The deathly silence in the ruins had just been forcibly torn open by Wally when it was shattered by an extremely harsh remark.
"Back to the Watchtower."
Bruce completely ignored the Flash's banter.
The black cloak suddenly turned around, bringing with it a gust of wind filled with the smell of gunpowder.
His gaze swept quickly across the mess on the ground, and the tactical sandbox in his mind was frantically rebuilding.
Faced with a cosmic deity who claims to be from the Marvel Universe and can wipe out world-ending crises at will, all existing contingency plans become worthless.
The microcomputer in the tactical belt had just tried to collect Thor's energy Spectrum, but only got a string of gibberish.
This complete unknown instilled in Gotham's Dark Knight an unprecedented sense of crisis.
If the opponent attacks, Superman won't last three seconds. Diana's magic resistance is useless, and J'onn's Telepathy can't even penetrate the opponent's surface consciousness.
He had to return to the Watchtower immediately, retrieve the data from the orbiting satellites, and rebuild the threat assessment model.
Bruce's gaze finally settled on Shayera behind him.
" Shayera." Bruce paused for half a second, emphasizing each word with an absolute command, "Your current task is to keep an eye on him."
The air froze once again.
Shayera abruptly raised her head, her wings instinctively spreading halfway open, kicking up a cloud of dust.
She pointed her index finger at the tip of her nose and froze on the spot.
" Bruce, are you serious?" Shayera's voice rose an octave, laced with undisguised absurdity. "You want me to keep an eye on him?!"
Her mind raced, analyzing the feasibility of the order.
The blond, muscular man in front of me, who calls himself Thor, just raised his hand and wiped out a crisis that could have destroyed half the Earth.
That level of energy fluctuation far exceeded the measurement limits of the most advanced energy detectors on Planet Thanagar.
Are you really going to send a convicted criminal whose official status in the League is hanging by a thread to guard against a monster of Multiverse Level?
What is this? Wasting waste? Or is she being used as a human alarm?
If she dies, it would signify hostility from the other side, thus buying the League a few seconds to react?
Bruce didn't offer a single further explanation.
"He's the one you brought."
Leaving behind this cold, lifeless statement, Bruce raised his wrist and pressed a few buttons on the communicator on his multi-functional tactical belt.
This was the optimal solution he had calculated. Shayera was currently outside the core of the League, and having her act as a buffer would minimize potential losses.
Moreover, the military discipline of the Thanagar people was enough for her to transmit crucial combat data before being instantly killed.
Six dazzling blue teleportation beams descended from the sky, precisely enveloping the six core members of the Justice League.
In the instant the light flashed, Clark cast a worried glance at Shayera, for this god among mortals was never willing to abandon any of her companions.
Diana gripped the hilt of her sword, watching Thor warily.
John, the Green Lantern who once had a deep and unforgettable relationship with Shayera, simply turned his head away, completely ignoring her.
The light from the Green Lantern Ring made his profile appear extremely cold and hard.
Shayera's heart clenched, and that suffocating feeling of being utterly abandoned surged up again.
Buzz--
The beam of light dissipated.
All that remained in the ruins were rubble, a few Mars steel bars, Shayera, and Thor.
Thor watched the six people disappear, his gaze piercing through layers of space, and arrived at the Watchtower.
He captured the spatial coordinates and energy frequency of the six teleportation beams he had just seen.
If he wanted, he could easily use this internet connection to infiltrate the space station called Watchtower and drag out the control freak in the bat-like bodysuit.
But he's not interested right now, or rather, he's too lazy to deal with that psychologically twisted Batman. Maybe Tony Stark could get along with him, since they both like to devise various countermeasures.
Thor strode over to Shayera, raised his large hand, and patted her shoulder heavily.
"Let's go, my poor guide." Thor rubbed his stomach.
"I've been watching you guys fight for ages, and I'm actually a bit hungry. Any recommendations for good food around here? Preferably meat, and big portions."
