Director, I Want to Join the Avengers

Skyscrapers and bustling traffic—this is New York City, a city that never sleeps, brightly lit and vibrant.

At night, neon lights flicker and lights dazzle, crowds throng and flow like a tide through the streets and alleys, the prosperity weaving together a colorful tapestry that attracts wave after wave of dream chasers.

But behind this glitz and glamour, many streets and alleys are filthy and dirty, and in some places, even when the streetlights are broken, no one cares.

Russell leaned against the alley entrance, lit a cigarette, and frowned as he pondered the upcoming World Quest.

Pressure is the driving force. Because of Dormammu, he desperately needs a Character Card with explosive combat power, or Skill Card or Item Card with incredible abilities.

When Russo first discovered it was Spider-Man universe, Russell was disappointed. None of the characters in the trilogy were any good, not even enough to Dormammu. But the appearance of Deadpool gave him hope.

By freely traveling to other worlds, as long as Russell suppresses his desire to not complete the mission and travels through several worlds with Deadpool, there will always be one or two opportunities to encounter a powerful figure.

The idea is good, but there is a fatal problem: Deadpool is unreliable and acts on a whim, so he can't possibly listen to orders obediently.

"Hey buddy, sorry to keep you waiting. You know, with my abilities, it's impossible for it to take less than half an hour." Deadpool walked out of the alley, straightened his new clothes, and put on his hat.

Being poorly clothed is a bad habit, so he borrowed a set from several gangsters: riding boots, trousers, a leather jacket, and a cowboy hat, making him look exactly like a ruthless outlaw... a bodyguard.

"Let's go back first and talk about it then."

Russell took Deadpool's equipment from his Space Ring —dual swords, dual pistols, and Venom encased in a water sphere—and threw it all into the other's arms.

Deadpool, clutching his gear, faced Russell and walked backwards. "While I'm more interested in the $100,000, now that we've entered into a hiring agreement, shouldn't you tell me your name?"

"My name is Russell, and I am..."

Splash!

Swords, guns, and water balloons fell to the ground. Deadpool covered his face with his hands, exclaiming in disbelief, "My God! You're Russell! You're Russell! Dude, oh wait, I mean Fire Fist, you've grown so much?"

"Wait a minute! The actor who plays Fire Fist is from New Zealand, while you are Asian."

"I'm not that chubby kid." Russell rolled his eyes, stepped on the water balloon on the ground, and Venom, having acquired a new round and cuddly home, tried to roll away but failed.

Russell thought the topic would be over after the clarification, but he underestimated Deadpool's neuroticism. Deadpool jumped up, spun around three times after landing, and then put his hand on the wall to strike a pose.

"I know, your name is Russell, you must be the director of the Avengers!"

Russell: "..."

"Director, do you think I can join the Avengers?"

Deadpool raised his hand to smooth the brim of his cowboy hat, feeling something was missing. He snatched a half-smoked cigarette butt from Russell's hand, took a deep drag, and exhaled a smoke ring, saying in a deep voice, "I heard Robert Downey Jr. is Deadpool. The Avengers need a new A-list big shot to save them, like me. The first Deadpool movie had a budget of $58 million and grossed nearly $800 million worldwide. You deserve it."

Russell: "..."

Deadpool sighed, "It's a shame Scarlett John is dead too. We loved each other so much, but we can't team up on the big screen again. Director, you'll bring her back to life, won't you?"

Russell: "..."

Deadpool picked up a cigarette butt, twisted it against the wall, and darted over to Russell's side, whispering, "Director, I know the rules, you can rest assured, my salary is super cheap. And I'm my own agent, signing a contract for 10 movies right away is no problem, um, 20 is negotiable."

There were too many factors to discuss, Russell didn't know where to begin. He pushed away Deadpool's arm that was on his shoulder and said, "No, you're too ugly!"

"What!?"

Deadpool was furious. He grabbed Russell's arm and rambled on, "Director, I thought you were a person who valued substance, but I didn't expect you to be so shallow."

