Looking up at the sky, there were barely any stars in the pitch-black night, and the moon was hiding behind dark clouds. It was practically the perfect weather for doing bad things.
The Hands of Creation did not descend. Perhaps their existence came with certain restrictions, or perhaps they had not noticed Deadpool's comings and goings. After all, on the scale of the Multiverse, one person and one zombie were targets too insignificant to mention.
But that was undoubtedly an opportunity as well. The Mercenary was not afraid of enemies looking down on him—or rather, Wade preferred it that way.
"Not coming? You're really not giving me any face, huh? If Cousin were here, you guys would probably have panicked and come down to confront him already, right?" Deadpool stroked his chin, then vigorously picked his nose a few times before grinning wickedly at the night sky. "But you'll regret it. Once I start showing off the exquisite tea-making skills I learned from those Green Tea Bitches online, you'll understand how formidable Uncle Wade is."
"Roar."
Having arrived in an unfamiliar environment and caught the scent of living people lingering in the air, the Mushroom Zombies began to grow restless. Its cry seemed to be echoing Deadpool's words.
Of course, as the "tea leaves," it did not have much choice in the matter. But after it made a sound, Deadpool took it as a sign that it could not wait to get in the water.
"Good, good, very spirited! Don't rush, I'll take you to New York's biggest water treatment plant right now and let your bodily fluids and spores display their full power."
Rubbing his hands together expectantly, Wade hoisted the zombie onto his shoulder again and prepared to head down from the rooftop to hail a cab.
"Too