Su Ming grabbed the little girl’s ptop, quickly typing in her name. No results. He tried the console next, switching to facial recognition. Still nothing.

  As expected, the Bat’s surveilnce had excluded him. Su Ming had anticipated this.

  He ran a search for Batgirl’s true identity using her system, but it was just a shot in the dark. It didn’t hurt to try. Now, he’d ruled out one possibility.

  He sat back and waved for Barbara to return to the table and wait for dinner. Then he pulled out his cigar.

  Barbara watched his expression as she leisurely made her way back to the table. She didn’t ask about the results of his search, nor did she say anything—almost as if the previous conversation had never happened.

  She changed the subject. "You said that pce, Indian Hill, is really that terrifying?"

  "If my memory serves me right, yeah. The moment you open the door to that underground b, it's nothing but deformed monsters," Su Ming replied, recounting a scene he’d seen in the Gotham TV show. "But I should correct one thing—Deathstroke never gets scared. He never abandons his mission."

  "So what’s your mission, then? I don’t think anyone’s paying you to rescue me and my dad. My family’s not rich," Barbara asked again.

  She was fully aware of her family’s financial situation. Before her paralysis, she’d been the one in charge—every month, she kept track of how much they earned, how much they spent on food and daily necessities. Every penny was carefully written down in her little notebook.

  Before, Deathstroke had revealed on TV that his basic fee for killing someone was 2 million. Rescuing someone was way more complicated than killing, and that kind of money? She could never come up with it.

  Su Ming gnced at her. The speed of her adaptation was almost visible to the naked eye. Just a moment ago, she had been like a small-town girl, but now she was calmly facing mercenaries. People really did have different levels of resilience, didn’t they?

  "We can’t tell you the details of our mission. Once it’s all over, ask your dad," Su Ming said, tapping the ash from his cigar. The Batgirl’s sleek metallic table surface was now slightly tarnished, a yellowish stain gleaming on the shining panel.

  Though, if anyone would be unhappy about this, it would be Alfred. Su Ming still had some respect for the old butler, so he decided not to flick the ash on the table anymore—he flicked it onto the floor instead.

  He gave Barbara a vague answer, not because he wanted to, but because there were things she wasn’t ready to hear. If it were the main world’s Oracle, he might have said more, let her strategize with him. But for now, he’d have to find Commissioner Gordon and see what he knew.

  Barbara lowered her head, as if she understood something. She liked to rub the sleeves of her sweater when she was deep in thought, and now the fabric had started to pill from the constant friction.

  Meanwhile, Vicky had finished her work. Breathing heavily, she and Peter stumbled to the table. She colpsed onto the surface, feeling the coolness of the metal.

  Su Ming slid the remaining half-bottle of liquor towards her, and without hesitation, she grabbed it and took a swig.

  "I need to tell you something. We’ve found the enemy’s ir. Our next step is to rescue Commissioner Gordon."

  "Huh? Isn’t that a good thing?" Vicky pulled the bottle away from her lips with a ‘pop,’ confusion written all over her pretty face. "Why does this sound so serious? Are you pnning to back out? Not letting us take pictures for the news anymore?"

  "Well, the enemy’s ir is more dangerous than expected. It’s a trap, 100%. If you follow us, there’s a very real risk to your lives," Su Ming said, keeping a close eye on Peter’s gradually paling face. The guy seemed on the verge of a breakdown.

  Vicky’s eyes darted around, her mind working. This woman had no intention of backing down. She pointed to Barbara, "So, is the little girl coming with you?"

  "If it weren’t for her, Gordon wouldn’t trust us. So Barbara has to come along, and we’ll protect her. But it’s different for you. Cindy and I are only two people. We can’t divide ourselves to protect you too," Su Ming said, nodding and openly admitting it.

  Vicky didn’t hesitate for a second. Her red-gold hair bobbed as she nodded enthusiastically. She didn’t care about danger—what she wanted was the story.

  "We’ll follow you. After all, how could such strong warriors not have a journalist documenting their feats?" She turned to Su Ming, "By the way, Mr. Deathstroke, as a male mercenary, what’s your opinion on the recent men’s rights movement?"

