original

RE: DEATHSTROKE

作者: DE4TH_

章節 1: Chapter 1: City of Sin

He stood on the rooftop of a skyscraper, beneath him a sleepless city with lights shining everywhere. Neon lights in the night dyed the thick hot air rising from the manhole covers in a reddish hue.

It was an early spring night, and the bustling city was shrouded in smog. In the slightly chilly wind, the smell of industrial emissions and wastewater lingered.

What he saw was a city built on wealth, fame, and power, filled with revelry and luxury.

But in the distant darkness, in places beyond his sight, perhaps in dim alleys filled with trash bins, hiding in sewer tunnels where vagabonds sought refuge, or beneath the overpasses where the gangs gathered, there were abandoned guns and corpses, eerie laughter and screams in the darkness, and black, dried-up bloodstains. Every moment told those who arrived here that beneath the glamorous surface of the city lay boundless sin and madness, and anyone who underestimated it would be mercilessly swallowed.

Where was this place? Perhaps one only needed to listen to the descriptions of the citizens to figure it out.

The residents of this city liked to describe it using familiar villain names.

Some said it was like the Killer Croc, because it always lurked in the darkness, devouring people suddenly, leaving no bones or remnants, maybe just a splash of water or a bubble, but nobody cared.

Some said it was like Two-Face, because its merciless choices, whether of justice or evil, order or chaos, constantly rotated in madness, fate flipping like a coin, tossed up and down, leaving people at its mercy.

Some said it was like the Scarecrow, because no matter what beautiful dreams one had before, it would suddenly turn into a nightmare, unearthing the deepest fears until driving them insane, leaving them drooling and wandering the streets.

Some said it was like the Joker because this city was just plain crazy! Haha, hah, hahahaha!

Of course, there was a good chance that this citizen would suddenly erupt, stabbing a pencil or fork into the eye socket of an outsider, and then curiously asking the twitching body with wide, innocent eyes, "Why so serious?"

As a visitor from another world, he didn't need to ask any of the citizens. Just by looking up and seeing the bright bat-shaped spotlights in the night sky, he knew where he was.

"Gotham."

He muttered to himself.

In the next moment, a sudden downpour submerged his figure.

With the faintly sour taste of grey rainwater, everything he had seen and heard before was obscured, covering all the sin and leaving only the sound of pouring rain and an inner chill.

However, this coldness did not come from the rain; he was fully armed, covered from head to toe in sophisticated metal armor.

With a full-face mask and body wrapped in intricate chainmail, his chest, shoulders, and limbs were further protected by another layer of armor. All of this told him that he was no longer an ordinary person.

He used to be an ordinary person, living a simple life that wasn't worth mentioning.

His name was Leon Windsor, and his co-workers called him Leo, which always made Leon feel like he had done something wrong because it was connected to the memory of a tragic incident from his past. As a child, he lost his best friend, Leo, in a fall while exploring an abandoned building. The guilt and pain from that event remained with him, making the name a constant reminder of his past mistakes and loss.

"What happened? Why did I come here? I don't remember."

He reached out to touch his forehead, but the thick tactical gloves prevented any sensation or warmth from reaching the helmet.

Indeed, as a young man, he had come across stories of transmigration and the like in various literary works.

In novels, he had seen people transmigrating due to computer explosions, choking on food, being hit by a car while saving someone, or falling into a toilet while using the restroom. But why had it happened to him?

He looked through the rain curtain, trying to divert his attention from the bat symbol, staring blankly at the dark clouds on the horizon, struggling to recall.

The neon lights on countless tall buildings became blurred in the rain and fog, and everything seemed unreal.

He only remembered going home after work and receiving a phone call inviting him to a middle school classmate's wedding. Then... he played games on his computer for a while? The old laptop made a sound like a tractor when he turned it on.

Yes, he liked fantasy worlds, as they allowed him to briefly forget the monotony of his real life.

He didn't recall any explosions or strange lights and sounds, just a moment of dizziness, and suddenly, he found himself here, standing on the rooftop of Wayne Tower, the tallest building in Gotham City, blown by the evening breeze for no apparent reason.

In this strange place, he had been standing in a daze for about five minutes. After gradually accepting this reality, he fell into confusion.

As for who he was, he knew as soon as he realized he had transmigrated into the DC universe. The night shifts were boring, and he had read many novels and become interested in American comics.

