Chapter Text
Impressing Deathstroke is no easy feat.
When Black Mask had come in, only wanting the head of some newcomer muscling in on territory, Slade had even thought sending in these losers was overkill. Expecting a quick and easy kill, he hadn’t even stayed to watch. That had turned out to be a mistake. Slade had comeback to the dropoff point in the morning, and found no-one. He tracked down their location thanks to simple recon (running around blind). Whoever this knock-off punk was had murdered Captain Nazi, given the Hyena a heart attack, and used the Hyena to maul Count Vertigo. Not the usual gangster M.O., and no clear and easy theming either. What Deathstroke did find were Batarangs.
Now, this could mean a few things. These guys had run into Batman instead, and it was actually he who did all of that . Unlikely. The police weren’t here (yet, perhaps), and there was a dead guy on the ground. It could be that Batman and head-on-a-silver-platter had worked together to defeat the three guys the Society had sent. Far shot, that. Slade knows that Red Hood (how unoriginal) has done a lot of murder. No way Batman would let that slide, not with all of his birds having ran off or died.
So that left two more options. Red Hood did all of this and was chased off by Batman. Red Hood was doing this while being chased by Batman.
And both are pretty impressive. The Bat is hard to avoid, even on a good day.
An unknown who could stand up to Batman.
Deathstroke considers his options.
He makes up his mind.