Heard of the Chief Position Planner of China's 749 Bureau?

Good heavens!

Sing Sing stared wide-eyed at the thick legs and unusually broad shoulders before him, marveling at the superior muscle density and stable lower body. He thought that if they were packed up and thrown into the oil fields of Northwest China to carry drilling rigs, one person could be as tall as two heavy-duty cranes, saving on machine wear and tear costs and diesel fuel expenses!

With two baskets of cabbages provided daily in the canteen, he'd probably be working with great enthusiasm; he's practically a once-in-a-century talent for a top-tier model worker.

I just don't know if Wang Pangzi's side will approve these oversized work gloves and special safety helmets. If not, I could deduct ten yuan from my own salary to buy him a straw hat.

Upon seeing the blue behemoth charge out, Deadpool cursed as he shoved the two pistols back into place, fumbling and adjusting their positions through his bodysuit, afraid of accidentally firing them and damaging his weapon.

"Hey! Hank! Old buddy!" Deadpool raised his hand and greeted him in a very familiar manner, "Why aren't you sleeping in bed in the middle of the night, running around in this crappy place reminiscing?"

The Beast, completely unmoved by his tactics, exhaled two puffs of white breath from its nostrils.

"Wade! What are you doing here! This is a sealed-off area, who gave you permission to trespass!"

Deadpool dramatically clutched his chest and let out a long sigh. "Dude! You think I wanted to come to a place without even internet, surrounded by rotten wood? I'm a man of taste, you know!"

He pointed to Sing Sing across from him, his tone full of grievances from being beaten down by life.

"It's all about capturing this loser from the East alive! A rich boss offered a hefty sum specifically for him to be captured alive. Honestly, this job has extremely low cost-effectiveness!"

"This guy, wearing a tattered suit, actually managed to physically slice a truck in half! The author didn't even tell me his power level was this ridiculously inconsistent!"

The Beast took a big step forward. "Which big boss?"

With his hands outstretched, Deadpool adopted a nonchalant air. "Who else could it be? That perverted old man who likes to experiment on Mutants, William Stryker."

Stryker?!

Upon hearing those three words, the Beast's previously restrained eyes turned bloodshot, and all the blue fur on its body stood on end.

"You scum! You're Mutants too! You actually work for that murderer who used our fellow human beings for vicious experiments, all for money? How many of our brothers and sisters did he kill?!"

Deadpool wiped the drool off his face in disgust and stepped back. "Don't talk to me about moral blackmail!"

He shook his head cheekily, "What's the bottom line for mercenaries? There's no bottom line! As long as the money's right, I'd do anything for them—not just catch people, I'd even hand-wash their underwear and iron out the wrinkles!"

"I kill you!"

The Beast roared and raised its enormous fist to smash it down.

"Hey, hey, wait a minute!"

Sing Sing, who had just stuffed the throwing knife into his pocket, clapped his hands and strolled over. He cleared his throat and looked Deadpool up and down with the kind of look one would give a dummy.

"Hey you, you idiot in that red leather bodysuit, did you get your head stuck in a door?"

Pushing up his sunglasses, Sing Sing's appearance was utterly incomprehensible to the Beast, who thought to himself, "Who would be fighting in ruins in the middle of the night wearing sunglasses to look cool?"

Deadpool was stunned.

"Who are you calling a loser? My IQ is a whopping 700..."

"Gundam? Where's the Gundam? If you could bring me a Gundam, I'd carry a train and run away tonight!"

"Hey, did Stryker sign a labor contract when he hired you to work?"

Deadpool shook his head and said matter-of-factly, "What contracts do mercenaries sign? Don't you understand black market transactions?"

"Did he pay your Five Insurances and One Housing Fund? Does he provide high-temperature subsidies? Does he offer weekends off and paid annual leave?"

Sing Sing is relentlessly pressing forward.

"This..."

Deadpool's eye sockets visibly shrank, his imposing aura diminished considerably, as Deadpool said, "That old man's incredibly stingy; he won't even reimburse me for a taxi fare!"

That settles it!

"That old man Stryker doesn't even pay your basic employee benefits, and you expect him to give you the final payment without hesitation? Are you stupid? He's just using you as free expendable material!"

Think about it!

Sing Sing leaned closer, lowered his voice, and acted like a caring older brother.

"He sent you to arrest me. I'm such a good fighter, what if I cripple you? Would that be considered a work-related injury? Would he reimburse your medical expenses?"

"Even if you're lucky enough to catch me, given his Blackheart business practices, he'll probably just plant a bomb in the base and blow you up too, leaving no evidence against him. He's just using your labor for free, you bastard!"

"Fuck!"

Deadpool suddenly realizes what's going on.

"No wonder that old guy only paid 10% upfront. He even said the remaining 90% would be deducted using a supermarket gift card after the goods were inspected. What an old liar!"

The Beast, now silent, was somewhat bewildered. How did this scene suddenly turn into a labor dispute mediation session?

Turning his head, he looked at Sing Sing with a hint of wariness. This Asian man, who spoke with a lot of accounting logic, seemed to have a great deal of hostility towards Stryker.

And who are you?

His breath hit Sing Sing's face directly, carrying the unpleasant smell of unbrushed teeth.

With a look of disdain, Sing Sing leaned back, striking a pose of profound mystery.

"Good question!"

"Actually, I'm a human resources manager."

After a two-second silence in the corridor, the white eye sockets on Deadpool's mask shrank.

"Huh? Bro, I was mentally prepared, thinking you'd pull out one of those gold dog tags from S.H.I.E.L.D.. or Hydra!"

So, it turns out she's an HR person? The kind of evil HR person who sits in an air-conditioned office all day watching the security cameras and checking attendance, fines five yuan for every minute late, and would never sign or stamp a leave slip even if the person is dying?!

"You ignorant vagrant!"

Sing Sing pulled a business card from his suit pocket and handed it to the Beast's hairy face.

"I saw it clearly."

"Sing Sing, Field Supervisor of the Overseas Special Talent Recruitment Office, 749 Bureau of China, concurrently serving Chief Position Planner of the First Production Brigade. Business contact code: Ling Ling Qi."

The Beast stared intently at the small card held between its fingers.

This business card was hastily printed on the cheapest, thinnest copy paper, with crooked and uneven cuts at the edges.

"You... are someone who recruits for the government?"

How could a dignified Mutants, Beast, a core member of the X-Men, receive a poorly made street recruitment ad from a government contract recruiter?