Come Back East with Me for a Guaranteed Government Job for Life!
"Holy crap, a plasma breaching bomb?"
Has the arms race in these slums already evolved into a cyberpunk version?
Deadpool lay on the ground, frantically stuffing the dollars he had just stolen into his tight-fitting clothes while leaning forward and shouting.
"Boss! This setup is from a VIP player who spent 648 yuan! Shouldn't we free-to-play players go back to base to replenish our stats?!"
"You're kidding me! Didn't you hear what that little Karami said? The jungle monsters are about to be stolen by the dragon!"
Sing Sing Chow grabbed Deadpool's straps and spun him around three times like a windmill.
"You've been training for a thousand days, so you can use them in one! Comrade Wade, the time has come to show your value as a temporary worker!"
"Get out of here!"
"Director, slow down! My balls are being blown so hard they're stuck to my tailbone by the wind!"
In the blink of an eye, the two had crossed three blocks.
Slaughterhouse.
The stench of rotting flesh and the smell of cheap disinfectant made one's brain swell.
In the center of the hall stood a dilapidated operating table, surrounded by old and worn-out medical equipment.
Christopher Muse, a young Black man, was leaning against the edge of the stage, sweating profusely.
He was surrounded by more than thirty slave hunters carrying standard pulse rifles, who had completely blocked the area.
In the pool of blood in the corner lay four corpses that had just died.
These people were originally neighbors whose lungs had been pierced by stray bullets in the street, Christopher used most of his strength to save them.
As a result, after the group broke down the door, they shot each of them in the head right in front of him.
"Save your energy. Every drop of your sweat now belongs to the buyer; don't waste it on these slum scum."
A burly white man with a prosthetic eye in his left eye stepped out from the front of the crowd, holding a collar in his right hand.
Beside him, the Blood Crow Gang's big boss sidled up, all smiles.
"Captain Barton, do you think this one's authentic?"
"I specifically sent my men to keep an eye on him for half a month. This kid is incredibly skilled in the black market; he can even bring someone back to life after being dead for half a minute!"
Barton ignored him, his prosthetic eye locking onto Christopher.
"Christopher Muse, codename Trauma Responder. Sign this lifelong contract, put on the restraint collar, and I can spare you some physical pain."
Christopher's eyes were red-rimmed as he grabbed a bloodstained scalpel and held it across his carotid artery.
"Get out of my way! Who I save... and when I save them, is entirely up to me!"
He gritted his teeth, the Blade pressing a line of blood into the skin of his neck.
"Tsk, what a touching speech from a self-proclaimed saint from the lower classes."
"Little Muse, your precious life-restoring genes come at a price; every drop of your sweat has a price tag."
"Buyers don't like damaged parts. As for the poor bastards on the ground? In Detroit, not being able to afford medical care is a capital offense."
Barton chuckled twice and pressed the remote control in his hand.
The drones that were originally hovering in the four corners suddenly lit up with blue light, and the directional sound wave generators they were carrying were turned on at full power.
This infrasound, specifically targeting the balance zone and nerve center of Mutants' cerebellum, made Christopher feel as if steel needles were being stirred inside his head.
My wrist went limp, and the scalpel fell to the ground.
He clutched his ears in pain, his eyes bloodshot.
Several Blood Crow Gang thugs nearby who weren't wearing noise-canceling headphones were also affected, covering their ears, rolling their eyes, and foaming at the mouth.
Barton walked up to Christopher and stepped on him.
"From today onwards, you are merely a nameless medical device..."
Before the words were even finished, the roller shutter iron gate at the entrance of the slaughterhouse, along with the concrete door frames on both sides, was smashed from the outside in!
Four slave hunters along the way were slammed against the wall on the spot.
Amidst concrete debris and dust, Sing Sing stepped into the hall.
"Playing rock music on a loudspeaker in the middle of the night, have you considered the sleep quality of the surrounding residents? Disturbing the peace can get you detained by the police!"
A red and black blurry figure darted in through the doorway.
"Ta-da! Your grandmaster makes his grand entrance!"
Deadpool stood with his hands on his hips, winking at everyone through the white-rimmed glasses on his mask.
"A top-tier talent scout team from the East is at your service!"
Surprise, motherfxxker! Are there any free Mexico chips on site?
"I want it with double cheese and pickles! If they don't have it, I'm giving them a bad review!"
"What are you standing there for?! Open fire! Turn them into mincemeat!"
Barton released Christopher, took two steps back, waved, and shouted.
The slave-catching team members scattered, and high-energy laser beams and armor-piercing bullets instantly engulfed the entrance.
Deadpool yelled and charged into the hail of bullets.
"Wuhu! Take off! Free fully automated full-body acupuncture and massage!"
Armor-piercing bullets and laser beams riddled him with holes, but Deadpool, despite his injuries, drew his twin blades and charged into the crowd.
"This monster in red is invincible!"
"Smash him on the head!"
With Deadpool drawing away most of the firepower, Sing Sing also launched his operation.
With his right hand held together, he pointed in mid-air at the two laser operators behind him.
Two invisible finger-like forces struck the two men, causing their heads to tilt to the side and killing them instantly.
In the blink of an eye, apart from those who had been cut down by Deadpool, the rest lay limp and collapsed on the ground.
"Go to hell!"
Barton panicked, his tactical backpack spewing out two trails of flame as he used the thrust to leap ten meters.
With its mechanical right arm operating at full power, it drew a heavy-duty concussion tomahawk from behind and swung it down at Sing Sing!
Die!
Sing Sing raised his right hand and flicked it away at the axe blade that was falling in front of him.
Finger Snapping Skill!
"Clang!"
The blade of the Shock Axe cracked instantly.
The entire battle axe shattered from that single flick of the finger, sending fragments flying everywhere!
Barton's eyes widened as the recoil force surged through his wrist into his mechanical right arm.
The hydraulic lines and motor inside the robotic arm overloaded, and the entire right arm was blown off.
My hand!
Sing Sing stepped forward and stepped on Barton's chest.
Deadpool was fiddling with his opponent's weapon in the distance, whistled. "One-finger strike breaks a giant axe! Master, you're awesome!"
Sing Sing ignored him, stepping on the man with one foot, and reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket with his right hand, pulling out a business card.
He turned his head, looked at Christopher who was standing there in a daze, and said in a gentle tone:
"Let me introduce myself. My name is Stephen Zhou, Director of the Overseas Special Talent Recruitment Office 749 Bureau."
With a flick of his wrist, the business card fell into Christopher's palm.
"Young man, I see you have good medical skills. It's a waste of your talent to be a quack doctor in this basement."
"Interested in changing locations and coming with me to the East for a stable, government-affiliated job? Meals and accommodation included, full benefits, and absolutely no forced overtime!"
Christopher clutched the business card, his mind blank, completely unable to connect the person in front of him with the director.
Before he could reply, the Barton that Sing Sing was standing on began to twitch violently.
"A guaranteed job? None of you will survive!"
Barton, his face covered in blood, grinned maliciously, his intact left hand slapping the side of his breastplate.
The thick armor on his chest popped open, revealing a fist-sized, red-glowing spherical device embedded in his sternum.
"Self-destructing the core?!"
Deadpool clutched his head and yelled, "This bastard can't take a joke! If he can't beat us, he should just pull out a gas canister and blow himself up!"