"Pew pew! Pew pew!"
No matter how the Lantern Corps and The Spectre fought, Deathstroke was already in position. He even fired his little green pistol at The Spectre's back a few times. This was actually "desensitization."
The principle was much like the boy who cried wolf. People were usually extremely wary of enemies behind them, so Su Ming followed that line of thought and let The Spectre get used to it first.
Look, it was just a little pistol. Its shots vanished like mud sinking into the sea, unable to raise even a ripple. Even if I was behind you, I posed no threat at all.
Things unfolded just as expected. The Spectre, his face livid, initially turned around and blocked a few shots with his hand. Once he realized they truly neither hurt nor itched, he stopped blocking them altogether, relying entirely on the green cloak on his back to defend itself.
Now, he was fully focused on competing with Hal in front of him. He did not even spare a glance for the weak Lantern behind him.
One had to admit, not having eyes in the back of one's head was a weakness.
Just as the green-hatted idiot raised his hand again and fired a green energy cannon to clash with Hal's beam, Su Ming, seeing that the time was ripe, launched his surprise attack.
A pitiful, weak Lantern with an octagonal head and four arms instantly transformed into a streak of black light, mixed with a golden line—the afterimage left by the Lightsaber as it sliced across everyone's retinas.
It happened in an instant. By the time the Lanterns reacted, they saw a giant gripping a golden greatsword that had pierced through The Spectre's muscular body from behind.
"Y-you, Death..." The Spectre struggled to turn around.