Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 451: Trench Clan

In fact, Su Ming didn't just skip going skyward—his direction was the exact opposite. No one guessed what he was up to.

Now, the three groups had different plans. The Titans were set to blow up the "water supply station," Batman was prepping to shut off the "faucet," and Su Ming was aiming to open the "drain."

He cut off comms one-sidedly and hid his tracks—not just because he didn't want Batman watching his every move, but also to guard against Lex Luthor's potential surveillance.

The aliens were siding with Luthor now—they were his eyes. And if he got the chance, Luthor wouldn't hesitate to stop Su Ming from ruining his plans.

Su Ming was hunting Luthor too. The second that bald head popped into the sunlight, it'd be a fireball greeting.

This was war, and war never changed.

On the battlefield, intel and logistics were always king. Whoever held more info, more resources, had the upper hand.

Just, right now, he didn't have time to use the Eye of Ra for recon. His visor was flooded with all sorts of underwater readings.

No surprise—halfway into the trench, his half-squad spotted the Trench Kingdom.

To Su Ming, calling it ruins was generous. At best, it was just some blackened, coral-crusted, rust-pocked rubble.

Maybe it'd once been part of the ancient Atlantean city, boasting Earth's brightest civilization back then.

But now, it was just a wreck. Aside from the Trench clan, even octopuses wouldn't live in this dump—not when a clay pot was cozier.

Looking down at the faint ruins below, Su Ming raised a fist, signaling the team to pause and scope it out from the edge for a bit.

Underwater, vision was limited, movement was restricted. Strategically, you despise the enemy, but tactically, you respect them.

It was pitch-black down there—no movement visible—and the pressure readings on his tactical visor kept climbing.

He wasn't moving, so that meant the sea level was rising again.

But Su Ming knew—the calmer it seemed, the more something was off.

The Trench clan was infamous for being brainless. Any living thing entering their turf had one fate: swarmed and eaten.

Now, Su Ming was practically at their doorstep, and they still hadn't shown.

He tapped Daniel's shoulder, pointing two fingers at his own eyes—meaning Blue Devil should hold position, cover the sorceress, while Su Ming scouted ahead.

Blue Devil got it. He was a stuntman, after all—playing SWAT or terrorists was his bread and butter. As a solid extra, he knew every tactical gesture cold.

That's an actor's self-discipline!

The Cloak of Levitation gave him underwater breathing and thrust. Now it rocketed Su Ming down into the city's ruins.

Up close, he saw the city was practically wedged into the trench's midsection—like a fish scale stuck in your throat—while below stretched a bottomless abyss.

"Tch, the Fitchas Abyss, huh? Eleven thousand meters deep."

Going down was doable, but the deeper he went, the bigger the risk of running into trouble.

So he switched plans—set up the magic teleport array right here in the Trench Kingdom ruins.

At over five thousand meters, movement was still manageable. Even if the Trench clan ambushed, there'd be some rubble for cover.

As long as he could find the right terrain to hold a choke point, even a hundred thousand sea freaks wouldn't matter—he'd cut them down one sword swing at a time.

Once the array was built, just blast the whole Trench Kingdom "plate" into the abyss. When it hit bottom, remote-trigger the array. Boom—hole in the basin floor.

Of course, given how much water needed draining, this magic array had to be massive—using the entire Trench Kingdom city as a canvas.

That meant a lot more setup work.

He poked around the city a bit. No enemies in sight—out hunting, maybe?

Even better. He swam back to the other two and led them into the city.

Lori and Eve were clearly curious about the surroundings. Under Blue Devil's trident glow, they checked out the city ruins with interest.

Su Ming drew Godslayer—it doubled as a light too. He didn't hesitate to carve into a nearby ruin wall.

Not "Deathstroke was here," but a rewrite of his adjusted plan, plus a rough city sketch.

The size of the needed array, the post-setup plan, and the plate they were standing on—find its weak supports and sink the whole city.

His plan didn't hit any pushback.

For Earth's survival, blowing up some ruins was a no-brainer for anyone.

Blue Devil nodded first, then Nightshade pointed at a spot on the sketch, suggesting they start there.

Teleporting herself and a few people? One thought, and she could open a Shadow Realm passage—slip in, slip out.

But like Deathstroke wrote, draining global seawater meant a giant array and a hefty power supply.

