Chapter 725

In an arcade on the edge of Hell's Kitchen, a small yellow figure jumped onto a game machine. After skillfully inserting two coins into the coin slot, he used both hands and feet to start operating the joystick and buttons.

Before long, a shadow covered the game machine's console. Pikachu, who was focused on controlling the character, didn't notice that someone had come up behind him.

He used his short yellow arms to push the joystick hard, and then kept stepping on the buttons with his feet. The arcade machine was played like a dance machine, but the character on the screen pulled off a cool combo.

Just as Pikachu was about to land a finishing blow, suddenly, his hands and feet were suspended in mid-air, continuously making the motions of pushing the joystick and stepping on the buttons.

Watching the character on the screen get KO'd directly because no one was controlling it, Pikachu waved his hands and feet frantically, but it was to no avail. The furious yellow mouse bit down on that hand.

A loud "Ouch!" came from behind. A man wearing a black and red uniform with a long sword on his back clutched his hand, bent over, and stood pigeon-toed, crying out in pain.

"Wilson! Are you crazy?!" Pikachu yelled. "Didn't you see I was about to win?!"

The man called Wilson shook his hand and said, "How many times do I have to say it? Call me Deadpool. Also, although our actors are both Ryan Reynolds, that doesn't mean you can call Lord Deadpool by his name..."

"Are you sick?" Pikachu said, crossing his arms. "Get lost if you have nothing to do! Don't disturb me playing games!"

"Do you still remember that you're a detective? I think you're becoming a professional gamer." Deadpool pushed Pikachu aside and said, "Don't think I didn't see it. You were terrible just now. Let me do it; I'll definitely KO them!"

Pikachu snorted coldly and jumped to the side.

Ten minutes later, Deadpool shouted, "Taste your Daddy Deadpool's big beep—!"

"!"

With a "Boom," the character on the screen unleashed an ultimate move, directly KO'ing the opponent. But because Deadpool pushed the joystick with too much force, with a "Crack," the joystick broke.

A few dozen seconds later, Pikachu and Deadpool were thrown out by the arcade owner, who held them by their collars. The mouse and the man sat on the steps in front of the arcade. Deadpool took a taco he had just bought, handed it to Pikachu, and said:

"Where's Spider-Man? Where has he been lately? Why doesn't he come to play games?"

"Don't mention it. S. H. I. E. L. D. has work for him lately, and he still has classes at university. Do you think he's an unemployed bum like you?" Pikachu took a bite of the taco and snorted coldly.

"I told you, I'm a mercenary!"

"Yeah, a mercenary who has never been hired by anyone." Pikachu took a sip of cola and said, "Since I've known you, I've never seen you get any work. Can you really support yourself?"

Deadpool froze for a moment, then said, "You're right, I really am a useless person... But this can't be entirely blamed on me, right???"

He said somewhat angrily, "In the past, many people hired me to assassinate their competitors, and some were even willing to pay a high price to assassinate the President. But now, damn it, the whole world is cooperating. Orders from big companies are like snowflakes, and small companies can get a piece of the pie. There's no need to kill people to grab orders at all..."

"Don't even talk about me. Some of those most famous gold-medal assassins have gone home to get married and have children, and some have simply mixed in with astronauts to go to outer space for scientific research..." Deadpool sighed, as if his back were bent by the burdens of life.

"Then why don't you mix in with the astronauts? I remember your skills are pretty good?" Pikachu asked.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Deadpool took a bite of the taco and said, "Astronauts can't have scars on their bodies. My body... besides scars, is there anything else on my body?"

Pikachu nodded. Deadpool took a big gulp of cola and swallowed it. He choked and coughed twice, then said, "When will Spider-Man not be busy? I want to find him to play; we haven't finished that game yet..."

"Who knows? I think you'd better find a job first. Otherwise, you won't even have money to buy game tokens."

Deadpool snorted coldly and said, "You underestimate me too much... I already don't have money to buy game tokens!"

After speaking, he stood up and reached into his pants pocket; there was nothing inside. He took out his wallet and shook it downward, and two headshots of himself fell out. Besides that, there wasn't a single cent.

"The last money I had was used to buy food. If there are no more orders, I might really have to go get a job." Deadpool shrugged.

After parting ways with Pikachu, Deadpool returned to the apartment he rented in Hell's Kitchen. At night, because he had no money to buy those ready-made snacks, he planned to cook a meal for himself.

He opened the refrigerator, and there were some leftovers inside. He didn't know how to cook at all, but at least he could light a fire and turn on the stove.

After heating the pot, he dumped all those dishes in—there were leftover hot dog buns, a portion of noodles bought at a Chinese restaurant, unfinished spicy rice cakes, and even half a raw bread crab.

He dumped all these things into the pot. Because there was no spatula, he could only stir them with his hand. After white smoke came out, he dumped them all onto a plate.

Deadpool sniffed and whispered, "Looks like it won't taste too good, but I don't have a sense of smell anyway, so who cares!"