  If it weren’t for the fact that his right eye socket was empty, without a fake eye, Su Ming would have reached up and smashed it into her face. This woman was out of her mind. What did the men’s rights movement have to do with him?

  "You’d better ask your partner. He looks like he’s about to wet himself. By the time that happens, the answer will be on your shoes," Su Ming said, nodding toward Peter, who was now crumpled in a corner like a rag doll. "If you’re coming, I should warn you—it’s a biohazard situation. You’ll need protective suits and gas masks."

  "Cool!" Vicky shot up, kicking Peter to get him moving. "I’ve been waiting for a biohazard crisis for ages! Praise Hera!"

  "Fine, if you find any, get one for Barbara too. Vicky, you help her put it on," Su Ming said, already too tired to deal with her. She wouldn’t die, no matter what reckless things she did—let her go.

  "Don’t you need one?" Vicky immediately asked, her enthusiasm unabated. "What about you and Cindy?"

  "No need. Our helmets have chemical protection built in, and our physical abilities far exceed normal humans. If things go wrong, we can pull out in time," Su Ming answered casually.

  Hearing this, Vicky immediately pulled out a small notebook and jotted it down. Deathstroke possibly a cyborg… Then she gave an ‘OK’ sign and dashed off.

  "You like red-haired women?" Barbara suddenly asked, catching Su Ming off guard.

  "No, why do you ask?"

  "Because it seems like you’re... pretty id-back with Miss Vicky," Barbara said, her gaze lingering on him, a subtle meaning behind her words.

  "I’m id-back with you too, even though you’re a redhead, but that doesn’t mean anything," Su Ming said, patting her head to stop her from overthinking. Might as well charge the ptop now.

  "If I didn’t bring you along to gain your dad’s trust, I could have left you here and had you just provide intel support."

  "But didn’t you just say you brought me to gain my dad’s trust?" Barbara frowned. She had thought she was valuable. In her shallow understanding, people in the shadows always measured others by their worth.

  "That was a lie to Vicky. Even without you, do you think I wouldn’t have been able to get Gordon to trust us, with me and Cindy holding knives to his throat? Anyway, he’ll thank us after," Su Ming said, puffing out a cloud of smoke. It swirled in the cave before drifting away, changing shape from a skull to a bat.

  In reality, that was a lie. In the TV show, the underground b had countless electronic devices and security gates. Without Barbara—without Oracle—he and Cindy would have been in big trouble.

  Barbara’s face turned red. She’d misunderstood Su Ming’s meaning. Her imagination ran wild, and she started thinking about something else.

  Does he... like girls like me? But I’m the daughter of a cop... What do I do? But he’s actually pretty reliable... but my legs...

  At her age, it was easy to jump to conclusions, especially with the forbidden nature of their retionship. It made her heart race.

  Right now, he had appeared just when Barbara felt the most helpless. At first, he had only brought fear, but gradually, that fear had morphed into something else. Her heart beat with an irregur rhythm she couldn’t quite expin.

  This was what psychologists called the "suspension bridge effect"—when people are in dangerous situations, they instinctively feel attraction to the opposite sex they’re with.

  It’s a primal instinct, passed down through human DNA to ensure survival and the continuation of the species. Humans in peril tend to bond with those they depend on, even if it’s a subconscious, evolutionary need.

  But Su Ming wasn’t thinking any of that. Right now, all he could think about was staying alive.

  Just as Barbara was lost in her thoughts, Su Ming puffed his cigar, formuting a pn. Cindy returned, walking down the spiral staircase, carrying a huge roasted turkey in one hand and a pot in the other.

  "I found this upstairs. Not sure why we’re eating turkey, though. Isn’t it out of season? Whatever, I threw in some potatoes and onions and boiled them up. We’ll make do."

  The three gathered around the metal table, starting an unusual dinner. Cindy couldn’t help but wonder what Vicky and Peter were doing nearby, but she didn’t care. After all, Su Ming was handling it. This mission was way easier than most of their past ones.

  Now, her mind was already spinning on how to team up with Su Ming after