In an arcade located at the fringes of Hell's Kitchen, a small yellow figure hopped onto an arcade machine. After skillfully inserting two coins into the coin slot, it started operating the joystick and buttons with arms as well as feet.
Before long, a dark figure materialized on the gaming platform. The intensely concentrated Pikachu, who was controlling the game character, didn't notice someone had shown up behind him.
With the stubby yellow hands, Pikachu exerted strength to manipulate the joystick, while rhythmically stomping on the buttons with his feet. The video game was essentially turned into a dance revolution machine as Pikachu strung a series of dazzling combos on the screen.
Just as Pikachu prepared to land the final blow, his hands and feet were abruptly suspended in mid-air, continuously mimicking the motion of pushing the joystick and hitting the buttons.
Watching the character on screen being KO-ed due to the lack of control, Pikachu desperately waved his arms and feet but to no avail. The exasperated yellow rodent bit hard on the hand that interrupted him.
A loud howl echoed from behind him. A man wearing a black and red uniform, with a longsword slung on his back, clutched his hand, bent over with knees turned inward, constantly howling in pain.
"Wilson! Have you lost your mind?!" Pikachu yelled, "Couldn't you see, I was about to win?!"
The man named Wilson shook his hand and said, "How many times do I have to tell you, call me Deadpool! Moreover, just because both our actors are Ryan Reynolds, doesn't mean you can address me by my name so casually..."
"Are you ok?" Pikachu fold his arms and grumbled, "Get lost if you don't have a problem, don't interrupt my game!"
"Do you even remember you're a detective? Looks like you're well on your way to turning into a professional gamer." Deadpool shoved Pikachu and retorted, "Don't think I didn't see, you were playing terribly just now. Step away, watch me obliterate them!"
Pikachu snorted contemptuously and moved aside.
Ten minutes later, Deadpool shouted, "Taste your daddy Deadpool's big boom——!!!"
With a "bang," the character on the screen unleashed a super move, KO-ing his opponent. However, in a sudden crackling sound, the joystick snapped off due to the extreme force applied by Deadpool.
A few tens of seconds later, Pikachu and Deadpool were both grabbed by the collar and thrown out by the proprietor of the arcade. The human and rodent duo were sitting on the steps leading to the entrance of the staircase hall. Deadpool handed Pikachu the recently bought Taco and asked,
"Where's Spider-Man? Where has he been recently? Why isn't he joining us for games?"
"Don't even mention it, S.H.I.E.L.D. recently hired him for commission work and he still has college classes to attend. You think he's an unemployed layabout, like you?" Pikachu bit into his taco, grunting.
"I've told you before, I'm a mercenary!"
"Right, a mercenary that nobody ever hires." Pikachu took a sip of his Coke, saying, "I haven't seen you take up any job ever since I met you. Can you even afford to feed yourself?"
Deadpool frozen for a moment, then said, "What you said is true. I am indeed a useless man... But this can't be entirely my fault, right???"
He grumbled in frustration, "In the past, many people would hire me to assassinate their competitors. There were even folks willing to pay big bucks to kill the President. But now, damn it, everyone in the world is in cahoots. Large companies were drowning in orders like snowflakes, and even small firms took their share of the spoils. They didn't need to resort to killings for orders anymore..."
"This goes for me and the several most famous top-tier hitmen out there too. Some have retired and started families, while others have mixed into the astronaut profession and undergone extraterrestrial expeditions..." Deadpool heaved a sigh, appearing as though he was sagging under the burden of life's woes.
"Why don't you break into the astronaut profession? I remember, you're quite nimble?" Pikachu asked.
"What gibberish are you spouting?" Deadpool took a bite of his taco and retorted, "Astronauts can't have scars on their bodies. And me... other than scars, what else do I have?"
Pikachu nodded. Deadpool then took a big sip of Coke, choked on the mouthful and coughed a few times. After which, he said, "When is Spider-Man going to be free? I want to play with him. We didn't complete our last game yet..."
"Who knows, I think, you'd better start looking for a job. Otherwise, you won't even have the money to buy game tokens."
Deadpool snorted in response, "You're underestimating me... I'm already out of money to buy game tokens!"
Having said that, he stood up, fumbled his pants pockets with his hand, and found them empty. He shook his wallet upside down, two of his head-shots fell out, but not a cent more.
"The last of my money was spent on snacks just now. If there are no orders coming in, I might have to start working for real." Deadpool shrugged nonchalantly.
After parting ways with Pikachu, Deadpool returned to his rented apartment in Hell's Kitchen, and decided to cook himself a meal come nightfall due to being broke.
After opening the refrigerator, only some leftover food remained. He couldn't cook to save his life, but knew how to light the stove at the very least.
After heating the pan, he carelessly dumped all the leftovers in. In it went the remaining hot dog bun from before, a portion of noodles purchased from a Chinese restaurant, half-eaten spicy year cake, and even half a loaf of bread with some raw crab.
