The all-night revelry of the G-Men was still going on.
Even though the original pretext for this gathering had been a solemn memorial service.
When you gather together a bunch of sons of bitches, addicts, promiscuous degenerates, and sexual predators, you should already know how it's going to turn out.
But in a corner no one was paying attention to, a flash of yellow light passed by, and a sneaky red-and-black figure had already slipped quietly into the estate.
Calling it "sneaking in" wasn't entirely accurate. At this moment, Deadpool had yanked off his stupid mask, revealing half a pockmarked, ugly face, and was brazenly eating and drinking his fill at the banquet.
"This face is just a little... distinctive, that's all. You hack writers have never respected me even once... but that aside, what fucking universe is this anyway?"
Not long ago, Deadpool had swiped a teleporting, time-traveling watch from his good buddy Cable. Recently, he'd also borrowed some magical, multiverse-hopping gizmos from Darth Mickey.
Thankfully, the newly borrowed Mickey gadgets didn't require chanting something like "Miska Muska Mickey Mouse" to activate—otherwise, the R-rated persona Deadpool had spent his whole life cultivating would've been ruined on the spot.
Right now, he was hopping through the multiverse, eager to find his bff, Wolverine, and drag him along to save the world.
"Though honestly, it's not that urgent. End-of-the-world plots are something editorial pumps out twenty or thirty times a year anyway. They can wait a bit."
Deadpool stuffed everything within reach on the banquet table into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in a century, drawing quite a few curious looks from the people around him.
"Because I literally just ran out of an apocalypse world where the only edible thing was corpses!"
A hulking armored man wearing a Spartan helmet noticed the small disturbance Deadpool was causing. He was King Helmet, captain of G-Style, and he spoke up to sneer at this uncouth newcomer:
"Where did this prick come from? Does your division not even feed you properly? Stop acting like a starving rat."
While freeloading shamelessly, Deadpool heard yet another familiar yet unfamiliar term and was instantly full of question marks.
"What the fuck is a G-Men? Did Professor Xavier finally decide to change his last name to match his mom's, wheelchair and all?"
But none of that really mattered. What mattered was that he definitely hadn't come to the wrong place—Wolverine had to be here.
Deadpool made an intuitive leap and casually claimed he was from G-Factor.
After all, the X-Men—no, wait, the G-Men—never really had high recruitment standards to begin with; the fact that someone like Wolverine could get in was proof enough.
In an organization this bloated, who would bother memorizing the faces of hundreds of members anyway?
Especially when you're shameless.
"And I definitely didn't say that!"
Having eaten his fill, Deadpool started looking around. Soon, he spotted a familiar figure.
That imposing build, muscular arms, gleaming metallic skin, and that springy, all-metal ass—
Smack!
Deadpool slapped it without hesitation.
"Hey, Colossus! Seen Wolverine anywhere?"
Stacker turned his head to look at this suicidal fringe member who'd come out of nowhere.
He barely restrained the urge to smash the guy's skull in with his metal fists. Reciting Professor G's earlier warning to himself, he decided not to stoop to this idiot's level.
"You've had too much to drink, kid. This is New York, not Canada. There's no Wolverine here. And my name is 'Stacker,' you shark-brained asshole."
"Stacker?"
Truth be told, Deadpool thought his buddy's name in this universe was pretty garbage. But superhero names were like stage names—worst case, you just changed it.
He'd once gone by Green Lantern, after all. That was even worse. Almost ruined his entire superhero career.
Deadpool continued weaving through the banquet and soon found the true target of his trip—a far more familiar back view. To avoid getting his kidneys stabbed again, Deadpool opted for a gentler greeting.
"Hey, Logan! It's me!"
Drinking alone in a corner, Ground Hawk glanced sideways at this stranger he'd never seen before. The red-and-black suit
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Wooow~"
Seeing Ground Hawk's outfit and the twin hammers in his hands, Deadpool's expression instantly became priceless. At this moment, he was struggling harder than Hercules himself.
"Hahahaha! Wolverine with hammers for hands—does this mean you're called Hammer Wolf in this universe? I gotta say, you're officially the most unhinged Wolverine variant I've ever seen. Hold on, let me take a picture and send it to—"
Ground Hawk raised his arm and delivered a lightning-fast hammer strike, smashing Deadpool's head like a shattered silver bottle, brains splattering everywhere. Just like that, Deadpool's first night in this world came to an end.
When Deadpool regained consciousness, he had no idea how much time had passed. He seemed to be in a basement, and a woman pale as a ghost was dragging him by one leg towards a nearby incinerator.
"Seriously, this is way too weird. What kind of universe has X-Men who just kill people and burn the bodies without asking questions? This is my job!"
Deadpool's muttering caught Mirror Girl's attention. Her pupils shrank as she turned and slashed, her long nails darting straight for Deadpool's throat.
Deadpool kicked her away with a double kick, sending her flying, then blinked over to reclaim his twin swords.
"Next time the writers arrange for villains to loot my gear, could they search a little more thoroughly? The only valuable thing is the teleport watch on my waist. You just pretended not to see it?"
Mirror Girl charged again. She was a cold-blooded killing machine personally created by Professor G, a cleaner who did the dirty work in the shadows, the G-Men's final insurance. Even if the enemy came back from the dead, she could just kill him again!
Slash slash slash—
Deadpool's blades flashed, and the one-sided fight ended instantly, leaving only blood-soaked fragments scattered across the floor.
"This world's hit feedback is not bad. Kinda feels like Fruit Ninja."
Now then—it was time for Deadpool to see what kind of fun secrets the G-Men were hiding.
Ring ring ring~~~
Professor John Godolkin's phone rang once again.
Professor G glanced at the caller ID. Madelyn Stillwell.
That bitch had been hounding him relentlessly lately. Professor G even suspected that Nubia and Silver Kincaid's recent betrayal had been fueled by her meddling behind the scenes.
If he hadn't cleaned house quickly enough, the G-Men might have been destroyed outright. Her calling now was obviously just to latch onto last night's incident and try to browbeat him again.
After some thought, Professor G steeled himself for a massive hit to his wallet and picked up the phone.
"Madelyn, what happened last night was purely an accident. Just like Vought's other superheroes, my children sometimes make the kinds of mistakes all men make…"