen or so rooms inside, but even counting the front and back yards, its footprint could not have exceeded five hundred square meters.
But when they reached the dining room window, before they even had time to knock, the sight of the people eating inside left them stunned. They had no idea who these heroes were, but the giant roast pig on the table, which weighed nearly a ton, rendered them speechless.
Eating this lavishly for a single meal—how was that low-key?
More importantly, Deathstroke himself was not even there, and this was not some formal banquet.
However, the girls peering through the window at the roast pig were quickly noticed. The people dining inside remained calm. Once they realized the visitors were merely a group of underage children, they lowered their guard and invited them in on their host's behalf.
In any case, there was no way they could finish that pig. Besides, anyone who could find this remote villa was probably Deathstroke's friend, so they might as well share the burden.
Faced with several unfamiliar men, the girls were a little reserved. Shuri was still the best at diplomacy. She gracefully lifted the hem of her skirt in greeting before entering through the garden's back door as well.
"I am Shuri of Wakanda. Hello, gentlemen."
"Uh, hello, children." John Stewart smiled awkwardly as he watched the girls file into the dining room and take seats beside the table,