Chapter 4561

Deathstroke naturally wanted to refute, but when he thought about it carefully, it seemed that was indeed the case. In fact, if he had focused on his mission, he would very likely have successfully destroyed the batch of goods by now. Even if the mission was fake and the final payment couldn't be collected, because he didn't spend much effort, just having the deposit wasn't a loss.

Or, if he hadn't been driving the car and taking Shiler around Hurghada, it wouldn't have led to Shiler, who was carsick, blowing up the leader with one shot, and the situation wouldn't have deteriorated to what it is now.

Of course, realizing this fact didn't make him have any intention of repenting. Because anyway, from beginning to end, it was impossible for anyone to pay the final payment. The commission failed from the start. It wasn't bad to run into Shiler. This is the benefit of him being a freelance mercenary: besides rigid missions, he can always run into novel fun.

Of course, now between the two of them, he is more like the fun. But Deathstroke doesn't care. His satellite phone received a message, which made him want to enter the family channel again, but fortunately, he restrained himself.

Actually, he could completely continue to harass Shiler with words as before. Deathstroke could see that Shiler's hearing had recovered, and now was a good time to talk. As for why he didn't do so, what stopped him, he was actually thinking about it too.

Then he attributed this to: Shiler indeed performed too professionally. Among all the agents he knew, he wasn't even one of the best, but the number one. So he felt a bit ashamed for not performing professionally—that is, insisting on dragging him to talk about family matters.

Mercenaries naturally also have professionalism to talk about, especially mercenaries who lean toward assassins, sometimes even paying more attention to professional quality than agents. If he fell behind in this regard, it would be easy for him to be questioned. So Deathstroke held back as much as possible.

He began to rack his brains to think about how to open his mouth from a professional perspective. But this wasn't very easy, because now is a typical waiting time, and they really have nothing to discuss.

Shiler was standing by the dining table taking apart his gun, but he took the initiative to speak: "Did you notice? You're starting to accommodate me more and more."

Deathstroke frowned, seemingly not understanding why he said that. So he recalled carefully: not to mention anything else, at least in terms of picking topics, he indeed made concessions. Otherwise, with his mental strength and physical fitness, he could have been chattering the whole time, and could have annoyed Shiler to death.

"Why?" Deathstroke asked.

"Yeah, why," Shiler repeated, observing the rifling of the firearm, and then said, "Because you realized I have something worth taking. To be precise, you discovered I am indeed a top agent. Even if it's only for professional ability, you are willing to give me a certain amount of respect."

Deathstroke seemed to understand what he was talking about, and he said: "So, as long as I let Joseph see my power and professionalism, he will respect me? But killers and agents are still different, right?"

"If you are referring to the official identity, then for you, it's actually an advantage rather than a disadvantage. Because if you aren't hired by the government, you don't have to make him feel disappointed in you and the entire country at the same time."

Deathstroke found that he was speechless. Thinking about it, killers and agents can both be called killing machines, but one is for money, and the other is working for the country. It's hard for you to say which of these two is better—especially for a teenager who still has expectations for the country, the latter might not even be as good as the former.

"And he took your money," Shiler pointed out, "so he isn't innocent either."

Deathstroke's hand holding the hilt tightened, and he said: "I can't tell him this. I mean, I can't use this to accuse him, because he had no choice, right?"

"Of course you can't. But he will think about it himself. He isn't stupid; he won't think this is the first day you've done this, and naturally, he will also think about every cent spent in the process of his growth being stained with blood."

"This will worsen the relationship between the two of us, right?"

Shiler shook his head and said: "If the worsening you mean is alienation, then no. Because resentment will also narrow the distance between two people."

"What I want is naturally not resentment."

"Then you must first accept that he resents you," Shiler checked the bullets and then said, "Not only does he not hate you now, but it can even be said that he doesn't know you. Compared to strangers, aren't enemies also considered intimate?"

Deathstroke didn't know how to answer again. He felt he was a bit of a failure, because he and Joseph were indeed more like strangers; it couldn't be called love, nor could it be called hate. But letting him hate himself first, was it still a bit of pulling up seedlings to help them grow?

"Do you really think he will hate you more?" Shiler asked again, "Why do I feel he will hate himself more? Because that money was all spent on him. He might even think you did it for him."

"Uh... really?" Deathstroke rubbed his forehead, "Really? He will think I kill for money to support his schooling?"

"He has no concept of this," Shiler said, "He doesn't know how much you earned as a killer, or what the proportion of money spent on him is. It wouldn't be strange for him to think so, right?"

Deathstroke opened his mouth, a bit embarrassed to speak, and he said: "Actually, the proportion I spend on my family isn't much. At least in the same industry, it can only be considered low to middle level. But I also have my own reasons."

"First, if I let them enter the upper class, they can't handle those things, and being unable to explain the source of funds might also bring danger. Second, my own expenses are also very high; you don't know how expensive this set of equipment is..."

