"Whether we add more money isn't up to me. Only the Sheriff can make that decision."
The Adjutant brushed back her long silver hair. She was currently directing the Synthezoids in disaster relief efforts, because Game Land had also been affected by the massive upheaval just now. "I'm not interested in money, and I've never carried any on me. You should discuss it with him directly afterward."
"Tsk, I don't want US Dollars anymore. Cosmic Voyage has already begun, and based on what I know about Cousin, changing the currency will definitely be his next move." Deadpool took off his pants and wrung the soup from his ass, speaking with a professional air. "But whatever. As long as it goes up by five hundred, any currency works. How's Cousin doing now?"
Anyway, by past custom, extra pay meant five hundred. Same as always.
Five hundred might not have sounded like much, but converted into loaded Mexican Burritos, it could buy over a hundred of them—enough to nearly pile up the huge table in the Justice League conference room.
"Contact was lost after he entered the Nightmare Dimension. It's a relatively sealed environment." The Adjutant folded her arms and turned her head away, refusing to watch Deadpool undress. "Our conventional communication methods all fail there. I'm having the Masters of the Council of the Sky research Dream Communication."
The Sheriff was in a dream, so naturally, the only way to find him was through dreams.
But there was another possibility. Before a new communication method could be developed, the Sheriff might already have slaughtered his way out himself. After all, his efficiency had always been exceptionally high.
Most matters could be settled in one night. If it was a World Annihilation Crisis, three days at most.
"Ha, so the end of