No need to sneak into a military base.
No need to assassinate rivals—like that tin-can boy.
All he had to do was attend a "Pretty Boy" selection event,
then stroll into a bank and collect the money.
If Mr. Hammer hadn't completely lost his mind—
then he must be the illegitimate son of the Goddess of Fortune.
Deadpool, who had stumbled through most of his life,
had never felt this excited.
He even took a shower.
Put on clean clothes.
The meeting was scheduled—tonight.
When Deadpool stepped out of his apartment,
he was immediately spotted by his obese landlady.
"Damn it, Wade! You little bastard!"
"How long do you plan on dodging your rent?!"
"If you don't give me an answer today, I'll throw you out myself!"
She grabbed a clothes rack and charged at him.
But Deadpool moved first.
He leapt from the ground,
stepped onto the railing—
and struck the pose of a "Leap of Faith."
Then
he jumped straight off the apartment balcony.
Several stories down.
A heavy thud echoed.
On the yellowed marble floor below,
a flower of blood bloomed.
Even pale brain matter splattered meters away.
The fat landlady let out a piercing scream.
She never imagined the madman would actually do it.
But her scream cut off abruptly
because
Wade wasn't dead.
The grotesque man slowly dragged himself up from the ground.
With shattered bones and a crooked limp,
he staggered toward the bus station.
[Dangerous action. Do not imitate.]
Night.
A group of gifted superhumans gathered on the rooftop of Hammer Industries.
Four in total.
The first—
a hulking giant nearly three meters tall,
a mountain of flesh.
Hairless, scar-covered skin,
reeking yellow saliva dripping from his mouth.
Codename: Ogre.
A wanted criminal.
Eight confirmed murders—
all extremely brutal.
His ability: Devour & Regenerate.
Non-lethal wounds could be rapidly healed through consumption.
Hammer's promise:
"Participate in the selection, and all past crimes will be erased."
Beside him stood a white man in monk robes.
Messy blond hair.
Dark circles around pale eyes.
His ability—rumored to be omniscience.
Hammer's promise:
"Join the selection, and I will fund your presidential campaign."
The third—
a muscular man carrying a Gatling gun.
A retired soldier.
No powers.
Just fearless.
His favorite hobby—
tearing enemies and civilians apart with machine-gun fire.
Hammer's promise:
"An Iron combat suit—turn you into a War Machine."
The fourth—
a man in a red-and-black bodysuit,
two katanas crossed on his back,
dual pistols at his waist,
and a bizarre crimson mask.
Wade Winston Johnson.
Ability: Hyper-Regeneration.
Even if chopped into pieces—
he would recover with time.
Former foreign mercenary.
Now a professional assassin.
Pay him, and he'll do anything.
Hammer's offer:
Ten million dollars.
Enough to make him very, very happy.
Murderers.
Frauds.
Executioners.
Psychopaths.
In half a day—
this was Hammer's answer to Renjie.
The boss did not want real "heroes."
He wanted obedient superpowered weapons.
These talented criminals were perfect as enforcers.
They stood together—
a disturbing spectacle.
Hammer pushed his glasses up, smiling smugly.
He was very satisfied with his choices.
Now—
all that remained
was to wait for the boss to arrive,
and select the ones he wanted.
The tension was suffocating.
Everyone sized up their rivals with hostile eyes.
But even in such an oppressive atmosphere
there was always one troublemaker.
"Hey, buddy—can you do that again?"
"…that thing…"
"No one understands better than me—"
Deadpool, the most restless of them all,
made accordion-pulling gestures with his hands,
grinning as he rambled at the so-called "enlightened monk."
But beneath the leather
his eyes were sharp.
Constantly scanning the others.
He deliberately kept his distance from the three-meter meat mountain.
The monster carried a massive cleaver,
like a butcher straight out of a shooter game.
Judging by the stitched scars,
he was thick-skinned
probably bullet-resistant.
Compared to that freak—
the other two looked harmless.
Suddenly
Deadpool fell silent.
A terrifying presence surged from behind.
Every cell in his body trembled.
Everyone felt it.
They turned in horror toward Hammer's back.
Hammer sensed it too.
He spun around, eyes blazing with worship,
spreading his arms toward his god.
Reflected in his pupils—
dreamlike blue light.
The man had arrived.
A god had descended.
END OF CHAPTER
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