He strode forward a few steps, kicked aside a piece of concrete blocking his way, and after walking about ten meters, he stopped and turned around.
Shayera remained standing there, motionless, her wings drooping behind her, exuding an indescribable sense of unease.
"What?" Thor raised an eyebrow. "Don't the Thanagar people eat?"
Shayera bit her lower lip, her fingers rubbing together unnaturally at her sides, the scratches on the edges of her nails particularly glaring.
"Um..." She avoided Thor's gaze, staring at the rubble on the ground, "I have no money."
Thor paused for a moment.
"I spent all my last bit of money on alcohol." Shayera's voice trailed off, tinged with a sense of resignation. "To buy those bottles of alcohol, I even pawned my spare communicator. Then, after drinking too much, I inexplicably ended up in your universe."
A gust of wind blew through the ruins, carrying a tattered newspaper that drifted between the two men.
Thor looked the once-powerful alien female warrior up and down.
He was disheveled and couldn't even afford a meal, so he resorted to numbing his senses with alcohol.
"Tsk tsk tsk." Thor shook his head repeatedly, making exaggerated clicking sounds. "Sure enough, superheroes are all broke."
"You guys should really be grateful you have a super sucker named Bruce Wayne. Otherwise, the half-block you destroyed in your fight would cost you hundreds of years' worth of wages to pay for it."
Thor pointed to a half-collapsed office building in the distance, "That farm kid in the red shorts, with his meager salary from the newspaper, probably can't even afford a pair of Krypton underwear."
"And that blond guy who runs pretty fast, he probably can't even afford to pay for the wear and tear on his shoes. If Batman hadn't been showering you with money to bail you out, you'd all be in jail right now, working on sewing machines to pay off your debts. Maybe you'd even have to take out loans hundreds of years in the future."
Shayera was speechless for a long time after hearing these words. Although the words were rough, they were impossible to refute. The military allowance on Planet Thanagar was a complete waste of money here.
Oh, she almost forgot, she's no longer considered Thanagar people.
She's now just a penniless wretch who can't even afford a meal.
Just then, a cacophony of footsteps and engine roars came from the perimeter of the ruins.
The cordon was forcibly broken through by a group of reporters carrying long guns and microphones, who swarmed over like a flock of Vulture that had smelled blood.
They had been hiding on the outskirts of the safe zone, watching the Justice League resolve the crisis and seeing the six teleportation beams leave. They immediately realized the danger was over and rushed into the scene to grab the headlines.
" Shayera Hall!"
A sharp female voice pierced the air, and a female reporter in a business suit rushed to the front, her microphone almost touching Shayera's nose.
"Is your appearance on Earth another part of Planet Thanagar invasion plot?"
This question ignited a frenzy among all the reporters, who immediately surrounded Shayera and Thor with their cameras and microphones.
"You betrayed the Earth once, causing tens of thousands of casualties. What is your status standing here now?"
Why didn't the Justice League arrest you? Did you make some kind of dirty political deal?
"Where did you hide the Thanagar weapons? What would you like to say to the families of those who lost loved ones in the invasion?"
Vicious speculations and sharp questions, accompanied by blinding flashes of light, rained down on Shayera.
Shayera's breathing became rapid; those words had pierced the deepest wounds in her heart.
She once betrayed her home planet to protect Earth, but was scorned by Earthlings for concealing her identity.
She opened her mouth, wanting to explain, wanting to refute, but her throat was filled with a waterlogged sponge, and she couldn't make a sound.
Her body trembled slightly, and she even began to shrink back.
The once fearless warrior on the battlefield now appears incredibly vulnerable in front of these ordinary people without superpowers, the shackles of moral coercion tightly gripping her throat.
When Shayera remained silent, a male reporter with a beer belly immediately shifted his focus.
He noticed the blond man next to her.
These reporters spend years on the front lines of superhero battles.
They've come up with a perfect survival rule: as long as you're an ordinary person and you have a microphone, you're invincible.
