After the gorilla went to ask Papa Midnite for however many crates of good liquor, the skeletons and Zombies on the battlefield all returned underground. All that remained were scattered monsters in the woods and a few rather pitiful-looking dragons in the sky.
Blackfire and Dex-Starr immediately felt the pressure ease, while Deadpool had already put away his weapons and started walking toward his Cousin. The only unhappy one was probably Harley, whose red-hot gun barrel drooped in her hand.
There were too few enemies; the game was not difficult enough. She thought it was no fun anymore.
"Finally got to stretch my muscles a little. After all, Cousin hired me, so I can't exactly take his money for nothing, right?" Deadpool said as he twisted his butt and strutted toward Deathstroke like a racewalker, turning his head to speak to empty air. "Still, I don't really like dealing with magic. The way that kind of energy gets used makes no sense at all. Hm? Who said I was scared? I'm the protagonist, okay? Where are the mods? Ban that troll for me. Wait, he sent a gift. Don't do anything yet; let me butter him up first."
As he spoke, the two white eye patches on Deadpool's mask suddenly narrowed to slits, and the corners of his mouth curled up.
Because he had passed by the fallen Witch Boy.
Wade, who had been moving forward with both fists at his waist and constantly wiggling, stopped. He crouched down to examine the corpse on the ground, as though he were very interested in the blue-skinned boy.
After looking for a few moments, he reached out and tousled the other's hair. Wade sighed and shook his head.
"DC really is dark. Even a kid this young is suffering from such severe