Chapter 4572: Day of White (38)

"Joseph... Joseph..."

Joseph was shivering with cold, he heard someone calling his name. But there was no one around at all. There was only knee-deep snow and constant falling snow. He had been moving towards that tower, leaving a series of footprints behind him.

"Joseph... wake up... Joseph..."

The voice was still echoing constantly. Joseph began to gradually recall some things. It sounded like his father. This was not a good sign.

He remembered the first time he met his father: behind that smiling, caring face, the countless secrets hidden in the incomparably huge maze were like a building collapsing towards him, almost crushing him.

It was as if his favorite father had turned into another monster overnight. Joseph began to recall more. He hid in the quilt, shivering, seeing his father repairing the lawn with a lawnmower outside the window, seeing the blood seeping out of the maze of the spiritual world and dripping from his fingers, seeing chaos and death.

So, when he went upstairs to tell him a story, he screamed and hid in the quilt, refusing to come out. And the man just said: "Did you have a nightmare? Okay, I'll come to see you tomorrow morning."

Then, Joseph gradually learned not to make eye contact with people. As long as he didn't look, he didn't know anything. Facing the human heart was too ugly. Learning this from his own father was truly sad.

He began to gradually master and use this ability to catch up before his father's choices ruined his life. He became a powerful mind controller. Anyone who made eye contact with him would have their spiritual control taken away by him. No one could be an exception.

As he grew older, Joseph felt that perhaps even his father would be controlled by him. But he wouldn't do that. So he always avoided his gaze and tried to avoid contact with him as much as possible.

Today's incident was an accident. And the accidents that befell him were always not so wonderful. If it were only Slade Wilson, perhaps he could try. But if Schiller Rodriguez were added, then this trip to Egypt would probably be the biggest disaster of his life.

Accompanied by the gradual return of consciousness, Joseph slowly opened his eyes, unable to adapt to the bright light at first. But soon, a pair of blue eyes swayed in front of him.

Joseph closed his eyes, turned his head to one side, and reached out somewhat helplessly, wanting to push away the big guy in front of him. But the other party was like a wall, and Joseph couldn't push him at all. So he subconsciously said: "Slade Wilson..."

"I am your father!" He roared, "Don't call me by my full name!"

"Deathstroke!" Joseph shouted, "Stay away from me..."

The shock and sadness in those blue eyes were almost overflowing. Joseph moved his dry lips and whispered: "Don't fight for oxygen with me..."

"Uh, sorry." Deathstroke seemed to realize only then that he was a bit too close, "You..."

Joseph lowered his eyelids, looked at the hand he was using for an IV drip, and then looked up at the hanging bottle above. That should be the medicinal liquid for replenishing sugar and electrolytes. They should have thought he fainted because of heatstroke.

Joseph took a deep breath and felt his head hurt. Deathstroke leaned over again and said: "Are you okay? Why did you faint?"

Joseph just wanted to say something, but the door of the ward was pushed open, and Schiller walked in and said: "How is your son?"

"He seems to be stupid." Deathstroke said worriedly, "You are right, I don't know him well enough. He is completely different from before."

"You shouldn't say these things in front of him." Schiller said, "The doctor said he has a bit of heatstroke, fortunately it's not serious, he should be fine in a while. His two companions are very anxious, should I let them in?"

"No." Joseph suddenly said, "Sir, please leave for a moment, I have something to tell him."

This time he didn't try to look at Schiller, but Schiller looked at him, nodded, and turned to go out. Joseph looked into Deathstroke's eyes, and Deathstroke was completely unprepared.

"Uh!!!" Deathstroke let out a low groan of pain. Joseph also seemed to be drained of strength in an instant, his face became a little pale, and he frowned in pain.

"Still not working..." he whispered, looking at his father with some resentment, shook his head, and turned his head away.

"What the hell!" Deathstroke held his head. He felt his head buzzing, but this time it was in a physical sense. The moment he made eye contact with Joseph just now, it felt like he had been hit by a hammer on his head—even more painful than that. After all, his skull was much harder than an ordinary person's, and ordinary hits couldn't work. But this time it was like an eggbeater had been thrown into his head, and he felt his brain was about to be stirred apart.

He held the edge of the bed and gasped for a few breaths, looked at Joseph and said: "So you really have superpowers? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't you also not tell me that you are Deathstroke?" Joseph said weakly, "I don't want to discuss these old things with you. Mr. Wilson..."

"I am your father!!!" Deathstroke said angrily, "Why do you suddenly refuse to call me Dad?! You didn't do this even when we were arguing the most seriously!!!"

"What's wrong with you?" Joseph said, "Do you think you look like my father now? If I call you Dad in front of outsiders, what kind of relationship will they imagine us to have?"

