The House of Mystery was truly mysterious. Every time you looked away and then looked back, you would find that something in a corner had changed along with the world without your knowledge.
You might want to study it, but at the same time, something in another corner would change the moment your gaze shifted away.
Deathstroke lounged against the sofa in a Ge You Slouch, wondering whether Constantine drank while playing this whack-a-mole game every time. Everyone knew Zha Kang never ate snacks with his drinks; he drank as casually as ordinary people drank water.
But interestingly, although Su Ming had only one eye, he could have countless eyes. So when he transformed into a pitch-black silhouette and dense crimson eyeballs grew all over his body, staring into every corner of the living room, the House of Mystery seemed not to know how to respond.
Times like this always amused Su Ming, because many lifeless things, such as Cloak or houses, often seemed more simple and endearing.
Hermione and the others had gone upstairs with Bobo, their Magic World guide, to continue their tour. After all, this was a mobile Magic Fortress, currently speeding through the void more like a ship.
As long as it was not called the Titanic, there was not much else to do.
The living room smelled a little foul, though it was far better than Deadpool's home. The dominant odor here was the sour stench of stale alcohol, while the more complicated smells were masked by the tarry scent of burnt cigarettes.
In the middle of the brown sofa was a greasy stain where Constantine usually sat. When he was alone, he liked to strip naked and wander around the house, so it was a patch of human grease. Maybe it could be used