Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 433: Addicted to Impersonation

This meal passed with Su Ming in total comfort and Penguin stewing in misery.

Penguin tried several times to smooth things over with Batman, but Su Ming ignored him completely, leaving Penguin with no way to save face.

Still, Penguin didn't earn his rep as Gotham's slickest mob boss for nothing. Despite fuming inside, he kept grinning and bore it all.

Probably plotting some big scheme against Batman now, huh? Batman'd be thrilled—his old pal's got a new game plan.

Su Ming waved off the escorts, told Penguin to tip them, then wiped his mouth and got ready to bounce.

Not just him—even Venom was stuffed and happy.

Sure, its main course was human brains, but after chowing down on some earlier, a little fish head or other scraps made for a nice change of pace.

Penguin was still dazed, staring at the table littered with empty plates. Batman had rolled into his joint and polished off over three hundred dishes. It all felt like a fever dream.

"Gonna go find someone else. Thanks for the hospitality."

Su Ming shoved the door open and left.

Meanwhile, Penguin was already thinking about relocating. Maybe set up shop in Star City? If Batman started showing up every night to eat and hassle him, he'd lose it!

But the Batman strolling down the street had already fired his "Bat-grapple" and swung up onto a nearby building, vanishing into the night.

With so many dishes—even just a bite of each—Su Ming was a little overstuffed. Time to find a spot to work it off.

So that same night, Two-Face and Black Mask didn't escape "Batman's" wrath either. Their nightclubs and bars got a visit from the Dark Knight.

Free drinks, free fun, plus he roughed up a bunch of their goons—those medical bills were gonna stack up fast.

And they picked up some new intel: Batman wasn't just a pro at piano and every instrument under the sun—he loved to dance too. He hogged every escort in the joint.

But this info? Totally useless!

He even cracked weird jokes to the girls, leaving Two-Face and Black Mask wondering if he'd been dosed with something.

Picture Batman sprawled on a big couch, arms around a girl on each side, tossing out lines like, "Wanna know my secret identity?" or "Because I'm Batman!"—total oddball stuff.

They could almost see the Joker under that bat-cowl. Chilling thought—was this the rumored "Laughing Bat" the streets whispered about?

But Two-Face and Black Mask playing nice took the fun out of it for Su Ming. He wanted hardcore, uncooperative crooks.

Beating them down as Batman, stripping them naked, and dangling them outside the GCPD for reporters to snap a serialized drama—that's the good stuff.

Too bad the smart mob bosses didn't give him an opening.

They greeted him with smiles, all respectful-like. Two-Face didn't even flip his coin—just served up top-shelf smokes and booze and let him pick whichever girls he wanted.

No chance for Su Ming to blow a gasket.

Still, he'd eaten and played in Gotham. Time to use Batman's ID for something legit.

Amanda Waller wasn't sleeping at this ungodly hour—she was waiting for a report from R&D.

Task Force X had brought back a pair of blue gloves. They claimed it was the most valuable thing inside that gestalt entity.

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The black-ops queen nodded on the outside, but she didn't buy a word of it.

Batman was on the other side. No way he'd let them walk off with the real prize, right?

Yet the lab's analysis said Task Force X was telling the truth!

With all of ARGUS's tech and resources, they couldn't figure out what the gloves were made of or how they morphed.

The head scientist swore to Amanda these came from an unknown world—beyond the Source Wall.

Amanda's pulse raced. This was a major political win. A regular U.S. agent like her snagging the biggest prize out from under the Justice League's nose!

Couldn't crack it? No problem—the less they understood, the more valuable it was.

If it took a century to decode, that just made it priceless!

Task Force X had played this one right.

She cut Deadshot a break to spend a couple days with his daughter, swapped Killer Croc's cell water, gave Firefly some fresh records, handed Boomerang a keg, and hooked Harley up with a triple-layer cake.

Reduced sentences were one thing—extra goodies showed Amanda was in a damn good mood.

Now she was just waiting on the lab's initial write-up. She needed something to pitch upstairs—some hard science to make the higher-ups take notice.

That'd mean more funding and clout for ARGUS.

But as she sank into her daydreams, an agent reported in: Batman was here.

Amanda took a deep breath.

She'd spent years flirting with disaster. She'd tangle with anyone else in the Justice League, but Batman? Too deep, too dark.

She knew his real identity, understood the power of capital in this country. She could push around grassroots heroes, but a mega-rich guy like Batman? Untouchable.

She didn't even dare spill his secret.

Whether anyone'd believe her aside, his brain had contingencies for an identity leak locked and loaded—like "alibis" with Bruce Wayne and Batman popping up on opposite sides of the globe at once.

Rich folks were bad news. Smart, rich superheroes? Worse. If she tried exposing Batman, she'd be at war with the Justice League.

That green freak could mind-whammy her into confessing every dirty job she'd done for the government in front of dozens of news outlets.

Better not square up against the League head-on—not yet, anyway.

Green Arrow from the Justice League? Another rich brainiac? She forgot they even had that guy.

"What's Batman doing here now? Does he know we've got that glove-weapon?"

The reporting agent couldn't say. If Batman wanted to know something, the world held no secrets from him.

Amanda realized her question was dumb and dropped it.

"I'll meet him. Tell the lab to move the project."

She buttoned her suit jacket, her stocky frame rolling toward the door like a gas canister. No way was she letting Batman into ARGUS's command hub—not now.

But Batman proved her hopes were just that: hopes. He didn't play by her rules.

He strolled right in like he owned the place, like he'd been here before—knew every camera, every hidden agent post by heart.

The agents Deathstroke had KO'd earlier in the day? Batman knocked them out again. They'd probably wake up crying.

Of course, if any of them were sharp enough to figure out it was the same guy both times, Su Ming would have to silence them permanently.

So as Amanda stepped out to meet Batman, a dark silhouette was already standing outside the command room door.