Trade

"Mr. Wade, your face has actually recovered?"

Wesley took one look and immediately showed a very surprised expression.

Two months ago, Wesley had sought out Deadpool. At the time, Deadpool had still had a loathsome moon face.

Yet two months later, it had completely healed!

That was unbelievable.

Wesley simply could not imagine that a face disfigured to that extent could actually be cured.

Had modern medicine really advanced to the point where it could do something like that?

Of course, what Wesley could not have known was that Deadpool had not recovered over two months, but in just one short day!

"Haha, that expression again! Even after seeing it so many times, it still brings me endless joy! I knew you'd make me take off my mask. I've been waiting for this moment."

"Well? Surprised?"

Deadpool lounged sideways in his chair, one leg crossed high over the other, pointing at Wesley as though he were watching a clown.

Wesley: "..."

He swore that if he were not such a civilized man, he would have shot this guy dead.

The bastard was just too fucking annoying.

"Congratulations, Mr. Wade. Now then, we can discuss business."

Wesley continued speaking to Deadpool in an expressionless tone.

"Wait a second. Aren't you curious how I did it? Aren't you curious where I got my face fixed? You're not following the script!"

Deadpool interrupted Wesley, shouting in obvious dissatisfaction.

He had originally planned to take the opportunity to promote the shop owner's services. The guy in front of him was nothing special, but there was a big shot behind him.

Definitely a rich man.

"Mr. Wade, may I be honest? This has nothing to do with me, so I'm not interested."

"Also, I would be very willing to get to know you better in private, Mr. Wade, but right now, we're discussing business."

Wesley solemnly reminded Deadpool.

"Okay, then let's talk business."

Deadpool spread his hands. This was a major client, after all. Better not piss him off.

"One price: one million dollars!" Deadpool said heavily.

"Mr. Wade, that is a very expensive quote."

"But I think we both know that my asking price isn't high, right? The losses Daredevil caused your boss are far greater than that!"

"You're right. So, Mr. Wade, as I said, price has never been a problem. As long as you bring us Daredevil's head, you'll receive the full million without a cent missing."

One million sounded like a lot, but to someone like Kingpin, it was not even a drop in the bucket.

Wesley could make that decision himself.

"Besides, if Mr. Wade needs it, we can lure Daredevil out for you," Wesley added.

Daredevil loved meddling in other people's business. Doing that would be far too easy.

"You really want Daredevil dead. He's unlucky to have offended people like you," Deadpool said sincerely. "But this part is free, right?"

"It's free, Mr. Wade."

"Your service really is excellent. In that case, of course I don't mind saving some money." Deadpool agreed without hesitation.

Intelligence gathering and investigation were actually rather expensive.

"Then, Mr. Wade, I suggest you stay in Hell's Kitchen tonight. I may contact you at any time," Wesley told Deadpool confidently.

They had dealt with Daredevil many times. More accurately, Daredevil had ruined far too many of their operations.

They knew Daredevil's patterns far too well.

How should he put it? Sometimes, the people who understood you best were your enemies. In some situations, that saying was indeed true.

"No problem. Your boss should own some high-end hotels too, right? So, can you reimburse my lodging?"

Deadpool truly had no idea what shame was.

"Simon." Wesley casually instructed one of the subordinates beside him.

The subordinate understood immediately and stepped forward, approaching Deadpool. "Mr. Wade, follow me."

He then led Deadpool away, disappearing into the night.

Meanwhile, Wesley took out his phone and dialed one number after another.

Hell's Kitchen, which had never been particularly peaceful, began to descend into even greater chaos.

"Help, help! Somebody save me!"

"Stop hitting me! Please, stop hitting me!"

"No, don't kill me! I can give you money!"

"You dare steal our stuff? Tired of living? Kill them!"

On the rooftop of a building along one of Hell's Kitchen's streets, a man wearing a black mask and a tight-fitting suit crouched at the highest point.

Yet his expression was far from calm. He even seemed somewhat irritated.

Tonight was especially chaotic!

Under his relentless crackdown, Hell's Kitchen had already improved considerably. The criminals who had once run rampant had restrained themselves, and many no longer dared come out to commit evil.

But who would have thought that in a single night, everything would return to square one?

The sounds of crime came from everywhere!

It seemed his previous efforts had not been forceful enough!

Daredevil's expression darkened, and something fierce flashed in his eyes.

Then, like an agile monkey, he raced swiftly across the uneven rooftops.

His figure was soon swallowed by the night and vanished from sight.

One criminal after another was knocked to the ground by Daredevil.

But suddenly, Daredevil stopped and sharply turned around, facing a certain direction.

His superhuman hearing had already detected that someone had been following him for two blocks.

"You noticed me just like that? Wow, you really are surprising!"

Along with that voice, a man in a red uniform with two swords strapped to his back leaped down from a nearby wall.

It was Deadpool.

Deadpool was genuinely surprised. He believed his tailing had been extremely discreet, yet he had failed to escape the other man's notice entirely.

No, not notice. Deadpool could see clearly that the guy's eyes were covered.

He had no "eyes."

A blindfolded man was actually this nimble and perceptive. Deadpool was truly curious how he managed it.

"You're not from Hell's Kitchen. Who are you?"

Daredevil "looked" at Deadpool and demanded in a low voice.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm a highly skilled mercenary who never misses. You can call me Deadpool. That's right, I'm here to kill you."

Leaning against the wall with his arms folded, Deadpool spoke as casually as if they were chatting about everyday matters. "And can you tell me why you cover your eyes? Are you blind or something? You don't look like it."

"Who sent you to kill me? Madame Gao, or Wilson Fisk?"

Daredevil ignored Deadpool and merely questioned him in a low voice.

If you like this book, remember to add it to your bookshelf so you won't have trouble finding it next time.