"I have an idea, my dark friend. I'm not sure whether I should say it."
Taking the pipe from his mouth and knocking it twice against his knee, Bobo used his blackened claws to pack in more tobacco. In that brief pause, the pungent stench of blood rushed into his nostrils, making it feel as though they had arrived at a scrap-metal processing plant.
They were only four hundred meters from Mindy's Sewer Safehouse, yet their advance had grown slower and slower, as if all the scoundrels in the city were rushing here and lining up to die.
There were not quite bodies strewn everywhere, but dark-red trickles had already appeared along the roadside, blood flowing toward the drains.
Perhaps it was the combined effect of the air and his imagination, but Bobo always felt that the street drains looked like the mouths of something. As they drank blood, they even made soft gulping sounds.
"Don't say it. We're very likely being watched by a High-Dimensional Being right now, so secrecy is necessary. I probably know what you want to say, but now isn't the time. We only need to wait."
Su Ming, dressed as a certain animal, answered like this. To fit the role, he remained expressionless, but the ape could see something else in his eyes. It seemed to be amusement.
That was right. The greatest difference between the Batwoman played by Deathstroke and the genuine article was this: there was not so much misery and resentment in his eyes, not even anger.
The reason was simple. He killed people. If he had a grudge, he usually settled it on the spot, so what was there to be angry about?
"All right. I hope we still have time." The ape relit his pipe and took a deep drag.