"You simply arrived here without knowing how you got here, which means you shouldn't have come here in the first place. It should have been only us who came here, right?"
While Batwoman and Deadpool were each occupied with their own business, Deathstroke was traveling alongside Wayfinder, with the upright-walking Spider-Cat following nearby. But this Tang Sanzang-like rambling was not meant for it.
The listener was naturally Wayfinder, whose pained expression suggested that he already regretted agreeing to travel with this strange knockoff Spider-Man.
They had clearly not gone very far. The narrow tomb passage still showed no end in sight, yet The Stranger had already spouted hundreds of nonsensical remarks into his ear, making Wayfinder feel as though his head was about to explode.
Did Su Ming not know that? Of course he did, but he was playing Spider-Man now, so he had to keep up the chatterbox act.
A Spider-Man who could not talk was an unqualified Spider-Man, and one unlikely to live long. Since he had become a knockoff Spider-Man to seek excitement, he might as well see it through to the end.
The Kitty walking silently beside him looked up at him, especially at the curl of Deathstroke's lips. It suddenly felt that the man beside it was incredibly sleazy. Where did he get so many sleazy things to say?
He rambled on incoherently and endlessly, enough to drive anyone mad. Were Spider-Man's enemies all this unlucky?
In any case, Dream of a Thousand Cats felt it could never learn this style of acting. Most felines were aloof by nature, and this endless stream of nonsense was far too different from its habits.
Still, that did not stop it from finding the situation entertaining. Mostly because Wayfinder's agonized expression was quite amusing.
"Uh, probably." Wayfinder rubbed