The alley was spotless now. Not to mention bodies, not even a trace of bloodstink remained. Instead, the smell of the street sewers drifted over on the evening breeze, adding a touch of everyday life.
"This isn't the Deathstroke you know, meow. It's a long story, but we're in a hurry." The cat swished her tail as she lay on Deathstroke's shoulder with her paws tucked in, urging the bespectacled boy, "Where's your book? Hurry up and let us use it to open a door to the Recording Deity's domain, meow."
There was no need to specify which book. If Dream had mentioned a book, the big boy knew there could only be one.
As one of Dream's old acquaintances, Hunter did not even need to ask why. He adjusted his round-framed glasses.
"It's under my bed in my bedroom. Come with me. It's not far."
With that, he led the way toward the main street. There were not even any proper streetlamps outside. In the dimness, their footsteps echoed continuously, sending chills down their backs.
As they walked, Warlock's eyes did not stay idle. He carefully examined Deathstroke, who was serving as a cat tree, and did indeed notice something extraordinary.
For instance, Death had been holding his arm the whole time as though they were incredibly close. That was simply terrifying.
If Death touched an ordinary person, they would drop dead on the spot. Yet now, it looked as though Death was the one relying on this man.
This was far too strange. He had only been retired for half a year. What exactly had happened in the Magic World during those six months? It was too fantastical.
"You seem a little interested in me?" Su Ming smiled and handed the boy a cigarette, letting him take a