A Killing Weapon Changing Careers? Here's a Cushy Security Booth Job at an Apartment Complex!

After examining the keys under the light for a while, Sing Sing put them away.

"Let's not touch this hot potato. Forcing our way through will only make things worse."

Wolverine, who had been silently smoking his cigar, took a final, sharp puff and stubbed out the cigarette against the wall.

"I need to go back to the ruins of the Severed Finger Bar."

"What? To clean up your old life?" Sing Sing raised an eyebrow slightly.

Wolverine ignored him and simply pushed open the door and left.

Sing Sing sighed, instructed the Gambit to keep an eye on the game, and then strode after him.

Outside in the parking lot, the two men stole an old Mustang with a creaking chassis.

With both hands on the steering wheel, Sing Sing dodged one pothole after another on the road surface, each large enough to shatter the suspension.

"The quality of your infrastructure is truly appalling. Did 80% of the maintenance fees end up in the pockets of those politicians?"

Sing Sing Chow floored the accelerator and continued his relentless attack:

"Look at you, your bones are practically rusting! A person should find a place where they can work hard and make a living. Building bridges and roads benefits future generations—that's a promising future!"

Wolverine, in the passenger seat, closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, as if a broken radio was crackling in his ear.

After a long while, the Mustang came to an abrupt halt in front of a scorched earth-covered open space.

The once sheltering Severed Finger Bar, is now just a pile of charcoal.

Wolverine stepped onto the land where he had lived for countless days and nights.

He stopped at the bar counter, relying on his memory of the location.

He reached into the ashes with both hands, roughly pried open two pieces of charred iron sheet pressed together, and pulled out a hard object from between them.

Sing Sing looked over and saw that the old wolf was holding a deformed glass wine glass, without saying a word.

He didn't have the habit of wallowing in melancholy.

After much thought, Sing Sing began searching through the ruins, making frequent clanging noises.

A few minutes later, he came out carrying two miraculously surviving bottles of Bourbon whiskey, with a bag of fried peanuts in deformed packaging tucked under his arm.

"What the hell have you done now?" Wolverine turned around, his voice extremely irritable.

"War-damaged assets can be recycled and reused. Just salvage them, wipe off the dust, and they're back on the dinner table!" Sing Sing patted the black ash off the bottle.

Wolverine's face twitched.

He stepped over two burnt beams and snatched one of the bottles of whiskey from Sing Sing's hands.

"You lackeys who wear the government's nameplate, you always have this repulsive face!"

"They blow everything they see! They try to grab whatever they fancy, and they drag everyone they see to register, file, and lock them up!"

Sing Sing was completely unconcerned about the stolen spoils, and before he could even crack a joke, he was met with a soul-searching question from the lone wolf.

"If it were up to your rules... how would you classify a monster like me, with hands stained with blood?"

Follow our rules and procedures.

"First, we'll send you to the logistics medical center for a comprehensive physical examination, including genetic screening, to identify any potential health risks. Then, we'll create an employee file."

"Once we've finished all that, let's find a meeting room, brew a cup of premium pre-Qingming Longjing tea, and ask you face-to-face what kind of job you really want to do diligently in the future."

Wolverine let out a cold laugh.

"You ask me what position I want? Don't you even bother to check how many lives my hands have taken?"

"Go ahead and investigate! Background checks are a necessary part of the hiring process; how can a political review be omitted?" Sing Sing said confidently.

"But that shouldn't be the first thing we talk about when we sit down."

"I used to sell pork at the old district's market. I became the top butcher in the whole street with just a knife."

"The pigs delivered every morning, regardless of which manure pit they rolled in before they died, or how badly they were tempered and how many feeders' ribs they broke..."

"When it's delivered to my stall, the first thing I always do is check for the blue hygiene and quarantine stamp on it."

"As long as you're willing to follow our rules, who the hell has time to dig up your old, trivial grievances?"

This absurd, colloquial theory actually extinguished the anger raging within Wolverine.

Even a professor, in his view, is a high and mighty moral judge.

But this eccentric agent in front of him actually used the method of weighing meat by the pound to estimate the price for him!

Oh shit!

