CHAPTER 85

Robin picked up the blue short staff that had saved him from the ground and forced an awkward smile.

"No, it can't be him..."

At that moment, a cheerful voice came from behind Robin.

"Hey! Robin, long time no see. Are you getting used to living at Titans Tower?"

A young man, about 5'8" tall, dressed in a black bodysuit with a blue Nightwing emblem on his chest, appeared before him.

In his left hand, he held a blue short staff, while his right hand was empty—clearly, he had thrown the short staff earlier.

The man's face was concealed by a mask that covered only his eyes, much like Robin's.

"Nightwing," Robin stated with an expressionless face, revealing the newcomer's identity. He tossed the retrieved short staff to Nightwing, who caught it neatly.

The founder of the Teen Titans, Batman's original Robin, Blüdhaven's vigilante Nightwing—Richard Grayson! And to those who knew him well, he was often called—

"Dick!"

Several meters away, Deathstroke stared at Nightwing, his mouth slowly opening.

"Slade, you still haven't given up opposing the Titans? We former Titans have moved on. The feud between Jericho and Grant shouldn't involve these kids!" Nightwing's face bore a stern expression as he spoke to Deathstroke.

"Also, when did our relationship become friendly enough for you to call me 'Dick'?"

"Opposing the Titans? No!" Deathstroke exclaimed sternly. "I'm helping the Titans! I want these kids to stop endangering their lives!"

"The existence of the Teen Titans is a mistake, and I'm here to rectify it!"

"If I need to prove this point by killing one or all of them... then I'll do it, Dick."

"Wait a minute!"

Robin's brow furrowed. "He knows your name? You actually let Deathstroke know your real identity!"

"In fact, I don't just know Nightwing's identity, I also know yours, Robin," Deathstroke replied, his gaze fixed on Robin, his voice low.

Robin's pupils contracted, and he turned his gaze toward Nightwing.

"Be careful!"

Just as he turned, Robin realized Nightwing was already rushing toward him. At the same time, both of Nightwing's hands held the blue short staff aloft.

Thunk!

Nightwing's short staff clashed with Deathstroke's katana in mid-air, producing a metallic impact.

Why could Nightwing's weapon clash with Deathstroke's and withstand it, while Robin's bo staff could be so easily cut through? Moreover, Robin's bo staff was made from a material not inferior to Nightwing's weapon.

The answer was simple: Nightwing's short staff didn't collide with the blade of the katana; instead, it met the side of the blade!

Deathstroke's equipment was predominantly crafted from a material called "promethium," which possessed a hardness far exceeding that of diamonds and an energy-absorbing property beyond normal comprehension.

Against the promethium katana, most alloys were as fragile as paper, making it an incredibly dangerous weapon.

With ample experience in battling Deathstroke, Nightwing was well aware of the sharpness of his old rival's weapon. He consciously avoided the blade.

"Don't believe Deathstroke's words. He knows my identity due to past events, but he doesn't know who you are," Nightwing explained earnestly.

So it turns out Deathstroke deliberately claimed to know Robin's identity, aiming to provoke him and then launch a surprise attack.

"Truly despicable tactics!"

Robin's reaction was swift, and he immediately launched a counterattack against Deathstroke.

Since both of his bo staffs had broken, he had to pick up the broken ends and strike at Deathstroke's weak points.

Seeing his sneak attack fail, Deathstroke didn't show frustration. He quickly distanced himself, simultaneously raising the other hand holding the shotgun and firing a shot at Nightwing and Robin.

Both Nightwing and Robin had anticipated this move. They each dodged to the left and right, evading the shotgun's attack range.

"As long as the goal is achieved, whether the means are despicable doesn't matter."

Deathstroke's composure remained unchanged. The addition of one more opponent didn't make him feel pressured.

Three individuals, one against two, all mutually cautious, surrounded by an indescribable tense atmosphere.

"Nightwing, why did you come here?"

Robin's gaze was fixed on Deathstroke, but his question was directed at Nightwing.

"Colonel Trevor believed you might need some help, so he asked me to come and take a look."

Nightwing's eyes were equally locked onto Deathstroke as he replied.

"So, you're the person Trevor mentioned."

Robin suddenly realized, relieved that it wasn't Batman who sent Nightwing.

"Slade, your skills seem to have slowed down quite a bit from before. Getting old, aren't you?"

Nightwing loudly taunted Deathstroke.

"Provoking me won't work, Dick."

Deathstroke's expression remained neutral.

"Don't call me 'Dick'!"

Nightwing's expression darkened. "We're definitely not friends!"

"Hmhmhm..."

As soon as his words fell, Deathstroke suddenly chuckled softly.

"Not friends? No, you're wrong! All of you are wrong!"

"I know this sounds unbelievable, but you must understand that everything I've done is for the good of those kids. I know what death feels like..."

Suddenly, Deathstroke sheathed his katana back and reached for his helmet.

"Deep down, I'm still your friend, Dick!"

In an instant, Deathstroke removed his helmet, revealing the face of a middle-aged man, with white hair, beard, and even eyebrows showing the signs of age.

He wore an eyepatch over his right eye, and in the center of his left eye's pupil, a green halo suddenly lit up.

This familiar appearance left Nightwing visibly shocked, "Could it be that you are—!"

"Yes, you're right—I am Jericho!"

At the same time, above the surface of the sea,

The Beast Boy, transformed into a giant shark, was locked in combat with the demon.

Initially, his size had given him an advantage, but after biting the demon several times, the situation had turned against him.

The demon leaped onto the Beast Boy's back, gripping his tail with just its legs, then relentlessly pounded the Beast Boy's back.

"Ah! I will make you pay for your actions!"

In pain, the Beast Boy couldn't help but scream, then suddenly he transformed, his entire body softening.

A massive cephalopod emerged on the surface, almost twenty meters long, with eight tentacles, each sporting sharp-barbed suckers on the inside.

The Beast Boy had become a green giant octopus.

In the blink of an eye, ten tentacles firmly entangled the demon, binding its entire body.

Even though the Beast Boy wasn't known for his intelligence, after repeatedly defeating the demon only to have it come back stronger each time, even the simplest-minded person would know what to do now.

"Don't you dare move again!"

The giant octopus formed by the Beast Boy tightly restrained the enemy, preventing any movement.

The situation in the sky was similar – if you can't kill your enemy, you have to control them. However, Superboy and Starfire took a more direct approach, each one holding a demon.

Superboy's strength was well-known; a mere demon couldn't even make his hand shake.

Starfire's strength wasn't as impressive, but still enough to subdue the demon.

°°°

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