The agent followed the dock leading inward and arrived in front of the sea bird. His gaze fell on the abdomen of the King of Seagulls. Deathstroke drew his sword, and blood stained the sea water red.
"It seems kind of... weak?" the agent squinted his eyes.
"Indeed, not as strong as imagined," Deathstroke said. "Logically, such a large creature, getting stabbed with a sword or shot, would be like a human being pricked by a hair; it shouldn't fall so quickly."
"There's something inside its stomach." The agent looked at the abdomen of the King of Seagulls.
Deathstroke said to the agent, "Cut it open and take a look."
Deathstroke grinned. Performing a dissection on such a large sea bird might be a bit difficult. Not to mention whether it can be cut open, even where to start is a problem. Where are a bird's digestive organs?
Deathstroke hesitated for a moment but still jumped on top of the King of Seagulls. Though he had never dissected a seagull, he had dissected quite a few turkeys. He measured a bit and chose a place to cut. Luckily, he cut open the stomach in one stroke.
As soon as he made the incision, Deathstroke grunted. He staggered a few steps and almost fell into the water, but fortunately, the agent also jumped up and held him steady.
"No, don't look," Deathstroke said, "there is something inside..."
Deathstroke shook his head, appearing somewhat dazed. But quickly, Charles' phantom appeared in his vision, and his chaotic thoughts gradually calmed down.
"Looks like it ate something it shouldn't have," the agent said. He closed his eyes, didn't look, and took out Diana's blessing, pushing the gun muzzle into the incision. With a "bang," countless forbidden whispers and screams exploded by their ears, and they both fell into the water.
The agent's eardrum was bleeding, and Deathstroke's head was buzzing. As they swam towards the water's edge, Deathstroke said, "Let's not do this anymore; I don't have the slightest resistance..."
The agent also felt a headache. There must be some mystical stuff in the stomach of the King of Seagulls, and they lacked the means to deal with it; this wouldn't do.
"Constantine is nearby," Charles said, "I've already notified him."
Soon, Constantine and Bishop appeared through the fog. Upon seeing the giant seabird lying on the water, Constantine frowned.
"It's not doing well," Constantine said, "polluted by something, it's been struggling. Luckily, it's a beast and can't comprehend too profound things; otherwise, it would have gone mad."
"Can you think of a way to dispel it?" the agent asked him.
"I can," Constantine hesitated for a moment, then said, "but not in the water, because we can't light a fire here. Think of a way to get it onto land, and I can perform an exorcism."
That left them in a bit of a quandary. Such a massive beast, getting it ashore would be a huge effort. But the agent still decided to give it a shot. He asked Charles, "Where's Polaris?"
"They're battling the boss in the South District, can't make it over for now. But Pamela and Tim are in the East District; I've already called them."
Soon, Pamela and Tim arrived. Seeing the enormous seagull, Tim exclaimed in surprise, "Why is Bopa here too?"
"What?"
"Bopa, it's its name." Tim pointed to the King of Seagulls and said, "In Gotham's local myths, it's the Sea God's mount and also selects sacrifices for the Sea God..."
"The Sea God might not want Gotham's sacrifices," Bishop said.
"Can you get it ashore?" The agent looked at Pamela.
"No problem. But do you want to save it?"
"I think it can be tamed," the agent said frankly. "It's worth a try."
Pamela nodded. She pointed forward, and countless vines broke through the soil, first grabbing the neck of the King of Seagulls, then the base of its wings, slowly pulling it toward the shore.
Nearing the shore was a bit challenging. But fortunately, birds are naturally lighter in weight, and even this large, their weight doesn't compare to beasts of similar size. More and more vines stretched from the ground, even lifting the sea bird directly and slowly placing it onto a small sandy beach by the dock.
Constantine was also ready. Besides the old seal, the agent had given him the Bone Flute. They gathered some firewood near the dock and piled them into a bonfire. Constantine took a piece of charcoal, murmured something, closed his eyes, and threw the charcoal into the incision in the King of Seagulls' abdomen.
Then he blew the Bone Flute. A hollow and distant sound echoed in everyone's ears. The King of Seagulls flapped abruptly, emitting a painful wail. Black liquid flowed from its abdomen, crawling towards the ocean as if alive.
Immediately, a sea urchin with countless black tentacles crawled out of its stomach, making everyone's scalp tingle. But after this thing left the body, the King of Seagulls' condition visibly improved.
Pamela waved her hand, and small vines like sutures sewed up the King of Seagulls' abdominal wound. Its heart still had damage, but it seemed much better.
Charles helped sort out the King of Seagulls' mind, then said, "It ate something, felt stomach pains, dizziness, some disorientation. But it's been resisting..."
"It has some Faith Power in its body," Constantine said, "which helps resist the pollution itself."
