Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 517: Distrust

Su Ming sighed, knowing the root cause was that the girls simply didn’t trust him.

Their instructors must have pulled similar tricks before.

For instance, having unfamiliar guards pose as rescuers, do-gooders with a conscience.

They’d unlock the girls’ handcuffs, claiming they were helping them escape.

But if a girl actually followed the guard out of the room, it meant her training wasn’t thorough enough. Deductions or beatings were the least of it—she might even be executed on the spot.

Leviathan wanted the girls to know no one could save them. Obedience was their only option.

Physical cages weren’t the strongest tool in this confinement facility. The mental prison was the real key, breaking those trapped inside by stripping away hope, forcing them to accept reprogramming.

The girls had likely learned through blood-soaked lessons not to follow strangers who unlocked their cuffs in the dead of night.

"Calm down, I’m from America," Su Ming said, poking the girl’s cheek to show he meant no harm.

"Grr!"

The girl tried to bite his finger, still resisting.

The kid didn’t even know where America was. To a secret organization, nations weren’t dividing lines on their map—just place names.

They hadn’t gotten to geography in their lessons yet.

Su Ming pulled his hand back, worried his gauntlet might chip her teeth.

He took a deep breath. Was the "I’m American" line, foolproof in the movies, really failing him now? Reality was just too grim.

"Do you know Natalia? I was sent by her family to save her. Her full name is Natalia Alianovna Romanova. Loves teddy bears, foster father named Ivan, born in Stalingrad, later lived in Moscow. See, a guard wouldn’t know this. Your intel is useless to the Red Room."

The girl he was holding stopped struggling. She glanced at the girl on the bed, looking stunned.

"Really? You’re not a guard?"

"Nope," Su Ming said, setting her down. She wasn’t a threat. "And I really came from far, far away."

"I’m still not leaving," the girl said, standing her ground, refusing to head for the door.

"Fine. I’m going to free the others. You can watch from the doorway. The guards out there? All dead," Su Ming said, turning to free the girl on the bed, whose wrist had been torn up from her struggling.

After unlocking her cuffs, she still looked pained, clutching her leg.

"I dislocated it when I kicked and missed," she said, slowly sitting up against the headboard. "Can you carry me out?"

She hiked up her dress a bit, showing Su Ming her leg.

Su Ming sighed. They still wanted to kill him. They still didn’t trust him.

"Have your roommate carry you. I’ve got work to do."

No way was he falling for that. Believe him or not, with hundreds of prisoners in these cells, he’d find someone who’d trust him.

One leader would make things easier.

The two girls exchanged a sneaky glance. Why wasn’t this like the instructors’ lessons?

Weren’t men supposed to stare at a woman’s legs? Why did this guy just walk away?

Was he even human? Or just a walking suit of armor?

"What do we do?" the first girl asked, conflicted, tempted to peek outside.

The girl on the bed hopped down, perfectly fine. "Listen for sounds first. Don’t go near the door."

"He’s strong. Stronger than the toughest instructor," the first girl sighed.

"If you don’t want to die, wait. I’ll check what’s happening outside."

Su Ming opened the opposite cell, facing similar treatment. The two girls there tried to seduce him, but he left unfazed.

Now two more curious faces peered out, cautiously watching the hall, exchanging looks with the girls across.

The corridor stayed quiet, save for the jangle of Su Ming’s keys as he unlocked doors.

In the brighter hallway light, the girls saw guards’ bodies strewn about, and two large bundles at the stairwell.

Su Ming had Stranglehold leave the gear there. Unless necessary, he didn’t want the girls seeing the symbiote. They were already paranoid—Stranglehold’s appearance would only make things harder to explain.

As Su Ming turned while unlocking another door, he caught flashes of blonde hair ducking back behind doorframes. They were spying.

He thought for a moment, then walked to the middle of the corridor. He hacked up a few guards’ corpses, tossing their submachine guns and heads outside the cells.

They’d recognize these patrol guards. Maybe this would build some trust.