Wolverine tilted his head back, downed the whiskey in one gulp, and smashed the bottle to pieces.

Six Adamantium claws popped out.

"That heartless bastard William Stryker used a catheter to force molten alloy, inch by inch, deep into my bone marrow!"

"He doesn't need me to think like a normal person, nor does he need me to retain any damned emotions. All he wants is a knife that only knows how to obey orders! A damned knife!"

To be frank, even if it's not pleasant to hear.

Sing Sing boldly extended his finger and flicked the side of the Adamantium claw, which could cut through iron like mud.

"Tools are born without independent consciousness, so how can they be right or wrong? The ones who created this mess are all brain-dead employers who are just waving the tools around blindly!"

He circled Wolverine halfway around.

"Look at your skeleton and claws. They're wear-resistant, pressure-resistant, and unaffected by conventional corrosion."

"This is a top-tier infrastructure project that you couldn't find even with a lantern!"

Sing Sing raised his hand and slapped the broad back.

"In the reconstruction of the disaster-stricken areas in Southwest China, you can easily cut through the tightly tangled steel reinforcement mesh under the landslide with just a few quick swipes of your claws!"

"In a chain-reaction collision on the highway, while others were anxiously waiting for hydraulic shears, you rushed over, ripped off the mangled roof of one of the cars, and pulled the driver, who was suffocating, out!"

"Logan, you can do a lot of things."

He stopped in front of the old wolf.

"Do you really want to label yourself a 'killing machine'? That's so petty, bro!"

"With a slight modification to the application scenario, you'll be the coolest guy in our China Engineering Emergency Response Team!"

Wolverine suddenly...

This was the first time in his life that he had ever heard someone stitch together the nightmare that had haunted him with concrete terms like "engineering demolition" and "rescue" into a single sentence.

"You really think... that my hands, besides drawing blood, can actually save lives?"

"Yes!"

"I'll first assign you to do high-risk, specialized engineering work for a few months. During the probationary period, if you feel you're not skilled enough or can't handle it, or if one day you get really tired of dealing with cement and steel bars on the construction site..."

He stroked his chin, pretending to think for a few seconds.

"I'll pull some strings and arrange a cushy security guard job for you privately?"

Wolverine stood on the scorched earth, letting the strong wind make his already messy hair even more disheveled.

He examined the badly deformed glass again.

Finally, he bent down and placed it back on the wreckage of the bar counter.

I didn't look at it a second time.

This dilapidated shelter, along with the years of fighting he spent numbing his senses with alcohol, was all buried cleanly here tonight.

If one wants to start anew, there's no need to carry the ashes of one's old life.

He turned around, straightened his back, and faced Sing Sing directly.

"I will not sign any indenture to your bureaucratic contracts."

"Don't worry, this is a legitimate and legal labor agreement. The price is clearly stated, and there's no deception." Sing Sing knew when to stop.

"The 749 Bureau would never do anything as unethical as withholding wages from its outsourced workers."

Wolverine raised an eyebrow and glanced at him sideways, his claws threatening to pierce his skin again.

"Got it, got it! Let's reach a verbal agreement on the trial period first!"

He quickly reviewed the back-and-forth negotiations in his mind.

This old wolf is truly impervious to both soft and hard tactics. To get him on board, you have to convince him that he has the right to choose a second way of life, aside from being a killing machine.

Sing Sing returned to his car.

Wolverine walked over, opened the other car door, and suddenly asked an extremely abrupt question.

Does your bureau's cafeteria serve drinks?

"China has countless fine wines, including Erguotou, Moutai, and Fenjiu. But rules are rules, and field staff must abide by the alcohol restriction regulations during their onboarding assessment period."

He drew out his words.

"Especially... anyone is strictly prohibited from sitting at the same table and drinking with that blue-skinned Spatial Teleportation."

Who is the blue-skinned, red-haired Spatial Teleportation?

"A drunkard, oh, now he drinks milk tea."

Wolverine didn't ask any further questions.

The night sky outside was high and desolate.

He leaned back in his chair, gazing at the intercontinental highway ahead.

"I'll go back with you, and just look around from here."

"If the work is too boring, I'll just walk away."