"Stop! Don't come any closer!"
Because Harley was wearing high heels, her footsteps were rather conspicuous. By the time she came down the stairs, Diana and Kara had also left the butler's quarters, and they met in the hall.
Who else could the figure behind Harley be? Of course, it was Milkman Superman. However, his face was full of helplessness, and someone had even drawn a huge S over the M on his chest with lipstick.
They had probably wanted to cover the embossed letter beneath it, but they had not completely hidden it. As a result, Superman now had both an S and an M on his chest, which made him look somewhat perverse.
Yet Diana was not particularly happy to see Superman. They had fought not long ago, after all, so she immediately picked up her sword and shield and loudly ordered the Milkman to stop.
"Relax, Little Dai. It's us."
Harley, who bounced with every step, raised a hand and showed off the golden end of rope she held. The Lasso of Truth was still wrapped around Milkman Superman.
"My treatment's done. Though I don't know whether he's actually cured, hee-hee. He says he remembers now, but I wasn't familiar with Superman to begin with, so I brought him down for you to question. Take the rope, quick. Then I'm gonna find something to drink. Fuck, I talked so much my throat's dry as hell."
Psychotherapy, also known as talk therapy, was not without its costs. Mainly, it cost saliva.
Harley was still smiling, but she felt as if smoke were about to pour from her throat. Nobody knew how complicated Milkman Superman's treatment had been: awakening a personality from the subconscious that believed itself dead, then sealing the external serial-killer personality into the deepest recesses of