Under the bartender's threats, Dick was forced to leave.
The mustached man clapped his hands in satisfaction and looked up, watching the shadows surrounding the bar depart through the downpour. In that moment, he felt as though he had done something great enough to save the organization.
In fact, that was exactly what he believed.
Even a mighty outsider had to bow to the local powers. In Gotham, whoever you crossed, you must never cross the Court, not even if you were as powerful as HIVE.
Especially a Court that had launched Owl Night.
He turned back toward the bar, but the moment he pushed open the swinging doors, he saw Deathstroke standing before him, radiating murderous intent.
The tall figure standing against the light made the man swallow instinctively.
"Things felt pretty nasty outside just now. Did trouble come knocking?"
"The Court-the Court of Owls' assassins." While telling Deathstroke the truth, the man deftly avoided mentioning Dick.
"Hmph. So the cockroaches in the shadows finally couldn't restrain themselves?"
A low chuckle came from behind the mask, like a butcher scraping a file across his prey's skull.
Ever since the battle at the abandoned warehouse, Deathstroke had been secretly monitoring Qin Wei. Though Tim and Barbara had been cleaning up after his target, the mercenary had still pieced together his target's true intentions from scattered clues.
Qin Wei intended to wage war against the Court.
Having reached this conclusion, Deathstroke felt fortunate-fortunate that he had restrained his killing intent at the critical moment and hadn't cut off that kid's head.
As a third party in this war, all he wanted was to see the magnificent spectacle of blood flowing in rivers.
And reality had unfolded just as he imagined. No, it was even more extreme.
Qin Wei's method of dealing