Power wasn't an issue—no need for Manhattan's gems. Su Ming just had to summon Mister Mxyzptlk, fake some accounting glitch, trick him out, then trade that big fireball stashed with him for energy to kickstart the array.

Whether Mxyzptlk was cool with it or felt Deathstroke was breaking a deal—Su Ming figured his IQ couldn't even grasp what a breach was.

When he'd schooled Mxyzptlk, he hadn't brought up breaches, after all.

Their contract had a mercenary term: the "Lazarus Pact." It meant a flexible deal—open to tweaks as long as both sides agreed. Everything was negotiable.

Don't call it a devil's bargain, unfair, or a scam. Truth is, it's usually for long-term partners—shows trust.

It came from a Bible story.

Legend says there was this guy, Lazarus, pals with pre-ascension Jesus. One day he got real sick and croaked fast.

Jesus showed up for the funeral while Lazarus's family bawled to him.

Jesus just smiled, radiating kingly vibes, and said, "Believe in me, and you'll live forever."

Four days later, Lazarus woke up, still in his shroud, and walked out of the tomb.

He'd always trusted Jesus, so he got life back. And thanks to that back-from-the-dead miracle, Jesus scored more followers.

That's the Lazarus Pact—trust, and both sides come out ahead.

Su Ming was usually straight-up in business. Different clients, different contracts.

With Barry, he'd pull the Lazarus Pact—get it done to Barry's liking, haggle the price easy. Not that Barry'd hire a hitman.

With Batman? Standard contract—30% deposit upfront, not a penny less at the end.

So now, he was sure if he hashed out terms, Mxyzptlk wouldn't mind pitching in. Just converting that fireball he was holding into another form.

No harm to him—benefit, even. If main Earth tanked, no sorcerers casting meant his profits would crash too.

Things went smooth enough. A classic six-pointed-star teleport array—traditional, reliable.

It could send people or stuff anywhere in the multiverse. Surviving the drop-off? Not magic's problem.

Nightshade had a ton of casting materials ready—mostly dark, shadowy props. Every stretch she swam, she'd stop to cast and carve giant runes.

Heavy workload, and some patterns were tricky. Sure enough, if Lori'd mimicked her, it'd probably go sideways.

Half an hour passed, and Nightshade basically finished her part. Just one step left—head to the array's center, activate it, and pump in the energy.

Once this side was set, they'd rig an exit in some sneaky space spot. Link the two, and the drainpipe was live.

No time to waste. With that, the four swam toward the plate's central structure.

Yeah, a spire you could still call a building. Beat-up, sure, but it held that old Atlantean flair.

Made of some metal, tough as hell. The door was like a spaceship hatch—Su Ming yanked a few times, no dice, so he sliced it with his sword.

No choice—the array's center was inside this thing. Magic arrays were precision art, and the six-pointed star's geometric heart was right here.

But before the door even hit the ground, Su Ming saw what was behind it. A trypophobe's worst nightmare.

Countless red-glowing eyes, packed tight, layered up in the dark, filling the whole building.

If those were stars in the night sky, the density was insane.

When the door splashed down in the water, every eye swiveled to the entrance.

No need to guess—the Trench clan was all here. The purple water had mutated them twice over, but they were nocturnal.

Food got scarcer down in the trench, so they'd started hitting near-surface waters for fish or whatever else.

But those deep-sea big eyes they'd evolved? Useless in bright light. They could only surface at night, in dim glow.

It was daytime now, no question. They were huddled in this intact building, hibernating like they were keeping warm.

Normal mutations turned Earth's smart life into alien sea-tribe soldiers—but that needed one thing: intelligence.

The Trench clan lost that ages ago. They were basically beasts now, turned into instinct-driven monsters.

Su Ming's night-vision visor showed hundreds of freaky critters crammed in the building—sharp teeth, claws, fishy traits. The alien water just made them bigger, stronger.

On the hall's floor was a hole, with more Trenchers crawling out nonstop.

If the city they stood on was a big stone slab, it had two sides.

The top looked like just ruins and relics—they could wander, scribble, whatever.

But under the slab—the flip side—tens of thousands of Trench clan lived like bats in the sea.

Down there, they'd rebuilt a hive-like nest. This mostly-intact building was the tunnel linking both sides.

And busting in here? Way worse than kicking a hornet's nest.

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