"Sorry, it's not me who's superficial, it's the audience. I'm a commercial filmmaker, and commercial films are all about making money and making the audience happy, so I make whatever they want to see."

"That's right, my fans like me, and I make a lot of money."

"That's because they've never seen such sluts on the big screen. Once they get used to it, you'll lose your market."

"Impossible! I'll always be more despicable than they imagine!"

"..."

What Russell really wanted to complain about was that Deadpool, who is so ugly, could actually time travel.

This is not unfounded; reality is indeed very cruel.

These days, time travelers must be handsome men and beautiful women. Even if they were ugly in their previous lives, they must still be good-looking after time travel, otherwise the audience or readers will not be able to relate to the story. After all, no one is bad-looking in real life.

Deadpool kept chattering away the whole way, and Russell, unable to bear it any longer, hailed a taxi, but it was to no avail. The driver refused to take him halfway, and Deadpool refused to touch the steering wheel, even if it Deadpool, unless he got out of the car.

Having finally returned home, Russell understood why Deadpool, despite saving the world multiple times, was still disliked by the other heroes. According to relativity, being with Deadpool for a day is equivalent to a year—a form of mental torture.

"Here's $100,000. We won't sign the contract; it's pointless anyway. I'll give you another $100,000 after it's done." Russell counted out ten stacks of bills from behind the bedside table and slammed them into Deadpool's face.

The latter picked up the banknotes, his expression shifting between anger and uncertainty. It wasn't because Russell had trampled on his pride, but because he saw a lot of banknotes behind the bedside table and felt he had made a bad deal.

"Dude...no, boss, you might have misunderstood something." Deadpool stuffed the money into his pocket and shamelessly said, "I mean, $100,000 per world. The money you're giving me will only allow you to travel through time once."

"100,000 US dollars per time?" Russell frowned as he looked at Deadpool, his eyes gleaming.

Deadpool tightened his grip on the cash in his pocket. "Boss, if you're not satisfied with the price, you can get an annual membership and enjoy a 50% discount on your second time travel."

"No need for an annual membership, $100,000 a time is no problem. My previous promise remains unchanged; I will add another $100,000 after the deal is done." Russell's lips curled slightly. Deadpool was unreliable, but money could make him reliable.

Deadpool was overjoyed upon hearing this. "God, the way you spend money is so cool, it makes my heart race, and your profile silhouette has increased by a full 20 centimeters!"

Russell chuckled, picked up a lighter, lit a wad of dollars, and then used it to light a cigarette. "Wilson, if..."

Deadpool straightened his back, head held high, and said, "Boss, you can just call me Wade."

"Wade, if you can sew your mouth back up, I'll pay you $200,000 a time. I'm not short of money!"

"Well..."

Deadpool bit his nails, caught in a dilemma. After a long while, he finally made up his mind and said, "Boss, I know you're rich, but I prefer to do business worth $100,000."

After saying this, Deadpool closed his eyes in anguish, and two tear tracks slid down his muscular face.

He regretted it. He had finally met a sucker, and he shouldn't have made such a firm decision in the first place. He should have tried to bargain!

This situation is similar to when a Middle Eastern tycoon imported daily necessities from a certain country, and that country quoted what it considered an outrageous price, which the Middle Eastern tycoon agreed to without hesitation.

A certain country felt the quoted price was too low, so it hurriedly added "US dollars," leaving the Middle Eastern tycoon bewildered. Don't import and export businesses usually settle accounts in US dollars?

Heartbroken, Deadpool turns on the TV, intending to find unfortunate souls on the news and soothe his wounded Mind Stone with the suffering of others.

"Wade, the bill's settled. When are we heading to the next world?" Russell stacked up the stacks of US dollars and put them into his Space Ring. He'd thought they were just useless scraps of paper, but they'd actually come in handy.

"At any time..."

Deadpool suddenly stopped talking because a TV news broadcast interrupted the conversation, showing Doctor Octopus battling Spider-Man, with Doctor Octopus ultimately using hostages to escape.

After reading the news, Deadpool said with a serious face, "Boss, I have a dream."

Russell: "..."