"This one can really take a beating. Her healing factor is way too fast."
On a dark, stormy night, the red-and-blue figure chatted loudly with his friends while beating up his target.
High in the air, he grabbed Charcoal Princess by the hair and slammed a charged punch into her face, sending her plunging like a meteor into the sea east of Gotham and throwing up a splash hundreds of meters high.
But the next second, the pitch-black figure flew out from beneath the water with a grin full of white teeth, charging at Deadpool and the others watching from the sidelines.
Then Little Superman intercepted her and blasted her away with Heat Vision again. This time, she smashed straight through a lighthouse, but when she burst from the smoke, her healing factor had left her completely unharmed. Even her white dress had been restored.
The fight became almost turn-based: she charged, he hit her, and the cycle repeated.
Could Little Superman think of a way to resolve the current situation? He felt that he definitely could if he spent more time on it, but Batwoman and Lady Deathstroke were right here. Why should he rack his brains?
The intense battle he wanted was the kind where he punched his opponent, his opponent punched him back, and the two were evenly matched—just like in the Rocky movies, complete with slow-motion shots of blood-tinged spit flying through the air beneath the lights.
Ideally, there would also be a clash of convictions between justice and evil, some sparks in their words and philosophies. That was what a Superhero story was supposed to be like.
But right now, Charcoal Princess could not hurt him at all, and she did not say anything either. It had turned into a one-sided punching-bag session. After playing