As he spoke, he carried the plate to the table and started to eat heartily. But he forgot one thing: although he was a cyborg and had no sense of taste, he would still get diarrhea.

His stomach wasn't made of iron, and even if it were, it couldn't withstand the poison of leftovers left from who knows how many days ago and his terrible cooking skills.

Soon, Deadpool started running to the bathroom. His modified genes brought him a big problem: his output of feces was astonishing.

Not long after, the toilet clogged. But Deadpool had a stomachache, and since he had just moved in, he couldn't find an outside toilet. He could only try to find a way to unclog his toilet.

As a mercenary who had walked the world for many years, Deadpool thought there was no problem with repairing a small appliance. Then, a few dozen seconds later, the toilet exploded.

The environment in Hell's Kitchen was bad, but that didn't mean the residents here could tolerate their neighbor exploding feces. Soon, they called the landlord of the house. After the landlord scraped away everything valuable on Deadpool, he threw him out.

Deadpool, carrying the smell of feces, sat alone on the roof. But at this moment, a figure swung to his side. Spider-Man walked toward Deadpool and asked, "What's wrong with you? Why are you here alone?"

"Hey! Spider-Man! I was kicked out by my landlord just because I didn't fix the toilet..." Deadpool said with some grievance, "But this can't be blamed on me; it was clearly his furniture that was in disrepair!"

"Hmm..." Spider-Man looked him up and down, then sniffed. Deadpool actually always carried a foul smell, but today the smell was more obvious. Spider-Man was smoked into taking two steps back, but he still said with special concern, "Then do you have nowhere to live? How about I lend you some money first, and you go stay in a hotel?"

"Oh my god! How can I be so embarrassed!" Deadpool rubbed his hands together, pigeon-toed. Spider-Man shook his head and said, "It's okay, I have money now, and it might rain tonight. You'd better find a place to stay quickly."

Deadpool took the money from Spider-Man's hand, moved to the point of tears, and said, "No one has ever been so good to me, Spider-Man..."

"It's okay, this is just concern for a friend. I've been busy lately. When I'm free, we'll play games together." Peter waved his hand at him. Deadpool noticed that he seemed a bit exhausted, but before Deadpool could say anything, Peter swung away with his web.

Deadpool pinched the stack of money, sniffed, and jumped off the roof, planning to find a new place to live. But just then, his phone rang.

"Hello? Who?... You say you are who? But I shouldn't know you, right? Is that so? Did I ever leave Spider-Man's number for you?"

"Alright, can I call you... uh... Dr. Rodriguez? This surname is really a mouthful... What did you say? You are a psychologist at S. H. I. E. L. D.? Then you must earn a lot..."

"Yes, I am a mercenary. What?! You say you want to hire me?!" Deadpool immediately bounced up from the ground and asked excitedly, "What do you want to hire me to do? Kill someone? Which president to kill? How's the price? I must say, even if the price has dropped recently, you can't fool me!"

"Not killing people? Then why are you looking for me?"

Deadpool stood in place and was silent for a long time, seemingly listening to the person on the other end of the phone explain the situation. After a while, he said:

"You mean, there is an unscrupulous game company that, because of a program error, rolled back the entire server to a few months ago. You have a good friend who played the game for several months, and after discovering it was rolled back, he developed severe anxiety and might even need hospitalization..."

"Oh my god, is the operator of this game an idiot? You should be able to blow his head off, let his brains spill onto the keyboard, and not be able to pick them out..."

"Yes, I understand. I also like playing games, and my friend is also that kind of nerd who is addicted to games. Wait... this friend of yours, could it be..."

Deadpool's brain circuit connected in an instant.

This psychologist named Shiler Rodriguez who called him was a psychologist at S. H. I. E. L. D., and Spider-Man happened to be working at S. H. I. E. L. D. recently. When he saw him just now, Deadpool found that Spider-Man seemed a bit exhausted, very different from his usual energetic self.

Could the person this psychologist is talking about be Spider-Man???

Deadpool glanced at the stack of money in his hand. He knew that Spider-Man couldn't have met him by chance. It was only possible that the yellow mouse had found Spider-Man and told Spider-Man that his condition was poor recently. Therefore, Spider-Man came over, and looking at Spider-Man's exhausted appearance, he was probably squeezing time out of his busy schedule to help him.

Thinking of this, Deadpool asked in a deep voice, "Do you want me to kill him?"

"Just find some trouble for him? Isn't that a bit too cheap for him?... Indeed, what you said is also right. If you do it too thoroughly, it might bring trouble to the victim... Alright, I know... The address is... Hmm? Why is this address a bit strange? I have to find it myself?... Alright, I am a professional."

"Price? No, I don't take money. I will leave him with an unforgettable memory for life!"

After hanging up the phone, Deadpool looked up, tidied his collar, and hung his pistol and long sword well.

He walked out along the dark alley, and under the dim light of the street lamp, he took a heroic and firm step.

Soon, a shout echoed over Hell's Kitchen:

"Landlord!

Is there any more shit?!

!"