บท 1833: I'll Give You a Chance, 1+1 = 3?

A bright white streak of electricity flew out of the blade.

Boom!

Face ashen, the Asian guy raised his hands high. His sturdy body stopped and he didn't dare move.

There was a black, five-meter-long gash in the ground, just past the tip of his shoe.

He had been one step away from being cut in half! The Asian man's legs trembled as he tried to suppress the urge to piss in his pants. That was too ridiculous! The boss hadn't said that there was an expert swordsman here!

Terrified, he stared at the black-and-white skull that landed in front of him. Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind, and he exclaimed, "Deathstroke! Are you Deathstroke?"

Luke himself was stunned for a moment. What knell?

The old man, who had retreated to a corner to secretly use his superpower, was stunned when he heard that. Wait, why did this name… sound a little familiar?

When it came to him, he shuddered. Holy sh*t, it was Deathstroke! That Deathstroke?