"Seems like the Sea God was right," Tim said. "But I think it's even more likely that Gotham's local pollution is not willing to relinquish its territory so easily."
This explanation was more accepted by everyone. After all, before thinking about why the King of Seagulls was polluted, everyone needed to consider why this guy even existed. How did a seagull grow so large? It can't really be from eating too many fries, can it?
The agent seemed to have a thought, but he still walked to the front of the King of Seagulls' head. The redness in the eyes of the sea bird faded a bit. The agent cautiously patted its head, and Brainiac suddenly popped up a prompt.
"Mount taming task begins: Investigate the truth of Bopa's pollution. Upon success, it can be reclaimed as a mount, included in your terminal, and deployed at will."
Everyone's eyes widened. This thing can really be tamed, and even stored in a terminal to be taken out anytime. Wouldn't this be an unbeatable mount then?
In any game, flying mounts are extremely rare, often only obtainable late in the game. Because once you can fly, ground monsters become irrelevant, possibly skipping many meticulously designed processes. Many game developers don't want their hard work to be wasted like that, so early on, they provide nothing that can fly, forcing you to push through from the ground honestly.
But come to think of it, these large-map games without fast teleportation are somewhat torturous. Just like them not being able to quickly transfer between several bases right now, even with a car, the speed isn't that fast, wasting a lot of time running around, making the game experience poor.
But having a flying mount changes things, at least there's no need to fight monsters while running, or worry about taking a wrong path and crashing into high-level monsters they're no match for. The King of Seagulls is large enough that a few people can sit on its back, solving the issue of long map traversing times. Brainiac knows how to cater to players' game experiences.
Constantine circled the King of Seagulls and then precisely administered a Healing Jutsu to its heart, improving its condition even more. However, due to injured wings, it still couldn't fly.
"I'll go investigate," Constantine said. "You guys find something for it to eat."
Constantine and Bishop left. The few people looked at each other.
"What do seagulls eat? Fries?"
"Human industrial food should be okay, right?"
"But we don't have much industrial food either, Little Pa. Have your plants grown yet?"
"No. But we did bring back some from the lab, although seagulls probably don't eat vegetables."
"Then why can it eat fries?"
"Forget the fries, find it some fish."
Everyone turned to look at the sea. It's well known that Gotham's fish aren't easy to deal with. As strong as the King of Seagulls is, it hasn't avoided getting slapped by fish in the sea, not to mention now when we don't know what's down there. Going fishing now might turn into fish playing games next.
"There are quite a few restaurants at the pier," Tim said, stroking his chin. "The kitchens should have some food reserves, so let's each go find something."
With current resources, this was the best plan. They scattered to find food in nearby restaurants but left two people behind to watch over the King of Seagulls. Tim and Pamela's luck was good; they quickly found some stock in a restaurant — frozen burger buns.
These things certainly won't taste good, but right now, the safest food in the East District are these industrial ones. Anything fresher, even just sausages, might already be contaminated.
Carbs can quickly replenish energy. They poured these burger buns into the mouth of the King of Seagulls. Soon, the King of Seagulls could barely stand up, using its sharp beak to groom its feathers.
Pamela and Tim looked up at this giant sea bird.
"I've never seen it up this close," Tim said. "It always flies so high, even those professional bird watchers need to stakeout for days to catch a glimpse."
"I have to admit, God is a good painter," Pamela said. "The animals and plants on this planet are stunningly beautiful. Even magnified dozens of times, the details stand up to scrutiny."
"Birds are a miracle in the history of evolution," Tim said. "It's a pity that Brainiac implements animal protection laws so strongly, no one in the real world can get this close, or I'd love to fly a lap on it."
"Don't even think about it," Brainiac spoke up in timely fashion, "Even if I don't catch you, those bird-watching enthusiasts will sue you."
Suddenly, the King of Seagulls let out a cry. Brainiac's system prompt appeared, transforming into a beam and getting absorbed into Tim's personal terminal.
"Wow, it picked you." Brainiac's tone was still calm, "Of course, it might also be because you just want to ride it, while everyone else wants to cook it."
Soon, Constantine and Bishop returned to the beach. Seeing the giant sea bird's figure disappear, he knew the mission was complete. The agent looked at him and asked, "What did you find out?"
"Some kind of pollution is spreading here," Constantine said, sharing what he found on the other side of the pier. "It started with humans, then plants and animals. This bird probably ate a contaminated person, almost getting polluted itself. But its resistance is stronger than usual, which stopped it from immediately turning into a monster."
"What kind of pollution?" the agent asked.
"Some kind of black, living substance," Constantine paused and said, "similar to that of the Drowned, but not exactly the same. It transforms people into monsters with spiritual pollution abilities."
"Where is it spreading from?"
"Not clear yet," Constantine said, "but there must be a source. We have to investigate where this thing erupted from to expel it; violence and slaughter won't solve this."