At first, Deathstroke the Mercenary had only salt on him, but during these idle years, Su Ming had naturally stocked up on more seasonings.
Although it no longer mattered whether he ate food or not, needing to eat and loving to eat were entirely different matters.
As the soul of China, and now capable of obtaining things he had never eaten before, how could he possibly miss out?
For instance, if he went to another world and hunted a Dragon or Sea Monster, he had to at least taste it, right? Wouldn't it be a shame if he happened to be missing a few key spices at a critical moment?
Su Ming did not want to find himself on the verge of death someday, still regretting that his last barbecue had lacked cumin. That would be far too tragic.
He skinned the rabbits and chopped them into pieces. Cloak took the meat to rinse it, while Strangle was in charge of skewering it.
By the time Monark came to his senses, Deathstroke, as though possessed by the Speed Force, was already ready to chop firewood.
"You! You Wilsons have no hearts!" Monark clutched his chest aggrievedly. Though he rationally knew that rabbits were merely one type of livestock, years of self-hypnosis had filled him with unbearable grief. "They're so cute. How can you eat them—"
Su Ming turned Godslayer into a golden battle axe and slung it over his shoulder as he headed toward the South Lawn. "Why does that sound like something I've heard before? 'XX is so cute, how can you eat it?' But you're the one who killed them, not me. At most, I'm just increasing the value of their corpses."
"..." Monark had no answer. He began wondering why he had chosen rabbits as the cost