Multiverse: Deathstroke

Chapter 18: Ch.17 The Reporter Receives Her Reward

Su Ming and Cindy took about five minutes before meeting up again in the pouring rain.

The night seemed even darker than usual, and the whole street was filled with an uneasy atmosphere. Many civilians, having been startled awake, were hiding behind the curtains of their homes, afraid to turn on the lights and attract attention. Instead, they stared out through rain-soaked glass, peering fearfully at the two blurry figures below.

"I have only bad news: I found ninja footprints on the rooftop. It seems other members of the League of Shadows were here before us."

Cindy looked at the knee-high water flooding the streets. Gotham's drainage system was working at full capacity, but it couldn't keep up with the intensity of the rain.

Su Ming nodded, signaling that he hadn't found anything either.

The inside of the building had been cleaned so thoroughly it was unnatural, especially for a low-income neighborhood. The black-clad attackers must have deliberately tidied up before leaving.

Determined, Su Ming tried to find witnesses, breaking down a few doors and threatening residents with guns and knives. Despite some of them being scared into wetting their bedsheets, there were still no witnesses.

This suggested the attackers moved swiftly and quietly. On the bright side, it also meant no one fired any shots, so Gordon was likely uninjured.

Sighing, Su Ming realized their only remaining clue was the assassin's corpse. Should they use it to lure the League of Shadows into a conversation?

That would be too passive. By the time the League came for the body, they might have already wiped out the attackers, leaving Gordon dead long before.

"We should return to the car and bring the body with us."

With no other options, Su Ming and Cindy headed back to the vehicle. Staring at the river of rainwater flowing down the streets, both of them silently contemplated their next move.

"Why do you think she was dressed like that? There are no gunshot wounds. How was she captured?"

Cindy had her theories but wanted to hear Su Ming's opinion. As he had mentioned, their combined knowledge often filled in gaps, and more clues were always helpful.

They sat in the driver's seat: Cindy leaned against the steering wheel while Su Ming lounged in the passenger seat, hands behind his head.

Shaking his head, Su Ming watched as Vika bossed Peter around, directing him to film the sky one moment and the flood the next.

"In Gotham, a lot of people could pull this off. Scarecrow's fear gas is available on the black market, practically ready to be sold in supermarkets. Killer Croc, Clayface—those mutants all take mercenary jobs if their employers can pay. But our black-clad friends acted rashly. The League of Shadows would never divulge secrets, no matter the torture. All they did was invite the wrath of the League."

"Such a waste. They could've been potential clients with all that cash."

Cindy lamented, feeling as though she'd lost a huge payday. No matter what kind of group it was, their opponents were mere mortals, while the League of Shadows comprised highly trained assassins.

These assassins were trained from a young age, mastering weapons at four, learning to kill by five, and by eight, they were executing missions worldwide. They had no sense of self, abandoning their real names to become weapons of the League. The lower-ranked assassins had no honor—only skill in striking from the shadows.

Maybe the group responsible for killing the assassins would soon be wiped out, but before that happened, Su Ming and Cindy needed to find Gordon.

Barbara, realizing their trail had gone cold, also understood that Gordon was likely safe for now—but maybe only for the next three hours. The three of them sat in silence, thinking about their remaining clues.

The surrounding streets had long since had their surveillance cameras destroyed by Gotham's numerous villains, leaving nothing to trace. Su Ming felt like he was back in the 1980s, wondering how cops solved cases back then.

As they sat deep in thought, Vika returned cheerfully, humming a tune as she and Peter came back, clearly pleased with the footage they had captured.

Taking off her rain-soaked coat, Vika noticed Barbara's worried expression.

"Oh? What's got the little girl down?" she asked curiously, looking at Su Ming.

"Because, aside from a female corpse, we've got no leads. Did the TV station call you? Any helpful viewers?"

Vika chuckled. "Despite the reward you offered, no one dares lie to you. Even the con artists are scared stiff. So far, no one's called the hotline."

She pulled out her phone and waved it. The TV station had indeed called earlier, but only to confirm she was still alive and to pass along a message to Deathstroke: the station would cooperate with his demands, just please don't kill them.

"No calls? Aren't they going to help me look for clues? Looks like they need more motivation. Maybe we should head to the station and kill a few people to get them excited," Cindy grumbled. In her past missions, clients at least provided a name or picture of the target—nothing as complicated as this.

"Good idea! You could start with our news director. She's awful—always trying to stifle talented journalists like me."

Vika eagerly encouraged Cindy to drive back to the TV station for a massacre. If she could use Deathstroke to get rid of her nemesis, her life would be much easier.

Her thoughts constantly danced on the edge of madness, as if she were a detached observer, unaffected by the events unfolding around her.

Su Ming took off his helmet, smirking knowingly at Vika. He could tell she had discovered something and was now angling for her reward, like a bounty hunter savoring the moment before claiming their prize.

"You want us to start killing already? Did you find something? That reward is only for those who provide clues."

Vika smiled smugly and pulled out a pair of glasses from her pocket, still wet as if they had just been pulled from the water. She handed them to Barbara.

"You can't go back on your word now. The person who provided the clue is me."

She pointed to herself, and when Barbara confirmed the glasses belonged to Gordon, Vika continued.

"Commissioner Gordon dropped his glasses when he was abducted, but he managed to leave a clue on them. I found them hidden underwater, covered by the corpse and some stones. If I hadn't been lucky, I wouldn't have noticed."

Su Ming took the glasses from Barbara. At first glance, they seemed ordinary—typical old-man glasses with a very outdated style. Perhaps Barbara inherited her poor fashion sense from her father.

But he knew it couldn't be that simple. Under the car's interior light, Su Ming tilted the glasses and saw some faint scratches etched onto the lenses.

"He used a sharp stone to carve a message on the lenses," Cindy noted after peering at them. "It's a license plate number. Probably the vehicle they used to kidnap him."

"Classic Gordon. Even while being kidnapped, he left a clue. Barbara, it's up to you now. You know what to do, right?"

Su Ming handed the glasses back to her. Barbara knew exactly what to do and immediately opened her laptop to hack into the Department of Transportation's servers, searching for footage or registration information on the car.

But the system's response was disappointing: the server was down.

"Damn it! The city's traffic monitoring servers are offline. The storm must've knocked out their power!"

Barbara slammed her wheelchair armrest in frustration, swearing in anger. All she wanted was to save her father, but it seemed like the universe was working against her.

Su Ming calmed her down, assuring her it wasn't the end. Since they had the license plate number, there was another place where they could find the information.

"I know a place that has all the data on Gotham, but whether you can access it depends on you."

"I-I can do it!" Barbara nodded seriously, determined. "Even if I get arrested, I'll save him."

Su Ming just smiled. He looked over at Cindy, who already knew what he was referring to. She shrugged indifferently but gestured toward the back of the van.

"Then you better blindfold them and remove their SIM cards. We can't let them remember the way to this place."