"Fucking idiot! If you want to die, die by yourself! I haven't lived long enough yet! You want an 'ending'? Here, catch it with your face! I'll give your grandma a leg!"
After delivering the most easily understood words possible to the Hand of the Void—a stream of colorful profanity—Deathstroke hurled his powerful weapon at it: Deadpool, who still had the Owl Dagger stuck in his belly.
Put simply, Strangle's attempt to pull out the dagger had only been for show. Its real mission was to hurl the bound Deadpool at the enemy the instant its host gave the order!
Deadpool was an ordinary person too, but as he himself had said, he had far more fans than DC had haters.
The Hand of the Void was a collection of malicious thoughts, hatred, and revulsion. What the audience gave Deadpool, meanwhile, was all love—or at least, he believed it was all love. Thus began the ultimate showdown between love and hate!
He and his cousin understood each other perfectly. There was rarely any need to assign him a specific task. Once he was thrown out there, he would know what to do.
"Gaea!"
Maintaining Ultraman's flying entrance pose, Deadpool raised a fist over his head and flew toward the pitch-black figure.
In midair, he took off his mask and even stripped off his shirt, exposing his rotten belly and the two blossoming points on his chest, as though he had syphilis.
"Bleurgh."
Whether the Hand of the Void had a stomach was another matter, but one undeniable fact was that it possessed human-like emotions.
That meant it was inevitably countered by Deadpool.
It was too disgusting. Especially when Wade started wriggling wildly in midair. Just before he came into contact with the Hand of the Void's gigantic face, he actually