"Sure. Come on, sign a contract first."
Deathstroke expertly pulled out paper and a pen from his belt pouch. Though contracts did not mean much these days, life still needed a sense of ceremony.
That was right. For the moment, he had no idea what this delivered intelligence was about, whether it was reliable, or whether it was a trap.
But there was no harm in hearing it out. As for whether it was real or fake, he had a brain and could judge for himself.
Even if God had sent him a sugar-coated shell, he was confident he could eat the sugar and fire the shell back. Besides, the fat man's request was no great matter—he merely wanted a ride.
The Source Wall was gone, but Multiverse 1 was still wrapped in the Bleed Layer and remained relatively isolated. It was like a person losing their skin while their internal organs were still separated beneath the thoracic and abdominal membranes.
Though the Bleed Layer was far weaker than the Source Wall and possessed virtually no defensive capability, it digested creatures entering it like digestive fluid, leaving many unable to freely enter and leave Multiverse 1.
But this was no issue at all for Su Ming. Even when the Source Wall had still existed, he had been able to come and go freely. Now that he also commanded Quantum Concepts, he could even alter the properties of the Bleed Layer if he wished.
Drafting the contract took a little time, though only a little. A professional Mercenary was quite fast at writing contracts, and soon, three copies floated before the wizard.
"I sign here, right?"
The fat man did not hesitate in the slightest. Without even carefully reading the contract, he signed his name repeatedly. It was exactly the sort