With no spatula at hand, he had to stir everything with his hand instead. Once white smoke started billowing, he dumped everything onto a plate.
Deadpool scrunched his nose and murmured, "Looks like it won't taste great, but then again, I don't have a sense of smell... So who cares!"
With that, he moved his plate to the edge of the table and started shoveling in the food. But he had forgotten one thing - even though he was a genetically modified person and had no sense of taste, he could still get diarrhea.
His digestive system was not made of iron, and even if it were, it would not be able to withstand the leftovers from who knows how many days ago, coupled with his horrible cooking skills.
Soon, Deadpool found himself frequently running to the bathroom. His modified genes brought him a major inconvenience - he produced an astonishing amount of excrement.
It didn't take long for the toilet to get clogged. Deadpool, experiencing stomachache and new to the place, unable to locate an outside toilet, had to find a way to unclog his own.
As a seasoned mercenary, Deadpool thought he could easily fix a domestic appliance. But mere seconds later, the toilet exploded.
Even though the living conditions in Hell's Kitchen are subpar, the residents could not tolerate a neighbor who lets their excrement explode. They quickly called the landlord, who, after plundering everything valuable from Deadpool, threw him out.
Smelling like excrement, Deadpool sat alone on the rooftop. Just then, a figure swung over. Spider Man walked toward Deadpool and asked, "What's wrong? Why are you here alone?"
"Hey, Spider Man! My landlord kicked me out because I didn't fix the toilet…" Deadpool said with a sense of grievance, "But it's not my fault! His old appliances are falling apart!"
"Hmm…" Spider Man looked him up and down, gave him a pat, and sniffed. Deadpool always gave off a foul odor, but today it was more potent. Spider Man stepped back a few feet, but still voiced his concern, "So you're homeless now? How about I lend you some money, and you can live in a hotel for now."
"Oh my, how could I possibly take that from you!" Deadpool nervously rubbed his hands together, to which Spider Man shook his head and replied, "It's no problem. I have some money now and besides, it might rain tonight. You should find a place to stay."
Deadpool, accepting the money from Spider Man, was so touched he was about to cry. He said, "No one has ever been so kind to me, Spider Man…"
"It's okay, it's just what friends do for each other. I've been very busy lately, but once things calm down, let's play some games together." Peter waved at him. Deadpool noticed that he looked a bit weary, but before he could say anything, Peter had swung away on his spider silk.
Deadpool, clutching the wad of bills in his hand and sniffing, jumped off the roof to find a new place to stay. Just then, his phone rang.
"Hello? Who?... Who did you say you are? I don't think I know you, right? Really? Have I ever left my number with Spider Man?"
"Alright, can I call you… umm… Dr. Rodriguez? It's a bit of a tongue twister... What? You're a psychologist at S.H.I.E.L.D.? You must be making a fortune…"
"Yes, I'm a mercenary. What?! You're offering me a job?!" Deadpool immediately sprung up in excitement and asked, "What do you want me to do? Kill someone? Which president? How's the pay? I must say, even though I recently lowered my rates, you can't short-change me!"
"Not a hit job? Then what could you possibly want from me?"
Deadpool stood in silence for quite some time, seemingly listening to the prompt explanation from the person on the other end of the line. After a while, he said:
"So you're saying, a rogue video game company, because of a programming error, rolled back their entire server to several months ago. You have a friend who played for months only to find everything erased, causing severe anxiety to the point of possibly requiring hospitalization..."
"Goodness, is the game operator a moron? You should just blow his head off, splattering brains all over his keyboard till he can't get them out..."
"Right, I understand. I love gaming too, and my friends are those game-addicted nerds too. Wait a second... This friend of yours, he isn't..."
In an instant, Deadpool made the connection.
The psychologist named Schiller Rodriguez who had called him worked for S.H.I.E.L.D., and Spider Man was currently employed there as well. When he saw Spider Man earlier, he noted that Spider Man seemed fatigued, which was quite unlike his usually energetic self.
Could the person the psychologist was referring to be Spider Man???
Deadpool glanced at the bills in his hand. He realized that it was not a coincidence that Spider Man had come to him - it must have been the meddling of that golden-haired pest Pikachu who had gotten word to Spider Man about his recent rough patch. And judging by Spider Man's weary state, he managed to squeeze some time out of his busy schedule to help.
As this realization hit him, Deadpool asked in a deep voice, "Do you want me to kill him?"
"Just to give him some trouble? Isn't that a bit too easy on him?... Indeed, you're right, if we go too far it might cause a problem for the victim... Alright, I get it... The address is... Huh? What a strange address, and I have to find it myself?... Okay then, I'm a professional at this."
"Compensation? No, I don't want any money, I will leave him with a memory he'll never forget!"
After hanging up, Deadpool looked up, adjusted his collar, secured his pistol and longsword,
He walked out of the dark alleyway, under the faint yellow streetlight, taking determined strides forward like a true hero.
Soon, a loud cry resonated over Hell's Kitchen:
"Landlord! Any more shit left?!!!"