The room around the two of them was suddenly very, very, lively. Even people who had written off the fights had been drawn in by the prospect of getting to see The Deathstroke in action. Side bets of all sorts were being placed fast and freely.

The crowed swelled, but the edge of the ring was never crossed. A soft, unspoken awareness that to do so would risk the ire of a Legend, or worse cause him to leave.

The extra eyes, and rowdiness, delayed the fight for an extra handful of seconds. As people jockeyed for a good spot to watch.

But all of that was secondary, or perhaps even tertiary, to Slade. His focus was solidly on the woman before him. And he was sure the same was true for her. His gaze was cold, near apathetic, with only a few stirrings of curiosity in it as he analyzed her. Picking apart the way she held herself, the way her gaze tracked his movements, the way she was preparing herself.

She was good. That much he knew for fact, he might even be willing to say she was excellent. Everything he could tell told him so. But as he settled into a simple stance, somewhere between karate and boxing, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was all she was.

It wasn’t a slight against her, exactly, but the lack of a callsign did speak to her preferred methods of operation. He had spent enough time with Wintergreen to know that being too good could be its own detriment to Spies and Spooks. 

Just one reason among many that he never bothered with that line of work too much.

But it did confirm that he had chosen the right choice for trying to get the answer. He doubted she would be honest if he just asked her. But then again, this was the more enjoy able option in the first place. So he doubted he would have bothered trying it any other way regardless.

“You know, I have a simple question for you.” He would say, his voice pitched soft and low. Cutting through to her, and her alone, as the crowed continued to build. Even as the starting timer ticked down in spite of it all. “Was it seven kicks, or eight?”

It was a warning and a taunt all in one.

One Monae had only a scant pair of moments to process. As on the tail end of his private question Jake called out to all to hear, “Aaaand GO!!!”

And with speed that seemed to fly in the face of Slade’s size, he blitzed towards her, faster by far then Pim could ever hope to move. His eye locked onto her, his smile promising pain.