Mincing the meat did not take long, but Kitty and The First Dream talked for quite a while.
After all, they had dragged one of God's weapons into this dream without discussing it with its owner beforehand. The First Dream was naturally unhappy about it.
But as fellow Dreams, Dream of a Thousand Cats put in a few good words for them. In the end, it agreed to lift the restrictions and let the man and cat leave, though it also made clear that if they wanted to come play again, they could not show up uninvited like this.
That was no problem, of course. Given the choice, Su Ming never wanted to come to this place again. Did they really think the dreams of the Old Ones were pleasant places? They probably had never been watched by the Old Ones before, had they?
"Hehehe, you really came. I want to play a game with you, Deathstroke."
A Black man with a cheerful smile and a face remarkably like a certain President of the United States appeared. He materialized out of thin air before Deathstroke, rubbing his hands together expectantly.
"Nyarlathotep, do you normally have this much free time? I don't have time today." Su Ming hoisted the plastic bag filled with the enemy's flesh over his shoulder, then nudged the cleaned bones on the ground toward the Black man with his foot. "We'll play next time. I need to leave now. Keep these bones and eat them—take them home and make some soup or something."
Without waiting for any reaction from Nyarlathotep, Deathstroke quickly signaled to Kitty. They needed to get out of here.
If Nyarlathotep latched onto them, this would never end. That guy's games were no fun at all, and they often ended with human investigators dead.