Kryptonian: Man of Steel

Spending 100 million to kill one person is probably crazy!

But today, Deadshot felt that even if there were 100 million people, no one could kill the man in front of him.

Deadshot felt the chill on Luther's body, and his heart tightened.

He knew that he could not offend this man, otherwise the consequences would be disastrous.

So, he quickly explained: "Really, I really don't know who the employer is. I just saw the mission information on the killer network, and then accepted the order to execute it."

Luther was silent for a while, seeming to think about whether Deadshot's words were credible.

Then, he said calmly: "Okay, I believe you. But if you dare to lie to me, you will bear the consequences."

Deadshot breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he was safe for the time being. However, he also knew that he owed Luther an astronomical ransom and might face Luther's revenge.

"Next, take Deathstroke away. You will be responsible for interrogating Deathstroke. One-tenth of it will be your commission."

Luther said calmly to Deadshot, without a trace of ripples in his voice, as if he was just describing a trivial matter.

When Deadshot heard Luther's words, a glint suddenly flashed in his eyes.

For him, this deal was like pie in the sky.

Not only would he get a hefty commission, but he would also have the opportunity to squeeze even more money out of Deathstroke. For a person like him who lives by evil, this kind of thing that kills two birds with one stone is naturally what he wants.

He had long heard of Deathstroke, the number one mercenary, and knew that he must have a lot of wealth in his hands.

Now, Luther actually handed him this hot potato and promised to give him one-tenth of the commission. This was undoubtedly a huge temptation for him.

He can't wait to get started on his "job" of squeezing as much profit as possible out of Deathstroke.

"No problem, leave it to me. I'm a professional in this area!"

Deadshot said, patting his chest, his eyes flashing with excitement. He seemed to have seen the beautiful picture of extracting benefits from Deathstroke, and he couldn't help but feel a strong expectation in his heart.

Luther nodded, indicating that Deadshot could take action.

He didn't say much because he knew that Deadshot was a smart and cunning person and didn't need too many reminders and explanations from him.

Deadshot walked up to Deathstroke and looked at his twisted and painful face, feeling a surge of joy in his heart.

He likes this profession and the feeling of controlling other people's lives and deaths. Now, he wants to take this feeling to the extreme and squeeze the maximum benefit from Deathstroke.

He skillfully untied the rope from Deathstroke, then carried him on his shoulders and took him to a remote place. This place is deserted, with only some dilapidated buildings and abandoned vehicles, making it an excellent place for torture.

Deadshot threw Deathstroke to the ground and began to tie him up.

Deathstroke was now unconscious and had no idea what was about to happen. His face was pale, and there was still blood on the corner of his mouth, making him look extremely embarrassed.

Deathstroke looked at Deathstroke's appearance and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in his heart.

He knelt down, patted Deathstroke's cheek with his hand, and then said: "Deathstroke, I didn't expect you to have this day, right? Don't worry, I will entertain you well and let you taste what it means to live worse than death!"

After speaking, he stood up and began to prepare the tools for torture.

He has a set of professional torture techniques and knows how to make people reveal secrets in severe pain.

And for tough guys like Deathstroke, he has a unique way of dealing with them.

As time passed, Deathstroke began to wake up.

He felt excruciating pain all over his body, as if countless insects were gnawing at his flesh. He opened his eyes and saw the ferocious and cruel face of Death Shooter.

"You...what do you want to do?"

Deathstroke asked with difficulty, his voice hoarse and weak.

"What are you doing? Of course I'm going to torture you!"

Deadshot sneered and said.

"Tell me, what is your bank account? What is your password? As long as you are willing to tell me, I will let you go."

When Deathstroke heard this, a trace of anger flashed in his eyes.

As the number one mercenary, he has his own principles and bottom line.

"Hmph, did you think I would tell you?"

Deathstroke sneered and said, that is all his net worth.

Deadshot frowned when he heard this.

He didn't expect Deathstroke to be so harsh, which surprised him. However, he did not give up. Instead, he became even more determined to extract information from Deathstroke.

"Okay, since you won't tell me, then I'll let you try my methods!"

Deadshot said, and began to torture Deathstroke.

He first twisted Deathstroke's arm hard, causing him to scream in pain.

Then, he used a sharp blade to make cuts on Deathstroke's body, and blood suddenly poured out.

Deathstroke struggled and groaned in agony.

But he still refuses to disclose his bank account, as if he wants money or his life.

Deadshot is not in a hurry, he has plenty of time and patience. He believed that under his own control, Deathstroke would eventually succumb.

He continued to use various methods to torture Deathstroke.

Deathstroke fainted again and again in severe pain, but was awakened each time by Deadshot pouring cold water on him. His body was bruised and bruised, but his spirit remained strong and unyielding.

In this process, Luther did not intervene.

He stood at the door of the warehouse, quietly observing all this. There was no expression on his face, as if he was just enjoying a performance that had nothing to do with him.

He knew that Deadshot was a professional torturer with rich experience and methods. He believed that Deadshot would be able to extract more information from Deathstroke.

Moreover, he was also happy to see the notorious guy Deathstroke suffer such cruel torture.

Time passed little by little, and night gradually fell.

In this remote place, only a dim light shines on the figures of Deadshot and Deathstroke.

Deathstroke was already dying, his face was as pale as paper, and his eyes became empty and lifeless. His body had been tortured into shape, but his mouth was still tightly closed, refusing to reveal any information.

Looking at Deathstroke's appearance, Deadshot couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration in his heart.

He didn't expect that he would be helpless in front of this tough guy.

"It's okay, it's just the first day."

Deadshot put the drip on Deathstroke, and then said coldly.