"That woman was several times bigger than Christopher, meow. It was hard on him to catch prey that large, meow."
As Batwoman rummaged through the woman's bag, Kitty started chatting with Deathstroke again. It glanced at the woman's corpse and licked its lips.
For felines, fatter prey was naturally better. Animals needed to store fat for winter, after all. But the species with the highest average body-fat percentage on Earth was probably humanity, wasn't it?
"Fat women like this often have certain clients with particularly heavy tastes. Prostitutes are a vulnerable group and very easy to harm." Su Ming was not used to the American aesthetic that favored enormous asses. He did not even want to look at the corpse. "But the case is solved now. This woman set the fire. We can wrap it up."
That was probably what had happened. Although they were looking at a corpse now, that was merely because Christopher subconsciously believed she was dead.
In reality, there was a high chance the woman had not died at all, merely gone into temporary hemorrhagic shock.
Her thick fat and the breast implants in her chest had minimized the damage a murder weapon like a screwdriver could inflict.
Though he had only taken a cursory glance, Su Ming was certain she had no fatal wounds at all. The bleeding merely looked substantial, and the wound on her neck was nowhere near an artery.
The truth could more or less be pieced together.
The night before, Christopher had gone hunting and brought this woman back. After playing with and "killing" her, it had probably gotten too late, and since he still had to buy a cake the next day, he temporarily left her in the garage.
But hemorrhagic shock did not mean her condition would keep worsening.