Michael glanced at Poison Ivy; she was also momentarily thrown off by his male identity, unsure of what to think. He walked past her and went straight to the sofa, sitting down.
The sofa was a bit dirty, with several dark red stains and dried marks left by spilled drinks. Under the colorful lights, these traces made the place look even more like a club. Sitting on it in his black and yellow armor didn't quite match the decor.
"Let's exchange information, then. How did the Jester tell you to find the Bat? After that, I'll tell you my story."
He looked at Harley, hoping to obtain some concrete information.
Harley looked back at him. No man had ever dared to get this close to her, which made her curious. But as soon as he asked the question, her expression changed to one as if she were about to cry:
"Sigh, that's a long story..."
Harley agreed to his suggestion and, regardless of whether Michael intended to listen, began to narrate incessantly in a resentful tone about her relationship with the Jester and how, ever since the Jester first met the Bat several years ago, she'd been obsessed with her.
In her stories, the pure and kind little Harley also wanted to play with them but was always bullied by the bad Bat. As Harley's good friend, Ms. Jester didn't care at all; she even wanted to play alone with the Bat and leave Harley behind.
This made Harley confused and aggrieved, but she was a strong woman, so she gritted her teeth and persevered time and again.
Michael realized that Harley indeed had her own agenda. If he hadn't read so many DC comics and movies, deeply understanding that besides being a famous lunatic, Harley Quinn was also a torture expert and a master psychologist, he might have thought he was talking to some princess from a fairy tale.
Pure, beautiful, kind, strong, optimistic, and smart—in her words, she and the Jester were the two most perfect women in the world, while Batwoman was the "sneaky girl hanging upside down under the eaves," not only sinister but always making moves on the Jester, her eyes always leering.
In her narration, there was almost zero useful information, except letting Michael know how Harley and the Jester met in this Earth -11 universe. Everything else was Harley's memories and her views on things.
Not only was she telling stories, but she was also constantly trying to find common ground in the conversation—that is, areas where Michael and she shared similar views or perceptions—attempting to piece together his psychological profile.
Under Harley's crazy exterior, she never lacked wisdom. The dual identities of psychologist and lunatic merged in her, giving her double the joy.
"Alright, let me interrupt for a moment. You can stop trying. I'm Deathstroke from a parallel universe, so my brain is also much faster than a normal person's. If you're trying to profile me, you can save your effort."
Seeing that Harley was about to tell him the story of how she and the Jester played tricks on the Penguin, Michael immediately interrupted her. Too much time had passed already, and it seemed these stories had no end.
He stretched his stiff neck and looked back to see that Cindy and Poison Ivy had somehow sat down on another sofa. The two were drinking and listening with great interest.
Well, it seems that even in this world, the habit of women loving gossip still exists.
"Oh, so you're from a parallel universe," Harley subtly shifted the topic, giving up her previous psychological tactics. "That's a bit boring... I thought you and her were wearing matching outfits because you were, you know, together."
As she spoke, Harley ambiguously extended her little finger, hooking it in the air to imply a romantic relationship.
"You're not surprised to hear about parallel universes. Was Cindy's last invasion very sensational?"
Michael didn't take her bait at all. Whether he admitted or denied the previous topic, Harley would steer the conversation away, and he wouldn't get the answers he wanted by being led by her.
"Yeah, she put on quite a show for us," Harley said, lightly leaping up and spinning in the air, striking a ballet-like curtain call pose. "Although the main battlefield was in Metropolis, the exploding flames—tsk tsk—were clearly visible from Gotham. So beautiful; I almost could hear the desperate screams of the residents there."
Cindy spread her hands at this point, as if to say, "See? She's a lunatic."
Michael remained expressionless and suddenly said, "So now that you know the world is going to be destroyed, you should be happy, right?"
"Mm-hmm, yes." Harley nodded repeatedly with a smile, like a student receiving praise from a teacher. "Why else do you think we're celebrating here?"
