I Become Deathstroke

Chapter 775: Chapter 733: Hearts Dispersed

As the three were lost in thought, a few soldiers appeared from the edge of the plaza not far away. But they didn’t have any weapons in their hands — just bottles of alcohol. They staggered over with their arms around each other’s shoulders.

"Hic... why are there three people standing in the pit?" A soldier with a flushed face shook his head, thinking he was seeing things.

Everyone had gone off to celebrate the demise of the Celestial God. Who would be striking poses in the ruins?

"Probably... probably just three fools."

"Yeah, just ignore them, let’s move on to the next bar."

"Drink, hahaha."

As they talked, they started drinking right there on the spot, the liquor dribbling from their mouths, soaking the front of their uniforms.

Their armor was both gold and silver, matching the characteristics described in Michelangelo’s prophecy, and Tesla recognized them at a glance.

But what was going on now? Although he didn’t want scenes of mutual slaughter and rivers of blood, what on earth was this scene of closeness and delight?

Even as the Thunder King, Tesla’s brain was overloading. He couldn’t figure it out; this timeline really was messed up.

Howard was more straightforward than Tesla. Since he didn’t know what was going on, he decided to ask someone in the know.

Ignoring the drunkards’ looks as if they were watching an idiot, he strode over. In the Holy Shield Brotherhood, if anyone had the thickest skin, Howard was definitely at the top of the list.

The big newspapers and tabloids in the United States spun stories about him every day, spreading tales of his debauched private life to the point where everyone knew, and yet he wouldn’t feel even a twinge of embarrassment.

He openly declared in interviews that he had invented strip mahjong, claiming it was the greatest invention of the 20th century.

If the soldiers’ gazes were like a barrage of bullets, Howard’s skin was like an Iron Wall Tank, and he briskly walked over, still head held high.

"Guys, why are you drinking?"

"Hic... fool, does drinking need a reason?" the soldier from before laughed and scolded, and the group burst into laughter.

Howard pouted. It was actually true; he himself didn’t need a reason to sleep with women. The soldier made a good point.

Happiness is a reason.

"Uh, then I’ll change the subject. What are you celebrating?" Howard stroked his little mustache and coughed.

Expressions shifted among the soldiers. If their eyes previously only looked at fools with disdain and mockery, now, they were filled with sympathy.

"How pathetic, not just a dim wit but blind too," a soldier murmured, shoving half a bottle of liquor into Howard’s arms. "You’re in no condition to be outside; go home and rest properly."

"???"

Howard’s face was full of question marks, and even his little mustache seemed droopy. What were they talking about?

The one who had drunk the most, with a face entirely red, finally gave the answer: "The Celestial God has been eliminated; Earth is safe now."

In their excitement, they even started chanting slogans.

"Our world will not end!"

"Long live humanity!"

"Our gaaaah....!"

"Walter?!" Howard’s face changed dramatically. How did he step out for a bit only for the (supposedly crucial) Celestial Divine Species to end up dead?

The plan Tesla recounted wasn’t like this at all...

Another soldier, dizzy with drunkenness, added, "Yeah, he was so powerful, way stronger than the masters."

"Wait, who are you talking about?" Howard interjected quickly.

"You wouldn’t know even if we told you, hic...." The drunken soldiers swayed like seaweed in front of Howard, and after letting out a flurry of giggles, they struck a pose before continuing: "That master referred to himself as Deathstroke; he killed the Celestial God with just a few swords."

"Yeah, just five swords." Another soldier retched a bit but still didn’t forget to venerate Deathstroke’s power: "I saw it crystal clear....."

"Pah!" Another soldier rested his head on Howard’s shoulder, constantly whispering in his ear: "I was closer and saw it much clearer, four swords!"

How many swords exactly, Howard was no longer interested.

He seemed to have lost his soul, gently pushing the soldiers aside and dragging heavy steps toward Tesla and the others. After recounting the events, the three sat down in the big pit and started smoking, the atmosphere utterly gloomy.

The silence lasted for several minutes.

"What we’re doing... is all in vain?" Nathaniel hung his head, exhaling a thick plume of smoke.

Howard nodded, his eyes full of desolation: "Yeah..."

"Why? Weren’t we promised...?" Nathaniel’s fingers, holding the cigarette, trembled violently, barely able to keep it in his mouth. He had given up so much, all in vain...

Tesla stood up, discarding the cigarette butt: "Plans never keep up with changes. I knew a plan spanning hundreds of years without a Time Machine would always run into problems."

"Can we... still change it?" Nathaniel was somewhat unwilling to give up.

Tesla shook his head, taking apart the scrapped Time Machine into pieces: "Give it up. The other side is from Kama Taiji. Our understanding of time is like an infant before the Supreme Mage."

Howard smirked bitterly, thinking that he was the most familiar with Deathstroke. He knew that once that person got involved, there was no turning the tables for them.

Even the thought of trying would be met with that black Great Sword attacking from the shadows, leaving no escape.

So even if he knew the timeline was changed, he simply didn’t have the courage to try to revert it. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

He exhaled a mouthful of smoke and stood up too: "Let’s leave it at that. The result isn’t bad. We don’t need any Human Machines, nor do we need the Celestial God. This is a victory for humanity, though I doubt whether that guy is even human..."

Nathaniel sighed, feeling dispirited, unsure if he was regretting or what: "I’ve decided to leave the Brotherhood, just to settle down and collect a salary at the SSR for retirement."

Howard frowned immediately, not because the decision was bad — he didn’t want to work in the Brotherhood anymore either.

Centuries of scheming couldn’t compare to Deathstroke’s impromptu idea. Although he didn’t know how that black-and-yellow creature managed it, obviously Da Vinci and the others took a big hit.

They might even still be in the dark, conned by Deathstroke yet still thanking him.

What future is there for such an organization?

But the problem was that he and Nathaniel knew too many secrets. Leaving wasn’t that easy; they might be silenced by their former brothers.

After pondering for a moment, Howard nodded: "I’ll join you, the Beard Brothers never separated, but we can’t rush; we must take a few years to prepare."

It’s easy to silence one person, but it’s tough to silence two top geniuses simultaneously. As long as one of them is harmed, the other will surely find a way to retaliate.

"Howard!" Nathaniel looked at him, moved, with tears glistening in his eyes.

"Sorry, I’m not into bromance." Facing a moved Nathaniel attempting to hug him, Howard ruthlessly pushed him away, his expression one of utter disdain.

Tesla saw the two as if they had decided their future, so he didn’t say much. He was also disappointed in the Holy Shield Brotherhood, but unlike Howard and Nathaniel, he wasn’t alone and had nothing holding him back.

He patted the White Dove perched on his shoulder and looked up at the azure sky: "I’m leaving, got to find my son; you two take care."

Howard understood Tesla’s intention, and they shook hands goodbye, with a final reminder: "If you work in New York, don’t mess with Deathstroke. You’ll die."

Tesla sighed, always having a bad premonition.