The Organization's Test

"Cao Dahua! You Lao Wang! You skipped out on the bill again!"

The waiter, who had rushed over upon hearing the commotion, stood at the door with the bill in hand, maintaining a well-trained professional smile as he watched the three of them.

"You don't have any money either? Then I'll chip in some for you."

Chan Ka-kui scratched the back of his head, turned his wallet upside down, and pulled out two hundred and thirty yuan in change, pushing it over.

Deadpool still had half a piece of frozen tofu dangling from his mouth, his mask pulled up to the tip of his nose, his eyes wide open watching the spectacle, and he even reached out to grab the remaining pickled garlic on the table.

Sing Sing Chow slapped his hand away.

That old bastard!

Last time we had barbecue, that old fox Cao Dahua used the excuse of needing to pee to sneak away, and ended up squatting in the toilet for over half an hour.

I've fallen into the same trap again today!

We dug this hole ourselves!

We should have waited until he finished paying the bill and got to the KTV private room before informing Yu Suqiu!

Sing Sing painfully pulled out his phone to scan the QR code. Hearing the crisp notification sound of the deduction, he felt more pain than cutting his own flesh with Pig Butchering Knife.

Before leaving, he couldn't resist pouring the half-plate of pickled garlic into a plastic bag and handing it to Deadpool.

We cannot waste it.

We should save on public funds, and we should save even more on our own money.

Deadpool, standing nearby, gave a thumbs-up and mumbled, "Well done, boss! Isn't this what they call 'making the most of everything'?"

It was already past midnight when they returned to the base. After washing up, Sing Sing went straight to sleep.

He had a dream in which Cao Dahua was being chased all over the street by Yu Suqiu with a feather duster, and the fat man screamed as he ran.

He held up a wad of bright red hundred-yuan bills, crying and begging Sing Sing to accept the money for the hot pot meal.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, dazzling the eyes.

Sing Sing yawned, carrying the soy milk and fried dough sticks he bought from the cafeteria, and strolled towards the office building. As soon as he entered the first floor, he saw that familiar figure.

Deadpool was sitting on the sofa playing on his phone. There was a backpack next to him with the words "Serve the People" scrawled on it in marker. Half of the pickled garlic he had swiped yesterday was sticking out of the bag.

Deadpool, with his sharp eyes, spotted him immediately and gave a rather awkward salute.

"Reporting, sir! Agent Wade Wilson is fully dressed and ready to carry out a top-secret mission!"

Several researchers passing by turned to look. Sing Sing rushed forward, stuffed half a fried dough stick into his mouth, and dragged him into the courtyard outside.

"Keep your voice down! Are you worried the whole base won't know you're going to cause trouble?"

"I'm just so excited! This is the first time in my life I've ever been a legitimate government agent!"

"Boss, after I finish this job and come back, will I be able to wear one of your uniforms with the national emblem?"

Sing Sing didn't answer, but reached out and patted him on the shoulder with a serious expression.

"Comrade Wade, your mission this time is the most crucial link in the entire North America strategic layout."

"Silver Peak and Stryker's gang of bastards are doing cloning and human experimentation in United States, causing countless Mutants to be displaced?"

Sing Sing earnestly tried to deceive him.

"If you single-handedly infiltrate their lab and turn it upside down, you'll be a great hero who saves the people from suffering."

"This is called a lone guerrilla unit behind enemy lines! When you return victorious... don't just expect a promotion, your picture will be the first one on the honor roll! Aunt Zhang in the cafeteria will even give you two extra pieces of braised pork when you get your food!"

Deadpool, his blood boiling, exclaimed, "Don't worry, boss! I guarantee I'll blow those bastards from Silver Peak's lair to smithereens! Let them taste the Iron Fist of socialism!"

He stretched out his hand and laid it out in front of Sing Sing.

"But boss, we need funding for operations behind enemy lines, right? We need to buy gasoline for explosives, take taxis, etc. I can't possibly walk across United States on foot, can I?"

Do you want money?

More like deadly!

Sing Sing touched his pocket; his heart was bleeding.

I, Zhou, am poor too...

He reluctantly pulled out five hundred dollars, twisting and turning it between his fingers as if it were his own lifeline, before finally gritting his teeth and slapping it into Deadpool's hand with a "smack," his cheeks trembling with heartache.

"Here you go! All the activity funds the organization has given you!"

Deadpool held the five hundred dollars, turning it over and over in his hand for a long time.

"Seriously, boss? That's only a little over seventy dollars! Did you give me the wrong amount? This is just change for buying instant noodles on the way."

Sing Sing face and spoke in a righteous and stern tone.

"Superficial! This is the organization's ultimate test for you!"

"You think large sums of money are easy to manage? Your country's financial surveillance is no joke. If you have tens of thousands of dollars in your account, you'll be caught red-handed and have your pants pulled down that very day!"

"True top agents always operate in seclusion, relying on survival skills to complete their missions!"

"Those 007s in the movies are just for the average person! A true master would dare to storm enemy headquarters with only five dollars in his pocket—that's micro-management! That's a level of skill!"

"Let me tell you, this money is printed with micro-engraved intelligence; don't spend it recklessly unless it's a matter of life and death!"

Deadpool held the money up to the sun for a long time, and the more he looked at it, the brighter his eyes became.

"I understand!"

He folded the money neatly, stuffed it into the innermost pocket of his tight-fitting clothes, and pressed it down several times.

"This is extreme survival training! The higher-ups are indeed far-sighted! I knew it! Why did they only give me five hundred yuan? It was to train my wilderness survival skills!"

"Don't worry, boss, even if I have to beg for food all the way, I guarantee I'll complete the task flawlessly!"

Sing Sing suppressed a laugh, took out the map he had drawn beforehand, and handed it to him.

Several crooked circles were drawn in red on the map, and several graffiti depicting explosions were drawn next to them.

"These are the suspected locations of the remaining laboratories at Silver Peak. Feel free to do whatever you want, make things as messy as possible, the more muddy the waters, the better."

"Mission accomplished!"

Deadpool tucked the map into his pocket, pressed the malfunctioning teleportation belt on his waist, and waved to Sing Sing.

"Wait for my return for a celebratory feast! Remember to tell the cafeteria to prepare plenty of lamb!"

A flash of blue light, and the person vanished without a trace.

Two seconds later, a scream came from mid-air, its long sound fading into the distance.

"Holy crap? The GPS is in the sky!"

Sing Sing Chow shouted to the sky, "Remember to swim east when you land! There are fishing boats over there! And when you're hanging on the Statue of Liberty, remember to give me a thumbs-up!"

Having dealt with Deadpool, this ticking time bomb, Lao Zhou finally felt a bit better.

He strolled towards the underground resettlement area, intending to visit the two newlyweds he had brought back from Japan.

Ichirai Hisako's suppressor was also removed; I wonder how well she's recovered.

Daken has been studying Labor Laws these past few days. With that kid's explosive temper, who knows how frustrated he is right now.