Michael smiled inwardly—his plan was working. He had indeed gotten Harley to reveal that she knew the Earth was going to be destroyed.
"Wait, you invited me here to celebrate this?" Poison Ivy suddenly stood up, looking at Harley in disbelief, wishing she could give her a good scolding.
"Hmm? Didn't I tell you? Little Puddin' told me the world is going to be destroyed, and we're all gonna die."
Harley tilted her head, looking at Ivy in confusion. Had she really forgotten to mention it?
"You just said no one was at home and invited me to party with you, and it turns out it's because the world is ending? If the Earth is gone, how will my plants survive?"
Ivy complained discontentedly. She didn't care about her own life or death, but her plants had to survive. Harley hurriedly ran over, heartbroken, soothing Ivy by gently stroking her smooth back like petting a cat.
"Aww, anyway, we're all gonna kick the bucket. After that, we won't see the plants die, so we won't be sad, right?"
Such crazy talk obviously didn't provide any comfort. Ivy just squinted at her.
At this point, Michael asked, "Don't you have spaceships or something? Surviving in outer space isn't a bad idea."
In many of DC's worlds, not only are there spaceships but also aliens. The Justice League's space station is called the 'Watchtower,' located in geosynchronous orbit above Earth.
His question elicited a unanimous response from the three women:
"What's a spaceship?" ×3
Although their tones and inflections were different, it was clear that such a concept didn't exist in their understanding.
"Um... it's a ship that can take people beyond the atmosphere to live outside Earth," Michael explained.
Cindy and Ivy looked at him strangely, but Harley's eyes lit up, looking at him with relief:
"I knew it! Ships can fly! Hee hee hee, I'm not crazy!"
Being considered a kindred spirit by someone who is obviously mentally unstable—what does that say?
It turns out that in this Amazon-ruled world, everything still follows their Themysciran ways. They have more faith in the power of the gods, and as for science, that's just lies to fool the common people.
Earth is the center of the universe; why would anyone want to leave it? Besides, if you work hard and train, you can fly on your own.
Can science make you immortal? Can science keep you forever young? The things science can't do, divine power can.
So in this world, they don't even have airplanes. If you really want to fly... how about a magic carpet?
To Michael, this news was headache-inducing. No wonder Earth -11 eventually perished in a great tsunami. All of this was part of Barbatos's plan. He must have seen that there were no aircraft here and used this world as a catalyst to lure Bryce into darkness.
Michael and the others were now trying to cut off the fuse that would ignite the powder keg but currently had no leads. As for the key person, Bryce—who knows where she had gone? All their planning was for nothing.
"No, I can't sit and wait for death. If Earth is destroyed, the plants can't survive either. I have to do something."
Ivy didn't indulge in Harley's sweet words and "beautiful and warm death" with her. She decided to put up a fight.
"By the way, you said you're from a parallel universe. Can you go back? Taking me and my plants to hide there would be good."
"Nice idea, but unfortunately, I can't go back myself."
Michael candidly stated his predicament. If he could escape, he would have persuaded Cindy to run away together. What does Earth -11 have to do with him? The problem now is that he's stuck on this doomed ship and can't get off.
Poison Ivy's hope was dashed. She fell into deep thought again, turning to look at Harley, who was idly playing with her hair, as if what everyone was discussing had nothing to do with her.
"By the way, did the Jester tell you how this destruction is going to happen?"
"She didn't say. Anyway, she said it very seriously, so it must be true."
No one knew how Harley could see seriousness in the Jester's chaotic letter. In short, she knew Earth was doomed but didn't know how.
"Probably because of war? Those guys under the sea have been at war with the Amazon Council for a long time." Ivy leaned against Harley. As the world's most famous environmentalist, she seemed a bit dispirited, speaking weakly: "This kind of war isn't something we can stop. Using weapons of mass destruction will ruin this world. The Jester probably foresaw this."
Harley, on the other hand, contentedly patted her head, picking a leaf from Poison Ivy's hair and fiddling with it, trying to place it on her own head. But no matter how she matched it, it didn't look right, lacking any natural beauty; instead, it looked like a fallen leaf stuck on her head.
