It seemed that people in different worlds always had different names for strangers.
In some places, they were called adventurers; in others, people addressed them by their profession. In Azeroth, they seemed to prefer calling people champions. Thinking back on it, Su Ming felt that he had been away from the world where people used to call him "Handsome Guy" for far too long.
Although he had returned to his rented apartment before, everything outside that room had been fake. Would he ever have a chance to go back and see his real hometown?
But on second thought, his old life had been simple. Apart from that rented apartment, there had only been the factory warehouse and the security office. His relationships with his coworkers had been nothing more than ordinary acquaintanceships, not particularly close. Perhaps the only place he still missed was the orphanage that had sheltered him as a child.
There were memories, and other emotions too, but not enough for him to insist on doing something for it. At most, if he ever found that world someday, he could secretly donate more money to it.
The Gnoll diviner had no idea that a single sentence from him had made the Sorcerer Supreme think so much, because Deathstroke's thought process did not show in the passage of external time.
"Let's put the matter of helping aside for now. I'll need to consider your request. Right now, I have something else to ask you." Ignoring Seg's pitiful puppy-dog eyes, Su Ming searched the little tent but simply could not find a second chair. He could only have Cloak turn into a chair and sit down. "When did the people from the Darkmoon Faire disappear, and how? Tell me. Don't hide any details."
Then, seeing that Seg still looked shaken,