It wasn’t enough. The girls couldn’t tell if this was another instructor trick. They’d seen plans before that used guards’ bodies as bait—everyone was expendable.

The guns looked nice, but were they even loaded?

They just didn’t believe him.

Su Ming wasn’t in a rush. Once he opened all the cells and freed everyone, he could wait at the main exit. They’d come out eventually.

Disrupting their routine would spark curiosity, and curiosity would drive action.

Open doors, unlock cuffs, explain briefly, spar with the girls—rinse and repeat.

Still, no one dared step out.

"Hm, this cell’s different. Two guards posted at the door."

As Su Ming kept unlocking, he’d glance back and see little heads ducking back like a game of whack-a-mole.

But when he opened this door, he was attacked instantly. The occupants weren’t chained.

A blonde girl grabbed his head to block his vision while another went for a low blow, aiming to take him down.

No dice. Even blind, Su Ming’s spatial awareness and Stranglehold’s shared vision weren’t for show.

He grabbed both girls, dragged them into the corridor, and with a flick of his wrists, tossed them onto the pile of guard corpses.

"Ask the others yourselves. I’m done talking."

Then he moved on to the next door like nothing happened.

Dottie and Anya were baffled. They’d thought it was a guard, that morning had come as usual. But the figure that entered was a complete stranger—a monster.

Black-and-yellow armor, a single red eye, like a walking machine.

But the plan was set. They attacked, only to be flung away like pebbles.

They rolled to disperse the impact, grabbing guns from the corpses.

The advanced submachine guns were fully loaded, safeties off.

But the guards clearly hadn’t had time to fire. Dozens of them, dead in an instant.

"Anya, grab the grenades. If we die, our bodies can’t fall into their hands," Dottie said, holding her gun, staying alert.

"He might not be a guard," Anya said, scavenging gear and ducking into a nearby room. "He might actually be saving people."

"Don’t fall for it. It’s too convenient. It’s a trap. If a strike team comes down, save your bullets," Dottie replied, not buying it. She watched the stairs and the armored figure.

Su Ming opened another cell, freeing the girls inside. This time, they didn’t react aggressively.

"I heard you. You’re looking for someone," one said.

"Yeah, Natalia."

"Why?"

"Let’s say we’ve got a mutual friend. Logan Howlett, a Canadian with sideburns you can’t tell from a beard, claws that pop out of his hands."

The girl looked at her companion, who nodded. "I’m Natalia. You found me."

Su Ming studied her. Red hair, but too many redheads here to be sure.

Then it clicked. He pointed at the other girl. "No, you’re not. She is."

The first girl, also a redhead with shoulder-length hair, blinked. "How’d you know?"

"Nat?!"

The girl who’d claimed to be Natasha looked shocked, unable to believe Natasha had confirmed her identity. Su Ming noticed her inching closer, eyeing his gun.

"Accents. Natalia was raised by Ivan, learned to speak from him. Her Russian’s got a slight twang. You? No accent. You grew up here. That’s your tell. Consider this your first lesson: don’t play true-or-false games. Not every enemy’s patient."

The fake Natasha bolted for the room like the floor was lava, but Natasha grabbed her.

"You said my uncle sent you to find me?"

Natasha was starting to believe. She’d seen Wolverine in action—one claw to kill a master ninja. If this was his friend, he’d have the strength to storm the Red Room.

This might be a real rescue.

Uncle was her name for Wolverine. But now, Wolverine was likely at the start of his endless cycle of memory loss.

Yeah, Logan’s mind was gone. In 1943, he was probably under secret control, manipulated by some nut named Romulus, set up to enlist and assassinate Captain America.

"I know him, but he didn’t send me. He thinks you and Ivan are living the good life."

Natasha gave a bitter smile, her young face dropping. "They’ve invested too much in me. I can’t live a good life anymore."

Su Ming patted her head and moved to the next door. "That’s only true here. In America, Leviathan’s reach isn’t that long."

"You’re taking me to America?"

"Not just you. Everyone, if they’re willing."