Deathstroke was stunned. He really only reacted now: he had become younger, and now he looked only a few years older than Joseph. No one would think he was Joseph's biological father. If Joseph really called him Dad, the relationship between the two that everyone imagined might not be very healthy.

"Cough cough..." Deathstroke said, "Sorry, I forgot. I just haven't adapted yet..."

"Don't forget when Kelden and Nana come in later," Joseph said, "Also, what's wrong with that friend of yours?"

"You mean Schiller? I lost a bet to him. Not only do I owe him a favor, but I also have to help him find artifacts later. Fortunately, you are fine, so I can concentrate on work."

Joseph closed his eyes tightly, looking like "tired, destroy it". Deathstroke was still asking himself: "So when did you know?"

"Seven years old," Joseph said, "I realized I had superpowers at that time."

"Oh my god, so early." Deathstroke rubbed his forehead, "So this is why you never caused me trouble?"

Joseph seemed not to want to talk to him. Deathstroke was a little angry again, so he reached out and rubbed his hair. Joseph raised his voice and said: "Don't touch my hair, I've said it many times!"

"Unfortunately, you didn't inherit my straight hair. Curly hair looks messy." After saying that, he stood up and said, "Since there is no way to explain our relationship, I won't disturb you and your friends. Stay here honestly, I'll pick you up when I finish work."

"Don't go," Joseph said, "Come back."

Deathstroke grinned and sat back down: "You really can't leave me. Little Joseph, I know you were scared on the plane..."

Joseph looked hopeless, he said: "Don't go looking for any artifacts, especially don't go with that Schiller. He is very dangerous."

"Of course, who isn't dangerous here?"

"He will be a big trouble."

"Not necessarily bigger than me."

Joseph slammed the railing of the bed hard. Deathstroke was a little stunned. He had never seen Joseph make such a violent action before. Even when they were arguing, Joseph would at most be sarcastic when he was most angry, and never hit anything.

"Sorry, I just..."

"It's okay, you don't need to explain. I know you are in a bad mood," Deathstroke said, "Your graduation trip was ruined, you are still lying in the hospital, and you can't recognize your father..."

"It's not that kind of thing at all," Joseph said, "Can you stay away from that guy named Schiller? Break up with him now?"

"Why on earth don't you let me stay with him? Do you think I can't deal with him?"

"Of course you can't," Joseph frowned deeply, "He is not as simple as he looks. He has killed no fewer people than you."

"Oh, really? He has so many enemies?" Deathstroke raised his eyebrows and said, "I know you are a kind child and can't stand innocent people being killed. But the dead cannot be resurrected, so don't dwell on this."

The atmosphere around Joseph turned into capitalized speechlessness. He gritted his teeth and said: "You are killing for money, but he is different. He..."

"He is for revenge, I know," Deathstroke said, "But in fact, there is no difference between the two. No one is more noble than anyone else. Why distinguish between high and low for outlaws who are at large?"

Joseph seemed to have finally lost all his strength, closed his mouth and stopped talking. Deathstroke stood up again and said: "I know you are very worried about me. But if I were so easily defeated, I wouldn't have lived until today. I can imagine how shocked and sad you were when you found out I was a killer, just like I found out you were a psychic. In that case, we are even. Your mother must not want us to have any conflicts, think more for her, okay?"

After Deathstroke walked out of the ward, Schiller was waiting outside. He was talking to Joseph's two friends. The two young people seemed to like him very much, and the three of them were talking happily.

"Okay, it's about time for us to go." Deathstroke put on his mask, not letting the two young people see his face. And the two were also startled by his strange outfit, and hurriedly ran into the ward.

"Let's go, go find that damn artifact." Deathstroke looked at Schiller and said.

"So you just left him here like this?"

"I just came to ensure his safety," Deathstroke said, "The problem is, staying with me is not necessarily safer than staying alone. Someone will come to find me before long. Can't let them find out the relationship between me and Joseph, otherwise it will be trouble."

"You didn't talk to him much." Schiller said, "Since you admit you don't know him well enough, why not communicate more?"

"I'm just avoiding some things, okay? Master of mind reading?"

Schiller laughed and said: "We are going back to Cairo, you can talk about it in detail on the way."

"Then why not start now. In case I really overcome the avoidance psychology, I might not go back to Cairo with you."

"I can't help you with that," Schiller said, "And you also didn't realize that any analysis I made of you, besides adding to your troubles, has no help. But you still want to listen."

Deathstroke thought for a while, then asked somewhat puzzled: "Yeah, why?"

"Because what you are interested in is not psychology at all, but me. So you believe whatever I say."

Deathstroke was speechless.