Superman would withstand the missiles to avoid harming them, and the Flash would take them to a safe zone.
They are confident in this, which is why they dare to use microphones as weapons with impunity, wantonly trampling on the dignity of others in exchange for traffic.
Taking advantage of his size, the male reporter pushed past his colleagues and shoved the recording pen right under Thor's chin, even spraying saliva onto his clothes.
"This new face!" the male reporter pressed, his tone clearly leading.
"You're associating with this traitor, doesn't that mean you're also a spy sent from outer space? Were you covering up some shady secret by causing this explosion here? You must immediately reveal your identity to the public!"
Thor stopped in his tracks.
He turned his head slightly, looking at the fat man who was about to shove the recording pen into his mouth.
In this universe, superheroes have an unwritten rule: never harm civilians.
No matter how foolish or wicked the common people may be, the heroes must remain restrained.
But Thor is not a superhero in this universe.
He was never a hero; he was just an ordinary god, nothing more.
Thor's Law of Emotion stirred slightly, and he clearly sensed the greed, malice, and bloodlust emanating from the group of reporters.
There is no sense of justice or pursuit of truth; it's all just a frenzy to grab attention.
"Spy?" Thor repeated the word.
The overweight reporter, thinking the other party was about to explain, excitedly pushed the recording pen forward. "If you're not, please explain why you would be with a war criminal..."
Snap!
A crisp, loud, and even sonic boom-like sound exploded above the ruins.
Before the overweight reporter could finish speaking, he was struck head-on by a speeding dump truck.
The body, weighing over 200 pounds, spun three times in the air, with several blood-stained molars flying out, before crashing heavily onto a pile of scrap metal five meters away.
The scene fell into a deathly silence.
All the flashes stopped simultaneously, and all the reporters' mouths were agape in disbelief.
Their brains completely shut down.
What happened? That superhero hit someone?! He actually dared to hit a reporter?! This completely shattered their understanding of superheroes!
Their supposed immunity from death was utterly worthless in front of this blond man.
That fat reporter was a senior columnist, and even the mayor usually gave him some face. Now he was lying in a pile of scrap metal like a dead dog, vomiting blood.
Thor flicked his wrist. He had just suppressed his power to eight decimal places and simultaneously applied Law of Space to ensure that the fat man's trajectory would perfectly avoid the deadly steel bars, resulting in only a few broken ribs and lost teeth.
He didn't want to be branded with the trivial crime of killing mortals on the very first day of this universe, but it was necessary to teach these gossipy women a lesson.
"Noisy."
Thor uttered two words, glancing at the reporters who had been shouting the loudest earlier.
The group finally realized what was happening, screaming and trying to back away, wanting to shout that the superhero had killed someone.
But Thor was much faster than them.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
Three resounding slaps in quick succession, precise, elegant, and powerful.
Three reporters flew out in a row, landing neatly next to the fat reporter, and all passed out instantly, their cheeks swelling up like over-fermented buns.
The remaining reporters froze on the spot, their breaths catching in their throats.
The camera and microphone in my hands felt like burning hot irons; I couldn't hold them, and I couldn't throw them away.
Fear poured over them like ice water, and their once-proud right to speak seemed utterly ridiculous in the face of absolute physical assault.
Shayera was also stunned. She stared blankly at Thor, her mind reeling from the tactical doctrines.
The shock of jumping directly from the Lawful Good alignment to the Chaotic Neutral alignment left her stunned for a long time.
Thor completely ignored the group of terrified mortals. He turned to look at Shayera and lightly traced a line in the air with his fingertip.
The Law of Space are activated.
A ripple of water spread through the air around them. Thor grabbed Shayera's arm and stepped into the ripples.
The two figures vanished from their spot in an instant.
A gentle breeze swept across the ruins, stirring up wisps of dust.
Dozens of reporters stood frozen in place, looking at the empty space and then at the four colleagues lying unconscious in the pile of scrap metal.
The blood-stained voice recorder lay on the ground, crackling with electrical current.