Multiverse: Deathstroke

Chapter 404: Ch.403 Search

"You can try to escape, give me a bit of fun, and I'll give you a minute's head start."

Su Ming raised his weapon. The enormous rifle was a bit cumbersome to carry. Next time, he should either look for Atom or head to Marvel's side and find Pym to see if he could get these weapons miniaturized—then enlarged—so that he could carry more gear.

The white dwarf star device was similar in effect to Pym Particles, with similar side effects. Besides, with the two swords and one rifle he was carrying right now, he could still move freely, so this wasn't a top priority.

But as time went on, he'd only accumulate more things. He couldn't very well drag a cart to the battlefield, could he?

He aimed the gun at the angels flying around. If he could avoid it, he didn't really want to kill too many of these birdmen.

After all, just by looking at them, he knew there was nothing of value—they only had a burning sword and a white sheet. He didn't want any of that.

Plus, killing too many angels might make the City of Silver resent him afterward.

The angels surged toward him, replacing words with actions.

One look at their glowing red eyes was enough to know that they weren't going to back down.

He opened fire immediately. The bullets, accelerated by Vulcan's divine power and advanced technology, hit their targets with pinpoint accuracy.

The angel at the forefront, holding a sword, had his eye socket blown apart by a bullet, leaving a gaping hole.

The angel plummeted to the ground as the gunshot seemed to only then echo through the throne room. It was too fast—this weapon's greatest advantage.

"Hmm, it seems this gun can't deal much damage to gods, but it works very effectively against lower-level angels."

Vulcan, for some reason, designed the Gauss Rifle to be like a WWII-era firearm, requiring a manual bolt action.

Luckily, its user was a warrior like Deathstroke. Even while calculating trajectories and managing targets efficiently, he still found time to complain.

Su Ming pulled back the bolt round after round, dodging attacks, and using his gunfighting skills to take down each enemy, one by one.

Unlike those affected by Albera's magic, the angels hit in the head died instantly due to the Nth Metal bullets.

It seemed that the magic and divine rituals attached to inanimate objects still worked as normal. Hecate seemed to have forgotten about this.

"Such exquisite skill, such a marvelous weapon. If my hands weren't nailed, I might clap."

Mazikeen watched the spectacle. She could see the black-and-yellow armor weave through the room a few times, and after each gunshot, another enemy lay dead.

However, she felt a tinge of regret. Guns killed enemies too quickly—no process, no pain.

No pleasure.

"Queen of Hell, sorry we damaged your palace." Su Ming inspected the angels' bodies to make sure they were dead, then holstered his gun and spoke to Mazikeen.

"It's Lucifer's palace. I'm just the caretaker. And given the current state of things, 'damaged' doesn't quite cover it."

Mazikeen gestured towards the door and hallway, which were covered in blood and gore. The walls were full of holes, like a beehive.

"Let's skip the pleasantries. I need to know where Diana went."

"Her? She entered the Gate of Spikes. She should've returned to the Prime World through a dream. You just missed her." Mazikeen didn't hesitate, directly telling him what he wanted.

"Damn that woman." Su Ming felt a headache coming on. Why was she wandering off? Hecate was searching the world for her.

"Heaven has declared war on us, and Hell can't entertain guests right now. If the answer satisfies you, perhaps you could do me a favor?"

Mazikeen looked at the sorceress. After receiving the "Deathstroke decides" look, she turned her gaze back to the black-and-yellow figure.

"If it's about helping you fight the City of Silver, I'm afraid I don't have time." Su Ming had no interest in getting involved in Heaven and Hell's mythic war. After all, the War of Original Sin happened every thousand years, endlessly.

"No, I suspect there's something wrong with these angels' state, so it may not be God we're dealing with. I have no clues at the moment, so I need to gather all the lords of Hell to discuss it. But first, I must rid myself of these restraints before facing other rulers—lest they get any ideas about me."

Su Ming thought for a moment. It was just a simple task for him. "Sure, I need to cut off your hands, right?"

"Correct. Originally, only a Seraph's sword could sever my bond with Hell, but I noticed you have Nth Metal. As a primordial element of the universe, it should work just as well."

Mazikeen nodded slightly, signaling for Su Ming to ascend the dais and proceed. She didn't have much time either.

No words were exchanged, and there was no hesitation. With his cape carrying him upward, Su Ming flew to her, unsheathed his greatsword, and, with a light stroke, severed her hands at the wrists. He landed softly, the sword returning to its sheath with a "click."

Mazikeen's hands were cut cleanly at the wrists, while the throne beneath them remained undamaged.

Deathstroke's control over power and precision was impeccable.

"Ah!!!!"

The Queen of Hell let out a scream, though her expression seemed somewhat odd.

Pain, yet pleasure—she seemed to revel in it.

Su Ming thought he caught a whiff of something strange, distinct from blood. The visor of his helmet quickly analyzed it, and he couldn't help but twitch at the result.

"Farewell. That purple woman on the ground—keep an eye on her for us."

He grabbed Albera and flew back through the hole they'd come in from. The demons of Hell were acting erratically now—it was no place to linger.

Mazikeen panted for a while. Her hands, nailed to the throne, melted into pus and black smoke before reattaching themselves to her wrists.

The armrests were left with two massive iron nails.

She stood up, flexing her hands. She could wield weapons again. Hellfire engulfed her, and she donned her battle armor.

It was an armor seemingly made of living flesh and blood—just seeing it would evoke a visceral disgust.

Lucifer's bestowed power surged through her body. She could hardly wait to make the angels scream.

With a leap, she dashed down the corridor and out of the castle, leaving behind a few inexplicable stains on the throne.

Su Ming and the others regrouped with Donna and her group, and together, they fought their way back to the main streets of Hell.

Naturally, Su Ming did most of the killing while the others focused on defense and banter. The gorilla's sharp tongue never failed, and his keen insight always found something to mock.

They made their way back to the Oblivion Bar, planning to use it as a waypoint.

Upon arriving, Su Ming found Tracy and the others beating up a woman, cursing her as they did.

"Tracy! Do you even know what you're saying?!"

Bobo jumped onto the bar counter, stopping the girls from fighting. Without their spells, the group of witches was pulling hair and scratching faces like fishwives.

"If your father heard half of the profanity you just spewed, he'd tie you to a cross and burn you himself."

"Ugh, Boss."

Tracy seemed to regain some composure, stepping back and leaning against the bar to catch her breath.

The one being beaten by the group of young witches was also known to Bobo—it was Witchfire, who had lost control before and burned many of the bar's customers to death, killing 90% of Tracy's friends.

The gorilla drew Nightblade. Though he wasn't skilled with weapons, holding the legendary sword felt like having an old friend at his side.

He approached Witchfire, carefully examining her condition.