Even though he was just a security guard, he had heard his younger colleagues talk about how "Avengers: Age of Ultron" was good, or "Guardians of the Galaxy" was fun. Some of his female co-workers talked about "Captain America" or "Iron Man and Spider-Man" pairings.

At first, he had no idea what they were talking about.

To establish a common ground and maintain good relationships with his colleagues, he watched the movies on his old computer, and he found them exciting. American blockbusters were full of action.

Later, during his shifts, he used the company's Wi-Fi to read some comics. At first, he couldn't distinguish between Marvel and DC, but after reading many of them, he even memorized hundreds of names and abilities of heroes and villains, as well as the significant events they participated in.

Although he had only read the translated comics, it was enough for him to have some idle chit-chat with his colleagues.

Now, his helmet only provided him with a partial view from the left side. He lowered his head and looked at a small puddle that had formed at his feet. In the ripples, he could see his current appearance.

A black and yellow metal helmet with a hockey mask-like design, and two thin straps hanging from the back of his head fluttered in the wind, similar to Rambo's headband. The left eye of the mask had a red rhombus-shaped visor, while the right half of the face was entirely black, without any seams.

He had become Deathstroke.

His real name was Slade Joseph Wilson, one of the greatest mercenaries and assassins in the DC universe, a master of strategy and tactics, a master of combat, and a master of all weapons.

Originally, he was an enhanced soldier of the US military, with 90% of his brain's development, just a little less than the protagonist of "Lucy". He also had superhuman physical abilities that surpassed the peak of human performance and the ability to heal most wounds.

Later, his superior betrayed his good friend, resulting in his friend being captured by the enemy. Though he rescued his comrade and fought his way out, it led to a falling-out with the military. As a result, he became a mercenary, using his superhuman abilities to do dirty jobs and make a living.

The key point was that he inherited everything from Deathstroke, except for his memories, of course. At least, his physical memories, such as English, driving, and using firearms, came naturally to him.

He was like an outsider, looking at himself swaying on the water's surface from a third-person perspective. Now, all he knew about Deathstroke was from the comics.

At first, after discovering that he had become a person with superpowers, he was quite happy.

Becoming Deathstroke was great; with proper planning and preparation, he could take on anyone without fear. Even against Batman, the beloved son of DC, he had over a 50% chance of winning.

As a supervillain, he even humiliated Robin and the Teen Titans. In the recent New 52 comics, he fought Wonder Woman in hand-to-hand combat, with no kryptonite, and managed to retreat unscathed from Superman.

However, after the initial excitement, he began to feel pressured.

Why?

Because Deathstroke was a mercenary who took on any job for money, regardless of the task or who the employer or target was. In his eyes, there was no difference between superheroes and supervillains; they were all just people.

No matter who gave him a mission, as long as there was money to be made, he would take it.

"This could be troublesome."

He sighed. Leon wanted to light a cigarette, but the mask prevented him from doing so. "In the DC universe, there are many parallel worlds with Gotham and Batman. If it's the movie universe, the upper limit of the world's abilities isn't very high. In the recent Justice League movie, the Atom was knocked around like a ragdoll. But if it's the comic universe, regardless of which one, the danger is significantly increased."

"Earth 0, the main world of the New 52 comics; Earth 3, the world where all heroes and villains switch identities; Earth 10, a world ruled by Nazis; Earth 38, the original world of DC comics."

Leon wiped the mask; the rainwater gathered at his feet like a stream, and he felt very cold now, completely soaked in water.

However, he had never felt so clear-minded. He had read about the different settings in the DC universe, and now he could fully recall them. Was this the ability of Deathstroke's super-brain? But memories should have come with his soul, right?

Now, this body was filled with an explosive sense of power that he had never experienced before. It seemed like he had no choice but to find a place to take shelter from the rain, not just because the early spring rain was freezing, but also because Gotham's industrial pollution made the rain nauseatingly acidic and foul-smelling.

Leaving the edge of the building, he turned his head and decided to leave. Although he had an umbrella bag, he preferred to use the stairs. He had never played with a parachute before, and it would be embarrassing if he fell to his death.

"'World-renowned mercenary commits suicide by jumping off a building in Gotham City, suspected to be related to emotional entanglements with Batman.'"

He could already imagine the headline if he died. He didn't want to die, even though he had transmigrated into a dangerous world; he didn't want to die.

Moreover, he was a pure straight man. Although he didn't discriminate against the Joker and Batman's public displays of affection, he had no desire to be involved in them.