A few minutes later, the bedroom door opened, and the professor's wheelchair rolled in. The bald old man wore his usual gentle smile.
Although Deadpool's values were completely different from his, he had to admit that Professor X truly was a great man.
Setting aside whether he was good or evil, and whether his inner self was as righteous as he appeared, there was no denying that he had always led the X-Men in doing great work.
Wade raised a hand and greeted him solemnly. "Yo, big nephew, you're here."
Charles wasn't angry. He merely smiled at Wade. "I do call your Cousin uncle, but he isn't you. Let's keep our relationships separate. Just call me Professor."
Wade sighed. No matter where he went in this world, there was always the shadow of Cousin. He felt as though he were living in the middle of a giant web, forever beneath a dark shadow.
Still, having acquaintances made things easier, didn't it?
So he quickly explained his predicament to Professor X in rap-like speech, while Charles listened patiently.
Even though the X-Men behind him glared furiously at Deadpool—after all, he had injured Logan earlier—the professor made no statement, so they remained disciplined and didn't interrupt.
The professor kept nodding and occasionally asked a few questions. But after Wade finished explaining everything and looked at him with pleading eyes, he shook his head.
"Sorry, Wade. I can't help you."
The evening breeze stirred the curtains, and Wade felt a chill run down his back. The despair in his heart grew a little deeper.
"Why, Professor? I just want to find my daughter. Please!"
"It isn't that I don't want to help you. It's that I can't." The professor lifted a hand from the wheelchair armrest and pressed it down gently a few