The Death Knell

"It's such a bustling place." On a rooftop, Bobo talked to Deathstroke, who was wearing the same Batman pose: "Did you notice? There are a lot of things like cameras on the streets in the city."

"I see, cameras all over the city are the most annoying sight for criminals, aren't they?" Su Ming answered him with a smile, while paying attention to the pedestrians on the street: "Although if it is in Gotham, any surveillance will not be able to prevent crime. ”

People still dress as they did in the 1950s, including women’s skirts and hairstyles, as if time has been suspended forever.

Hundreds of years have passed, but the aesthetics have not changed at all. It is still popular among them to use a tong to cool down the hair to create big wavy curls, and then wrap a handkerchief around the head.

If Harley walked down the street dressed like this, her identity would be exposed immediately.

The men's dressing was not much better. They still wore long trench coats, suits, and fedoras. The aesthetics of that era were actually not much different from those of the Prohibition era.

Everything in the city is standardized, as if it has been measured with a ruler. All the streets are in tic-tac-toe grids, but people don't seem very depressed, and instead seem to be in a good mood.

Also, since we know that all the compatriots in the outside world are dead and only they survive underground, human beings have a strange characteristic. When they know that the lives of their own kind are worse than their own, their own bleak life seems to be less painful.

Why do you say they actually have a bad life? Because the underground is not above ground after all, the industries that can be developed in such a place are very limited, and the involution alone is enough to make many people uncomfortable.

Not to mention that if Deathstroke came to rule this underground city, he would definitely choose to raise the entry threshold for other industries, and then squeeze the human resources other than those necessary for survival into the industries he wanted them to work in.

This is a conventional means of manipulating a society behind the scenes, regulated through the market and economy.

"Wait for me, I'll go down and get you some clothes."

Su Ming gave an explanation to several people, then turned around and recreated the look he wore at Marvel in the 1930s, because "The Godfather" will never go out of style.

He went downstairs invisibly and appeared in the blind spot of the surveillance. He looked like a local resident, with a happy smile on his face, searching for the location of the clothing store along the street.

When passing by the automatic newsstand, he asked Hangsha to stab the instrument secretly, and got a few coins and a copy of today's newspaper from it.

He was not the only one standing on the street reading the newspaper, so it certainly didn't seem that strange.

The coins were made of copper and were engraved with the denomination and the hooded image of the Prophet.

The news in newspapers is very ordinary. In addition to a large number of advertisements, it is just bits and pieces of tidbits.

Well, now you can at least know that there are no superheroes to get in the way, and of course there are no supervillains, which is a good thing.

When a city is about the same size as the whole of Australia, many problems can be covered up. At least there are no negative reports in the news. At most, it means that the gas pipeline on that road in which district has exploded again.

Folding the newspaper and tucking it under his arm, Deathstroke pushed the door open and walked into a clothing store, at least that's what the sign hanging on the door frame said.

The shop was filled with cloth and ready-made clothes. A tailor shop owner wearing round glasses greeted him and spoke in a standard London accent:

"Sir, what service can I provide you?"

With this opening, Death Knell seemed to see the wave of the times coming towards him, and the sun that never set in the Empire was slowly sinking into the sea...

"I want some sets of clothes, but I won't pay you, sir. I'll give you ancient relics in exchange."

Su Ming kept a gentleman's smile and responded with a standard London accent. At the same time, he took out a lighter from his pocket and placed it gently on the counter.

It's just an ordinary grinding wheel lighter. I forgot where I picked it up during World War II. It seems to have belonged to a German soldier? There was still half a pack of cigarettes.

The cigarette was finished, but Su Ming didn't throw away the lighter, even though it wouldn't be used much in the future.

The shop owner adjusted his glasses and didn't say whether it was OK or not, but said that he would leave temporarily and ask someone to evaluate it.

This is understandable, but it doesn’t matter whoever you invite. This is a genuine World War II product. If anyone dares to say it is fake, be that unruly person... Deathstroke can also use another free method. Come get the clothes and achieve the Perfect Infiltration achievement.

Facts have proved that Americans of American descent in the 1950s were relatively simple. The store owner quickly invited professionals. After appraising the lighter and confirming that it was still usable, he gave a rather high price.

In other words, Deathstroke used a lighter he picked up back then to exchange for several sets of high-end clothes, and the tailor shop owner even gave him a lot of money.

Obviously, they also made some money. When Su Ming was chatting with the store owner and appraiser while choosing clothes, he learned that the prophet encouraged anyone to join the expedition team to explore the relics on the ground and find the lost history.

As long as someone can return to the team smoothly, those things will be purchased at a high price, allowing those who venture out to live a long and good life.

The prophet invented an advanced vehicle that can dig forward at high speed in snowdrifts without walking on the upper surface of the snow, and avoid being surrounded by zombies as much as possible.

But even so, the casualty rate in this line of work is still high. When working under the snow, an avalanche will kill people, let alone excavating the ruins of the city.

After getting a general understanding of the situation, Su Ming secretly returned to everyone and began to make a pair of stilts for Bobo.

"Technology has advanced to the year 2555, but this society has stopped in 1950, whether it is culture or behavior, in all aspects." Su Ming hammered a nail on the stick and gestured with Bobo's size: "They worship The prophet is not fanatical, but appears to be quite rational."

Harley put on her coat and high heels, put her pink and blue ponytails on her head, wrapped them with a handkerchief, and said with the hairpin in her mouth:

"Anyway, let's go find this person first. Have you found out where the prophet's home is?"

"I asked a few circumstantial questions, but the two old men just laughed and said nothing, as if they were being asked questions by adults, thinking it was a joke."

Su Ming recalled what happened in the tailor shop and felt a little strange. Everyone seemed to know the prophet's residence, but there was no visible mark pointing there.

There are many high-rise buildings in the city, but there is nothing related to the prophet.

"So I think the orangutan should not be distracted by the prophet first. We should keep an eye on the clues about soul filling." Bobo jumped on the stilts made by Deathstroke and skillfully put them on the human's Clothes and pants, after all, he was born in a circus: "Wherever there are soul fluctuations or space fragmentation, we will look for them."

If you want to throw the weapons produced here to the Multiversal 1 side, whether it is through technology or magic, space fragmentation will inevitably occur, unless you use a bridge-building method like Sepurk.

"This is a way. Anyway, the purpose is just to stop the heavy snow on Earth 0. The identity of this prophet is not that important."

Raven gave her own opinion, but it didn't matter what she said, it still depended on Deathstroke's decision.

Su Ming took out a cigarette and lit it, watching the city under the sun exhale smoke. The artificial sun looked like a rolling white fireball from the ground.

It radiates light without much heat.

"Let's check the soul thing first, Raven, and try the séance ritual." Deathstroke made a decision. The so-called prophet issue can be put on hold. The heavy snow and monster invasion must be stopped first.

"But I don't have a medium." Raven's fingers intertwined.

"Here you go." Deathstroke handed her a pen like magic: "Do you remember the zombie whose head I chopped off? This is his thing."

Bobo's eyes suddenly became sharp, and he complained: "Has it become instinctive to search for corpses? How much influence has your career as a mercenary left on you?"

"Don't worry about those details. If a gold pen dropped in the snow on the road, you would pick it up if you saw it. What's wrong with picking it up from other people's corpses? Let's start Raven, don't care what the orangutan says."

Su Ming stretched out his fingers to pinch Bobo's mouth, then placed him on stilts and fixed him, with his two empty sleeves in a cross-chest pose, looking really like a thug wearing sunglasses.