Since waking, Donald had not spoken another word beyond "Mr. Brad." Number One did not mind at all and used his magnetic field power to feed the Civilization's Killing Weapon Way he had developed directly into Donald's mind.
Then Number One gave Deadpool an order.
Teach Donald how to kill.
At first, Deadpool wanted to bargain with Number One. After all, Number One was not the Brad who paid his wages.
But under Number One's iron fists, Deadpool submitted.
The wonder of Dreamland lay in how, with a sufficiently powerful mind, you could influence its illusory reality to a certain extent.
Deadpool, for instance, had entered the dream after being knocked unconscious, yet still had his signature twin swords and pistols on him. Number One could also use his magnetic field power in Dreamland.
It worked exactly as it did in reality.
"So we still have to kill people in the end."
"Merciful Lord, forgive me. I listened to Brad's bullshit and actually thought we were here to save people."
After making a show of praying, Deadpool drew one of the swords from his back and handed it to Donald, hilt first.
Donald still looked confused. Though he said nothing, Deadpool carried on talking to him as if he could read his mind.
"Where are the people? Aren't they all over this city?"
"Those fake smiles make me sick. Get over there and chop them to pieces."
Donald took the sword and stood rooted to the spot. Deadpool pointed at him and added, "The more pieces, the better."
Then Deadpool raised a hand to shade his eyes and saw that Number One had leisurely found a lounge chair and was sunbathing on a patch of grass. He was just about to scurry over and join him.
A roar drew his