Personal Talent Showcase

He had neither a billionaire's wealth, nor the boost of a super serum, nor even alien blood. Worse still, he was completely cut off from the handsome looks that came standard with superheroes.

He was practically the textbook example of a tragic hero.

Wade Winston Wilson, former special forces soldier. To cure his cancer, he joined the Weapon X Program. He survived after being implanted with Wolverine's genes, but the price was **.

What he gained was astonishing durability and regeneration—he could recover even after being hacked into eight pieces, though he would be left with ugly scars.

A firearms master and an expert with dual blades. He had an unreliable teleportation belt that often left his arms or legs behind during transport, so it was basically just decoration...

No one could understand Deadpool's thought process. Professor X had once tried to read his mind, only to nearly have his brain burst from the overwhelming flood of information. His moves could never be predicted, because even he did not know what his next move would be.

What concerned Li Chen most was that this chatterbox who broke the fourth wall actually knew he lived in a comic book and could chat with readers at any time.

"Hi~ Mr. President of the League of Heroes!" Deadpool spun one of his blades. "Some organizations have been chasing me so relentlessly that I came here to take refuge."

"Want to know why they're after me? Ha! It's because they keep dragging my immortal body off to be sliced up and studied every day. It's driving me nuts!"

"That black bat beside you reminds me of the hard bread I had for breakfast... But as long as you pay, I'll take any job. Wait! Special services not included!"

That machine-gun barrage of dialogue finally made Li Chen understand why Spider-Man got along so well with this guy—they were both walking factories of nonsense!

"If he keeps talking, my temples are going to start throbbing." 097 rapped his knuckles against his tactical goggles with a sharp clack. Spider-Man suddenly jabbed his elbow into the ribs of the man in the red-and-black suit. "Focus on showing your core abilities. The League's membership assessment isn't a stand-up comedy show."

Deadpool froze as though someone had pressed pause, then dramatically smacked his own mask. "Damn! I nearly left the important business back in the Sahara!" He spun in place like a ballerina. "My résumé is simple: the first line says certified immortal body, and the second is human body separation magic—note that it can only be used on myself."

"Additional talents include, but are not limited to: **digestive tract endoscopy performances and human dissection art exhibitions." As he spoke, he suddenly pulled out a thread-bound ancient book from behind his waist. "I recently traveled to China in a parallel universe to study under a master, but..." His hand stopped as he flipped through the yellowed pages. "I couldn't find any League of Heroes registration records in any universe."

Li Chen's pupils narrowed slightly. Only he understood that this madman in red-and-black tights might have torn through the dimensional barrier—those bizarre lines were clearly memes transported from the real world. As for the League of Heroes? Whether in the Marvel Cinematic Universe or the main Earth-616 universe, such an organization had never existed.

"Next up is the personal talent showcase!" Deadpool suddenly pulled a Spalding basketball from his pocket, while a Sony radio slid out of the pocket on his other side. That seemingly ordinary tactical pocket appeared to connect to a quantum storage space.

"Please allow me to introduce myself—" He planted one foot on the basketball and struck a pose worthy of an opera house debut. "A super trainee from Vancouver, Canada, with professional expertise in vocal music, modern dance, freestyle rap, and NBA special training!"

When the hypnotic melody of Chicken You Too Beautiful blasted out, Deadpool's pelvis began swinging at a frequency that violated all human ergonomics. The orange-red basketball left afterimages between his legs, and his professional-level dribbling paired with those aggressively suggestive dance moves perfectly recreated a certain basketball idol immortalized by the internet.

"Baby baby baby baby baby—!"

Within three seconds, the air in the entire hall froze solid. Iron Man's faceplate automatically opened, revealing the twitching corner of his mouth. Batman's cape stiffened like a sheet of steel, while Spider-Man's fingers remained stuck on the radio switch, forgotten.

"Stop this mental pollution immediately!" Spider-Man's ** had cracked as he shouted, and his palm slammed heavily onto the pause button. The dribbling skills of a professional player barely counted as a plus, but those pretzel-like movements would definitely make the judges hold up red cards in unison.

The League of Heroes' rankings only looked at strength and achievements. Even if your basketball skills could crush James, it would mean nothing. "I'm performing my talent. Wasn't it amazing?"

"Amazing my ass. You play basketball like a woman."

"Everyone says that."

"Who taught you those moves?!"

"From another world," Deadpool answered carelessly. "Let me introduce this superstar who 'heals the sick and saves lives'~"

"A superstar?"

Spider-Man, Peter Parker, looked utterly bewildered. He was completely unfamiliar with that title. Besides, he never followed celebrities and knew nothing about the entertainment industry. And the phrase "heals the sick and saves lives" had nothing to do with a star no matter how he thought about it.

"I heard there was someone who always hated celebrities, but made an exception for that man because he really had saved lives."

"That day, many food poisoning victims were brought to the hospital too late and had already missed the best window for treatment. Just when they were on the verge of death, that man's dancing made them vomit on the spot."

"And so, everyone was saved. Later, they all joined the Chicken You Too Beautiful Fan Club."

Although he did not really understand it, Spider-Man felt that this superstar truly had something special. An ordinary person's dancing could not make poisoned patients vomit everything in their stomachs. From a certain angle, it really was a genius solution to food poisoning.

"Wait, President, Deadpool hasn't shown his true strength yet."

"Alright, alright, I get it."

"President, give him another chance."

"It's fine. I agree to let him join."

"Really?!"

Spider-Man was somewhat surprised. He had assumed that after Deadpool's earlier performance, there was no way he could pass the League of Heroes' evaluation—the sight had been downright painful to watch.

But Peter was actually looking forward to becoming coworkers with this guy he had just met yet somehow clicked with. It would also help him avoid ** police pursuit. After all, asking the League of Heroes to hand someone over? Even ** and the entire world combined would not be enough.

