The Red Ghoul

ARC II: PART IV

"No, I got that," Nightwing shook his head. "I meant all that... flirting."

"Seduction is an art that every assassin learns to domine, females specifically," Jason chuckled, amused by how uncomfortable it made Dick that his little brother was being hit on.

"Not the Wilsons," Nightwing protested. "They might use it at times, but only when they are interested. Otherwise, Slade believed it to be beneath them."

"And you do not believe it possible for Rose to be interested on me?" Jason teased his brother, laughing when he stuttered an apology and trying to explain that it was not what he meant. "Relax, I am teasing you. I know what you meant." Jason sighed, looking towards the direction Rose had parted towards. "I met Rose in various missions while I was still under the effects of the Pit Madness and leading a League of Assassins team. We helped each other, it was a mutually beneficial relationship."

"One that lead to sex?" Nightwing teased, finally relaxing on the subject of his younger brother's sex life.

Jason's smile turned soft. "We met when she had recently turned her back to Slade and I was mad at Bruce, we understood each other's rage... she was my first time, and I was hers."

Dick's eyes widened in surprise. "Little Wing."

"We ended our arrangement when I joined the All-Caste and met Essence. No hard feelings, we were never in love to begin with." Jason waved his brother's worries away. "We are still good friends though."

"Well, I'm glad to see that you have a support team of good friends," Nightwing smiled encouragingly at Red Ghoul.

Jason laughed humorlessly. "But you would have preferred that it would not be filled with assassins."

"Hey, now, you recall that I run away from home to be trained by Deathstroke," Dick raised an eyebrow with an amused smirk. "I think that as long as they have your back, nothing else should matter."

Feeling self-conscious, Jason decided to change the topic of conversation. "Did you find anything?"

Dick's expression turned into a grimace. "Nothing. Another dead end."

Jason sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "That kid is the slippery kind. I would be impressed if it did not make me want to throttle him."

"You and me both," Dick chuckled humorlessly. "You and me both."

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In the dimly lit training room of the Batcave, the air was thick with tension. The faint glow from the overhead lights reflected off the polished blades of two katanas, casting an ethereal gleam. Katana, her raven-black hair tied back in a ponytail, stood poised with her blade drawn. Opposite her, Zamurad held his sword with confidence, his eyes fixed intently on his opponent.

The initial clash was explosive. Metal met metal with a resounding clang as they tested each other's defenses, their blades a blur of swift and calculated movements. Katana, with her experience, tried to anticipate Zamurad's strikes, but the young warrior was unpredictable, his movements fluid and deceptive.

They danced around each other, their footwork impeccable. The rhythm of their swords created a mesmerizing spectacle, weaving a tale of strength, skill, and determination. The sharp, metallic scent of their weapons filled the air with each strike, creating a symphony of sounds that echoed through the vastness of the cave.

Zamurad, with a swift move, aimed for Katana's legs, but she deftly sidestepped and countered, her blade grazing his side. He winced but didn't falter, swiftly recovering and retaliating with a series of rapid strikes. Katana, sensing the shift in momentum, parried each blow with precision, her movements a testament to her mastery.