Deadpool knocked on the door. A mixed-race little girl with her hair in braids answered, and he quickly crouched down.
"Ellie, it's Dad."
"You finally came back. Mom is very sick, hurry."
Perhaps because of their blood bond, the little girl recognized him as always. She took his hand and hurried into the room, stopping beside a foul-smelling bed stained with water marks and filth.
Carmelita lay on it, in terrible condition. Even without looking at the mountain of medicine bottles by the bedside, it was clear that the Cancer Cells in her body had spread. Her whole body was beginning to rot.
Perhaps it was a final burst of vitality, but she happened to wake up just then. She sent Ellie away to do her homework, then coughed up blood and beckoned Deadpool over.
"Wade, I have sinned. There are things I have to tell you."
So she told him everything that had happened in the past—her story with him, and why they had ended up having a child.
As he listened to her story, Deadpool did not make any witty remarks or absurd jokes as he usually did. He merely stood silently beside the bed.
After finishing, Carmelita panted for quite a while before looking at Deadpool with pleading eyes. "The child is innocent. Can you take care of our daughter from now on?"
"No problem." Deadpool agreed immediately, though his tone was unnervingly calm. "I'll take good care of her."
But that tone made Carmelita uneasy. He was too calm. Mercenaries were usually rough or hot-tempered, and she had read all sorts of reports about Deadpool in the newspapers. Deadpool was known for being crazy, volatile, and foul-mouthed beyond measure.
Yet Deadpool was acting completely out of character, calm to a frightening degree.
She had stolen his