"Take it."

Li Chen casually tossed Deadpool a member's wristband. Getting Batman and Deadpool for free was no loss. For the currently understaffed League of Heroes, they were decent additions to its fighting force.

"Peter, are you free lately?"

"Today's Friday, so I have the weekend off. Is there a mission, President?"

(

"This mission is extremely serious. One wrong move could trigger a global disaster."

"Is it really that serious..."

Peter Parker, otherwise known as Spider-Man, grew solemn. This burden was a little too heavy for him. After all, his previous missions had only involved fighting street criminals, helping the elderly, or dealing with minor monsters. His greatest achievement had merely been temporarily suppressing the Demon-level Disaster, Deep Sea King.

"If it's a crisis that could affect the entire world, shouldn't ** or an S-Class Hero handle it?"

"No. It will only become a global event after it spreads completely. During the early stages, it can still be contained."

"What exactly is going on, President?"

As the person who had recommended Spider-Man to the League of Heroes, Tony Stark, Iron Man, asked the question. Since he had brought this young man into the League, he naturally had to take responsibility for his safety. After all, Peter should not have had to face such a dangerous threat.

"You're all familiar with biological weapons, right?"

"Wait, don't tell me some mad scientist is developing that kind of weapon, just like in the movies?"

"That's right, and it has already been developed. It could be deployed at any moment."

"If it only has the level of combat power seen in movies, the problem won't be too serious. The troublesome part is its infectiousness."

Tony stroked his short beard and analyzed the matter calmly. This had to be stopped as soon as possible. Otherwise, if it erupted like Resident Evil, the consequences would be unimaginable.

"Besides me, will other heroes be participating?" Spider-Man, Peter Parker, asked. "To be honest... I might not be able to handle it alone."

If they failed, tens of billions of people might die. Therefore, he did not dare act overconfidently. Having a few more reliable teammates would naturally be better.

Li Chen understood Spider-Man's concerns. After all, he was still a high school student, and carrying out such a mission alone would be too risky.

"Iron Man, Batman, Deadpool." Li Chen named several heroes. "Do you have anyone else to recommend?"

"I have an important source of clues on my side, someone willing to atone for her past—Catwoman, a world-class thief."

"Mumen Rider would be a good choice as well. He can assist us."

"Approved. Mumen Rider should be patrolling the streets of New York right now. Find him, then head immediately to Raccoon City."

...On the streets of New York, a crowd had gathered, seemingly watching some excitement.

Riding a bicycle with Doran's Shield strapped to his back, Mumen Rider stopped during his patrol and looked toward the crowd.

The entrance to the bank was a chaotic mess. Could someone be **?

Seeing this, Mumen Rider immediately braked his bicycle, grabbed Doran's Shield, and rushed over.

"What happened? Is it a bank robbery or a monster **?"

"Oh, Mumen Rider!"

"Don't panic. There are no robbers or monsters."

"Some guy dressed like a bat is fighting with Iron Man."

"Huh?"

"Look! They're butting heads. It's really something."

"..."

Mumen Rider was full of question marks as he stood on tiptoe and peered over the crowd.

Batman stood there in his cape while Iron Man wore his armor, the two glaring at each other in front of the bank. The smell of ** was so strong that even passing dogs could detect it.

When others were around, the two could still put on an act. But whenever no one was watching, they would immediately argue red-faced over childish topics like who was richer.

"Listen up, little bat. Stark Industries is the real **."

"Give me a break. Wayne Enterprises' underground vault alone could knock you unconscious."

"I'm fourth on the Forbes list, and you're seventh!"

"That trash ranking didn't even assess my family's **!"

The onlookers were more excited than the people involved, almost ready to start taking bets—though everyone wagered on Iron Man, since Batman only operated in Gotham. How could he compare to the popularity of the Avengers' top star?

"What are those two... doing?"

"They're competing to see whose wallet is thicker. It's childish as hell."

Mumen Rider finally squeezed his way to the front row. Just as he was about to ask Spider-Man, Deadpool suddenly cut in.

"I say they should just take out cash and throw it at each other. Wouldn't that be satisfying?" The moment that snarky remark left his mouth, the two wealthy men actually called over ten strong men to withdraw money on the spot, offering the absurdly high moving fee of ten thousand dollars per hour.

In just ten minutes, mountains of U.S. dollars had piled up at Batman and Iron Man's feet. "What exactly are they doing?" Mumen Rider sighed, rubbing his forehead.

Iron Man, normally so shrewd, was actually taking this childish game seriously. Could this be the legendary clash of incompatible personalities? Like Akainu and Kizaru at Marine Headquarters, who were simply born to be at odds.

"Look carefully, kid. This is one hundred thousand dollars." Iron Man tossed the bills into the air, and his repulsor cannon fired with a thunderous blast. The banknotes instantly turned to ash. "Now it's gone. What about it?"

Batman snorted and pulled a miniature flamethrower from his utility belt, bathing the millions in cash behind him in flames. "I can bury you in money."

The bills flew at the other man's face like snowflakes, and the two billionaires publicly began a "money war." Ordinary people could never imagine that the joy of the rich could be so plain and unpretentious.

Although the onlookers' eyes burned with envy, no one dared entertain any crooked ideas—in the United States, robbing that amount of money meant legally getting shot.

"Stop this farce."

"Don't rush. This isn't a farce."

"Other than disrupting public order, what meaning does throwing money around have?"

"Of course it has meaning."

Deadpool suddenly saw golden light flashing before his eyes. In a single stride, he rushed into the scene, dropped to his knees, and frantically scooped up money. The sensation of green U.S. bills brushing through his fingers made him so happy he nearly fainted.

Money! It was all money!