The circus performers were still approaching. The earlier explosion had also killed some of their people, but they didn't care at all; instead, they laughed even more joyfully.
They were like cars or other internal combustion engines, except their fuel was blood.
Other people's blood, or their own, driving the war chariot named Madness.
Su Ming shook his head, the helmet still had debris and garbage from earlier, and now the hallway was densely packed with laughing Jokers, rushing forward with various twisted and exaggerated movements.
"There are about forty of them, equipped with light firearms and melee weapons. It seems their explosives are used up..." He peeked out, and the battlefield details appeared in his mind like a photograph — the position of each enemy, their movement direction, speed, and equipment, all remembered clearly. Almost simultaneously, a plan emerged in his mind.
He took a smoke bomb from his uniform, tossed it out with a swing of his hand, and immediately followed by vaulting out of cover.
The smoke obscured everything, all around was white, and only the hallway lights cast chaotic black shadows of the people, causing immediate chaos among the Joker Gang.
They couldn't see the walls or the people around them, crashing and stumbling into each other, causing bizarre screams and cursing.
This was Su Ming's chance. He quickly pulled a shotgun from his back and also charged into the smoke.
Cindy was outside the window behind him, so besides himself, everyone in the smoke was an enemy.
No longer burdened by doubt, he didn't hesitate, and with muffled gunshots, bursts of fire dyed the pale smoke red.
....
"Not bad, 42 people in 6 seconds, no wonder you're me from another world."
Cindy jumped in through the window, sat on the sill, and posed as if checking the time, though she didn't really need to; her super brain kept perfect track of every passing second.
At that moment, Su Ming was reloading the shotgun, looking much bloodier than before, with visceral remains and blood splattered all over him, a common result in close combat.
Corpses were everywhere; none of those maniacs survived, either with heads blown out or their guts split open. In such a narrow space, the shotgun proved immensely effective, taking out several with a single trigger pull.
"Instead of counting over there, why not start shooting early and give me a hand?" Su Ming re-slung his gun, bent down, and picked up a colorful rag to wipe off the blood on him.
"Just some small fry, both of us attacking would be a waste of manpower," Cindy said, without a hint of sincerity, and casually headed upstairs.
"At least you could give me a cigarette after it's all over or ask how I'm doing."
Su Ming reluctantly followed, having taken his first human blood shower, feeling inexplicably joyous inside. He wanted to ask her if she ever felt the same.
"Alright, since we're teammates now, it's always troublesome with you guys. How are you?"
However, Cindy really did take out a cigar and tossed it to him, sounding like she was humoring a child.
"I'm fine, thanks a lot!" Su Ming said, taking the cigar and stuffing it into his cigarette case, feeling that Cindy had some gender prejudice: "Except for the unknown brain matter that went down my neck, making my chest all sticky, I'm great."
"Heh..." Cindy didn't look back, making a mocking sound: "You're just like other men, always so vain and clean freaks. I thought your world was a patriarchy."
Su Ming shrugged, it's not about being clean, right?
"A patriarchal society? Sure, but not everyone makes a habit of bathing in blood... though I find I like the sight of flesh and blood. What about you?"
Cindy, holding her gun, continued upstairs. The fourth floor was now eerily quiet. While Su Ming was busy in combat earlier, she'd been on alert for any moves from the fourth floor to prevent a surprise attack from below.
"We're technically the same person from different worlds. I don't need to explain parallel world theory to you, do I? Despite minor differences, what you like, I like."
Cindy couldn't understand why her counterpart would ask such a question, as enjoying warm blood and watching others die wasn't a big deal to her. That's just how people lived in Gotham.
"So how do you handle this bloodthirsty desire?" Su Ming could accept killing but didn't want to kill for killing's sake.
Mindless killing would make him a beast, no longer human.
"Once you meet Harley, you can ask her. She's a renowned psychologist in Gotham City, well, before she went mad." Cindy, head held high, slowly sidestepped up the stairs. The fourth floor had a similar architecture: "But for me, compared to red blood, I prefer green things."
Saying this, she held out her hand, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together in front of Su Ming.
Well, in psychological terms, this is called displacement; her craving for blood shifted to money. That might be why in every parallel world, Deathstroke chooses to be a mercenary and assassin.
Doing this line of work lets you taste blood and make money quickly, a perfect two-in-one.
Su Ming came to find Harley for information on the Bat, not for therapy. Besides, getting treated by Harley would probably drive him crazier.