After thinking it over, Thea realized she had nothing to lose. She could train with this woman for a while and decide later. Besides, a female teacher would be… simpler. The martial arts she'd practiced with her father had led to far too many awkward moments. Chin up, chest out, she nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I'd like to learn from you."
"Good. Come to this address at dawn tomorrow. And take this—" Lady Shiva's expression was a touch peculiar as she handed Thea a slip of paper and a small bottle. "It'll bring the swelling down quickly." With a soft whoosh, she vanished.
Only one sentence echoed in Thea's head: "Bring the swelling down quickly."
My face is swollen? She touched her cheek. "Ow." The pain spiked, and her fingers confirmed a sizeable lump. My image is ruined. And I sounded so heroic just now—what an idiot.
She couldn't go home looking like this; Moira would have a meltdown. She found a secluded spot, dabbed the ointment on her face, and prayed for a miracle. Ten minutes later, the truth was obvious: miracles might exist, but not in that bottle. The burning throb hadn't budged.
Guess I'm crashing at Felicity's. Hopefully, Felicity wouldn't get too curious… which was, of course, impossible.
"Whoa… Thea, what happened? Did someone hurt you? Do you need medicine? What if you—" Felicity's heart was as big as ever. Seeing Thea bedraggled, clothes askew, and a massive welt on her face, she immediately spun out a dozen disaster scenarios, eyes welling with tears.
At first, Thea felt warm inside at her friend's concern. Then the guesses got wilder. Medicine for what? What do you think happened?
She tapped Felicity lightly on the forehead. "Quit it. I fell—training."
Thea had told Felicity about her martial arts; they were teammates now. Thea knew Felicity was a hacker; Felicity knew Thea was learning to fight. Mutual transparency, mutual trust.
Felicity, however, wasn't so easily fooled. She shook her head, pulled up a tablet, and—after hacking who-knows-what—brought up a parade of reference photos. "This, this, and this—that's what a fall looks like. Yours is clearly from a hit."
Busted. Thea sighed. "We were sparring. I misjudged a moment and took a light one. He got one too—I cut my teacher."
"Still dangerous…" Felicity muttered.
You haven't seen anything, Thea thought. Yao Fei used to greet Oliver with an arrow—clean through. Later, Oliver trained Roy and Barry the same way: no speeches, just 'eat my arrow.' Compared to that, Dad's methods are gentle.
They'd often discussed surprise-defense strategies. For the female heir of a major conglomerate, personal capability mattered more than high-tech gear. In the DC world, women were perceived as easy targets—by muggers, thugs, cultists, and villains. If Thea showed up in public often, her body had to be the weapon. The thigh-holstered pistol under an evening gown was an anime fantasy; in reality, short dresses didn't cover it and long gowns made it unreachable.
Felicity turned into a gentle big sister, surprising Thea with her first-aid know-how. She carefully spread ointment over the swollen areas of Thea's face—far better than Thea's clumsy attempt in the woods. Thea felt grateful. Not bad luck at all.
"Be honest… are you sure you're okay?" The tenderness vanished the moment Felicity opened her mouth; the merciless tease was back.
"You airhead, I'm tough! I could take on a hundred of you!"
"I don't believe you. Let me check!"
"Hey—easy! Hands off…"
…
Meanwhile, Malcolm staggered home, clutching his waist. He applied an old League formula—Ra's al Ghul hadn't lived eight centuries on swordsmanship alone; he'd studied almost every field to its peak. By academic standards, the Demon's Head could have earned fifty doctorates. The herbs Yao Fei used in the original timeline—curing poisons, mending wounds—came from Ra's's cultivation methods. Malcolm's current poultice was his own blend from those ancient recipes.
Bandaged and medicated, he chuckled at the night's outcome. He'd planned a tidy duel to keep his daughter hungry for growth. Instead, the ground had been painted red. Still, he felt pride. The girl hadn't held back—that was his style. He had no idea Thea's face was swollen and that she was probably sticking pins into a Malcolm-shaped doll. Misunderstandings are funny like that.
His eyes fell on a slip of paper on the table: "I accept your terms. Send payment as agreed." No signature.
He sneered, tearing it up. That money-hungry woman. A world-shaking warrior reduced to a slave of cash—ridiculous. Then he recalled how silently she'd approached him earlier. Her skill was fathomless. With Thea under her instruction, he could relax.
His daughter's situation was settled—more or less. With the wits and skill she now possessed, there weren't many who could threaten her. Perhaps… it was time to think about his son.
The thought of Tommy not knowing the truth about his affair gnawed at him. If his boy learned he'd cheated during the marriage—how would Tommy see him? Contempt, surely. Tell the truth and risk shattering the relationship? No. He couldn't.
He knew Thea's motivation well: she trained for emergencies. Malcolm controlled the underworld, but it wasn't a military machine. Idiots popped up every year—this year more than most. If a few fools decided to make a score, who would they target? A young, beautiful heiress, of course. But it wasn't impossible that someone might go after his son instead. Imagine the headlines: Crime boss's son kidnapped by clueless thugs. Mortifying. He glanced at the black bow and arrows mounted on the wall. Perhaps it was time to give his son a chance.
He checked the monitors. Since taking that cut from Thea, his luck seemed to have improved—Tommy was wobbling through the front door right now. Malcolm told the butler to send him in.
"What's up, old man—restoring my card limits?" Tommy asked, hopeful. He'd been behaving lately and dared to dream of a return to the glory days. His heart thumped.
"As my only heir, you really think it's safe to spend your days with Laurel in the Glades?" Malcolm intended to be calm, but somehow the first sentence came out too sharp. Different wavelengths again.
Tommy frowned. "Me, unsafe? I'm broke. I take the bus. Who'd be dumb enough to grab me?"
That… was not entirely wrong. Malcolm had to recalibrate. He took a breath, softened his tone. "I'll restore your allowance tomorrow. But listen to me carefully, all right?"