Then Deathstroke began to mutter and report his accounts, obviously having accumulated grievances for a long time, and he had to spit it out. This kind of thing couldn't be told to peers, nor could it be poured out to family members; Shiler became the best target.

Deathstroke's set of equipment is indeed expensive, adding up to over a billion dollars. Just the clothing alone has three sets: lightweight tights, light armor, and heavy armor. These three sets are also incompatible with each other. For example, the lining of the light armor is also tights, but it can't be used with the heavy armor, because the material of the fabric has to be adjusted according to the weight of the outer armor.

And then there are weapons. Being a weapon master also has many disadvantages, for example, there are too many weapons to be customized. Just thermal weapons need to be prepared with several, and cold weapons don't even need to be mentioned. The most expensive one is that N-metal greatsword. The fame of N-metal doesn't need to be mentioned—the maintenance cost for this sword being scratched is an astronomical figure.

And then Deathstroke also has various safe houses all over the world, the equipment inside also needs to be purchased, and supplies need to be placed, and sometimes they need to be destroyed and moved. The money spent on this is estimated to be no less than the equipment.

Just like this, he can still take out a large sum of money to let his family maintain a decent life, and can also prepare for saving for his pension, which fully shows how capable he is of earning. The world's number one mercenary isn't for nothing.

Of course, this isn't all relying on him taking jobs. He has sponsors. Calling them sponsors is actually paying protection money. In order to ensure that they are on Deathstroke's whitelist, they give Deathstroke a large sum of money every year, and Deathstroke also guarantees not to take commissions to assassinate them. This also brought him a considerable income—this is the benefit brought by the fame of the number one mercenary.

In short, when calculating accounts, Deathstroke clearly realized that the vast majority of his money was spent on himself, and not much was given to his family. Although they lived very well, compared to Deathstroke's income level, it was far from enough.

"It's not that he sees how powerful you are, and he can realize how much you can earn," Shiler pointed out, "Don't you think killing for money sounds unreliable?"

"Where is it unreliable?" Deathstroke couldn't help but ask.

"You should be using the deposit and final payment model, right? What if someone doesn't pay you the final payment?"

"Of course I will find a way to chase it back myself."

"Of course some can be chased back, but some can't, right? Just like this time, the middleman also failed. What are you going to do?"

"This kind of thing doesn't happen often," Deathstroke shook his head and said, "This matter was my own mistake. Returning to youth indeed made me a bit too excited, to the point of losing caution."

"But outsiders don't know. In the eyes of outsiders, if a person can be bad enough to hire a killer, why can't they renege on the debt? Most killers do dirty and tiring work, right?"

"That's true," Deathstroke said, "This is an industry where only the tip of the pyramid can be full, and the rest are mostly unranked cleaners and newcomers who can't live for a year."

"That's it," Shiler said, "People are more willing to believe that doing this line of work is mostly forced into it. You are naturally the same, right?"

"Actually, I can really be considered one," Deathstroke thought for a moment and said, "When I first came out to work alone, although I was also annoyed by the nagging of that bunch of people, it was more because of the side effects brought by the human experimentation I accepted. That would make me very violent, and I couldn't control myself once I saw blood. Of course, it's fine now."

"So why on earth don't you tell him?" Shiler said, "I can be sure that with your situation, if you confessed when he was sensible, he wouldn't blame you. You insisted on keeping it from him, and now you've kept it until something happened, right?"

"Then what can I do?" Deathstroke became a bit anxious, "I'm also a father for the first time, and there's no good example for me to learn from. How do I know what is right to do?"

"Keep this mindset," Shiler said, "You should tell him this. He will understand you."

"Really?"

"Objectively speaking, I think you are doing quite well as a father," Shiler said very calmly, "First, you provided them with ample material conditions, so they don't have to worry about money. Second, being home less can also be considered a benefit, otherwise, you can't be sure if his childhood would be spent under your excessive authority, to the point of being traumatized by your control. Finally, you are already in this line of work, and your wife and children can still live for such a long time, which fully shows that you have tried your best to protect them. Additional condition, you can even keep it from your son—this level is far beyond ordinary people."

Deathstroke listened and doubted his life a bit. Reason told him that what Shiler said actually had no problems: reaching this level, although it couldn't be called a good father, it could reach the passing line. But he always felt something was wrong.

After thinking for a while, Deathstroke discovered that the awkward feeling might come from the "low moral sense" in Shiler's attitude. It was as if he was saying "you are still too kind to be so conflicted," which proves that he is even less socially disciplined than himself, the killer. To be precise, it is a kind of natural indifference: using his own standards that are not bound by morality as a yardstick, and not holding any expectations for others. As long as the baseline is drawn low enough, everyone can be a good person.

However, such a person who seems almost unable to cover up his natural defects is always looking at problems from the perspective of an ordinary person, instead of being like those psychopaths, whose heads are full of crazy ideas whenever something is mentioned. Deathstroke thought, this contradiction is precisely the charm of it, and it is also the main reason why others cannot stop being curious about him.