You thought you were slick.

He already had a long day. A worthless piece of scum target the mercenary had been paid to kill just refused to die...but he squished it like a bug regardless. Him and everyone who had been in Slade's way towards him.

Not that they were able to do much. They had barely been able to put up a fight, some fled...pussies.

All this to say, imagine he returns to his temporary hideout, caked in blood of various men, only to find-you.

A little rat that somehow got in. Typical. Pests tend to do that.

Trying to steal from him. Caught red handed by none other than Slade.

The silence stretched as he looked at you. Cold. His working eye glaring in a shiver inducing stare.