Before The Spectre hit the ground, Deadpool had already leaped off his massive body. Like a gymnast, he spun 720 degrees in midair, then followed it with two front flips.
A smile spread across his ruined face, as though he could already imagine himself landing perfectly, raising his arms and puffing out his chest as thunderous applause erupted around him and camera flashes kept going off.
"Crack."
Then, when he landed, his ankle snapped, and his entire foot twisted into an angle that looked painful just to see.
"Eww!" Seeing Wade's bone jutting out through the heel of his shoe, Harley shook her head regretfully. Everything had been going well until the curtain call went wrong, ruining the entire performance.
But Wade was not flustered in the slightest. He hopped over to Cousin on one foot, held out his little hand, and rubbed a few fingers together.
Never mind a broken leg—even if he died and was buried in a grave, he would still use his decaying voice to shout those words.
"Pay up."
"Put your mask back on first." Su Ming took out some paper and a pen from his belt pouch and wrote him an IOU, then pointed at his cousin's face as a reminder. "You can collect the cash from Adjutant or Gin when you get back. By the way, don't you spend money a little too fast? Where did all that money Doom gave you last time go?"
Wade accepted the slip and carefully tucked it into his underwear before complaining, "After I got the money from Doom that day, I was planning to celebrate by myself at Sister Margaret's Bar. I announced that Deadpool would cover the entire bar's expenses that night. So many people came over to toast me—it was a real party, packed