Damian was not very tall, nor was he particularly broad. It was not only because of his age, but also because of the grueling training he kept up every day. He exercised more than many adult assassins, so there was no way for him to put on weight.
He stood before Deathstroke, looking up at the man's face, while the other man gazed back at him quite kindly.
Without warning, Su Ming pulled Damian into an embrace, pressed his head against his stomach, and gently stroked the back of Damian's head.
Damian instantly became alert and tried to struggle, but Su Ming had already let him go.
"???"
What was that about? Why had he done that?
He looked uncertainly at the Otherworld Deathstroke before him, but the man's helmet had already lowered again, concealing every expression. His voice returned to its demonic murmur.
"Come on. I'll teach you how to solve a case." With that, Su Ming turned and walked away.
Damian touched the back of his head, making sure no bomb had been planted there. But what was Deathstroke's purpose? Something was strange.
Though he kept thinking about it, he still emphasized, "Batwoman taught me."
Deathstroke looked back at him, his red single eye especially striking in the darkness. "She is she, and I am me. Our methods of deduction are different."
"Is that so?" Damian replied absently. He was still thinking about Deathstroke's strange behavior. That warm feeling seemed to linger atop his head.
"I don't know whether Batwoman ever taught you this systematically, but how many types of deduction are there?" Su Ming beckoned Damian's companions closer. The clues were right in front of them.
Damian rubbed his nose, feeling deeply uncomfortable. "Batwoman usually doesn't need much deduction, because everything here is under surveillance."
"Unfortunately, after