Chapter 50: Ch.49 Determining Authenticity

Chapter 50: Ch.49 Determining Authenticity

Barry scratched his head, feeling a bit hungry, unable to focus in the dimly lit space. The darkness made him sleepy.

But he still forced himself to wake up, rubbing his face with both hands as he asked Bryce:

"You're saying Deathstroke isn't Deathstroke. What does that mean? Is it an impostor?"

"There isn't a man here who can use a gun with such skill that I'm aware of." Bryce zoomed in on the image, enlarging Deathstroke's entire body: "This person's skeletal structure is male."

After speaking, Bryce captured images of Deathstroke standing in front of the police station's pillar, the TV station's broadcasting van, and Deathstroke himself. She then measured the horizontal distance between them, creating a scale.

"The Gotham TV station's broadcasting van is a 1999 'Amazon' model made in Metropolis. The van's height is 3.5 meters. The height of the Gotham Police Station's front door is officially recorded as 6.2 meters, and due to geological reasons, it sinks by 0.01 meters every year since 1996. And Cindy Wilson's height is 1.73 meters."

After inputting all these data, the mainframe beeped, almost as if showing a big red 'X.' Bryce shrugged.

"It doesn't match. This person is 1.84 meters tall, male. Now it's not just my impression; the system also confirms that there's no one like this in Gotham."

Barry had already noticed the leftover food on the table. He scooped out some soup from the large pot with a wooden ladle and tasted it. The awful flavor sent a shiver down his spine—it tasted like thick mucus.

But he encouraged himself. He was a superhero; he couldn't be defeated by something like this. He needed nutrition, and he needed it now.

"So that means those footprints on the dinosaur's head were his, and he killed your dinosaur."

Bryce hugged her arms, wiping at the yellowish burn mark on the desk: "That's interesting because the Barbara in our world is just an ordinary high school student. She's never shown any talent. I don't know, and neither does Gordon."

Barry raised an eyebrow. It seemed he understood something: "But Deathstroke knew. He brought Barbara here with a very clear goal, to use your 'Brother Eye' system to find someone."

"Uh, my system doesn't have a name. If I had to name it, it'd be 'Sister Eye'..." Bryce glanced at the screen, which showed the previous search location. A place called Indian Hill was flashing on the map: "Is this Deathstroke from your world?"

Barry shook his head. "No, our Slade is 1.94 meters tall. He's with Aquaman in Atlantis looking for something. They don't have the ability to cross dimensions. I'm the one responsible for finding multiversal reinforcements... though it didn't go as planned."

"I know, you've mentioned it many times. Using the Speed Force to traverse worlds has unpredictability. You encountered the Time Wraiths, barely escaped with your life, and ended up in our world." Bryce pulled up information on Indian Hill, studying it closely, but a junkyard didn't reveal anything useful.

"Yes, exactly. Then I realized time had reversed a bit, but it didn't trigger the Flashpoint effect. The world is still the same. Gotham is still a mess." Barry sat on a nearby table. He tried using his speed to wipe away the yellow stains on the desk, but the tobacco stains only grew larger.

"Our worlds were different from the beginning. Even if you triggered the so-called Flashpoint, you wouldn't be able to tell... Eventually, you discovered that a world supposedly doomed still existed, and someone you thought was your enemy, like me, hadn't gone insane." Bryce's calm explanation left Barry a bit embarrassed. Fortunately, Alfred's arrival a few minutes later broke the awkward atmosphere.

"Miss Bryce, and Mr. Allen, dinner is ready. Tonight's main course is red wine beef stew, accompanied by roasted oysters and chicken rolls with celery. There's also lobster sashimi, and the main dish is European noodles, though due to time constraints, the beef might not be tender enough."

"That's already amazing. Please bring it here. I have some preparations to make, and I'm curious what this mysterious person is really after." Bryce smiled at Alfred, feeling a sense of pride. Only her butler could whip up a beef stew in such a short time.

At the same time, she was forming a general theory in her mind.

"This Deathstroke has a clear goal. He knows a lot."