"Did Batwoman cut off your transmission?" The gorilla blinked, and the pipe in his mouth nearly fell out. "The Bleed Layer's reflection formed an energy projection across time. How did he sever it unilaterally?"
The room on the third floor of the inn was fairly spacious. The wooden cabinets and coat racks were as shabby as if they had been picked up from a Civil War battlefield. Everything faithfully recreated the United States at the start of the twentieth century.
"All right, Bobo, no need to act so surprised just to give me an opening for a joke. There's no one else here, so we don't need jokes to lighten the team's mood."
Su Ming appreciated the gorilla's good intentions, but there was no need for that.
"Phew, all right." The gorilla lowered his head, took the pipe from his mouth, and wiped it on his pant leg. "But are you sure Batwoman can handle it? No matter what plan he intends to carry out, he'll probably face tremendous danger."
"If they can't win, they run. Just have Deadpool cover the rear." Su Ming sat on the windowsill and watched the lively street below. A wagon carrying sacks of money from the bank was leaving, its wheels carving deep ruts into the dirt road. "Mercenaries have always taken the most dangerous jobs. We have plenty of experience."
The scents of dust, cattle and horses, and alcohol—all of them were perfectly clear to Strangle. This seemed to be the smell of the human world.
"Heh, you know that's not what I mean. You don't think a team with Diana in it would retreat so easily, do you?" The gorilla scrunched up his features and wiped his mouth. "Besides, apemen may not count as humans, and Batwoman might use deathblow methods, but