"Probably. Whatever. I'm actually curious about what dying feels like. I want to experience it."
Watching the two start to play around again, Michael shook his head.
"You guys carry on. We'll be leaving now. By the way, the thing that destroys the world is a great flood."
After speaking, he pulled Cindy, casually took a bag of chips from the table, and leisurely left. By tomorrow, when they sober up, maybe they'll be a bit more serious when dealing with those mutilated bodies downstairs.
Cindy, holding her helmet, was pulled along for a few steps and could still hear Harley and Ivy whispering behind them.
"A great flood—is that the Apocalypse?" Ivy asked.
"Mm-hmm, like Noah's Ark," Harley replied vaguely.
"It's an ark, you little dummy," Ivy corrected.
"Hmph, I'm not dumb. I'll bite you," Harley retorted.
The two started giggling and messing around on the sofa again. Harley didn't care about life or death at all, while Ivy, knowing it would be a flood, relaxed instead. Strictly speaking, seaweed and kelp are also plants. As long as there are plants, she doesn't mind dying herself.
Cindy sighed and returned to the hallway with Michael. The noisy music behind them was still blaring. She felt a bit helpless:
"What should we do now? We really have no leads."
Michael pulled out a rope and tied it to a nearby pipe, testing its sturdiness. Holding the rope, he jumped out of the window. The cold rain once again chilled his blood.
The flashy environment just now was actually Harley's self-hypnosis, while the threat of death constantly loomed over their heads.
Their car was destroyed; they could only walk and talk.
"You said you've been to the Batcave. What about Wayne Manor?" Michael asked Cindy while looking around, trying to find some means of transportation.
"Of course. Not only her, but her old butler is also missing."
"Could they have been kidnapped?"
"No, the security measures are still intact. All the rooms are tidy, with no signs of a struggle. She left on her own and took the butler with her."
"In her Batcave, there's a system that monitors all of Gotham. Did you try it?"
"Well, we'd need her two eyeballs and a palm print to activate that system."
They walked quite a distance, gradually leaving the Circus's territory, but still had no good ideas. Just then, Michael found a means of transportation.
It was a pile of unicycles, randomly stacked against the wall in the rain, the cold metal glistening.
These were probably the property of the Circus, and their owners were likely the people Michael and Cindy had taken down earlier. The encounter site wasn't far from here.
No matter which world's Joker gang, these people liked to do some tricks when killing, like riding unicycles and shooting at crowds with apples on their heads.
"Can you ride these things?" Michael pulled out two unicycles from the metal pile, one in each hand.
Cindy took one and tried it. It wobbled at first but quickly stabilized. With Deathstroke's physique and brain balance, learning to ride a unicycle only took a dozen seconds.
Michael soon realized this too. Not only did he move smoothly, but even if given some small balls or apples now, he could juggle while riding.
Under their superhuman strength, the unicycles moved almost as fast as cars. The only drawback was probably the lack of a windshield; the pouring rain drenched them directly.
His skin could feel the coldness of the armor. The thick Nth metal was always so reliable, but the black and yellow armor was also constantly absorbing his body heat, as if intending to change him into a cold-hearted person from the inside.
"Now can you tell me your destination? If I'm not mistaken, you shouldn't know the roads here," Cindy reminded him as they rode side by side.
"Uh, you're right." Michael certainly didn't know Gotham's streets; he couldn't even clearly say where Batwoman's home and company were. "We've now learned that Bryce took Alfred and ran off, which means she plans to take her relatives and friends with her. But among these people, there's one person who definitely wouldn't go with her."
"You mean..." Cindy nodded slightly, the red monocle on her mask shining under the streetlights.
Michael confirmed her guess, glanced at the timid black figures in the alley by the road, and pulled out his gun to scare them off. "We're going to find him now, then make some big news to force the Bat out to save him."
"Heh, I like this plan. Your previous actions were too timid. This way, follow me."