"This is my home. I also have a houseboat, but there's not much furniture over there, so it wouldn't be convenient for entertaining you."
Mouse's voice returned to that of an ordinary middle-aged man. He hopped onto a nearby sofa and leaned back, thumping his knees a few times with his hand. "Rest for a while. Have some snacks. I've got everything here, as long as you can name it."
"It's no fun eating by myself, Mouse. I want a few beauties to feed me. Heh heh!" Deadpool immediately made his request, apparently unfamiliar with the concept of politeness. He was practically drooling.
Mouse readily nodded in agreement. With a clap of his hands, he summoned a flock of hens. "Someone come feed Master Deadpool some pastries."
Those oversized hens were built like ostriches and wore maid outfits. They looked rather strange, but they really did know how to serve people.
Once they surrounded Deadpool, they used their wings to scoop up the pastries from the coffee table. They pulled off Deadpool's mask and stuffed the food into his mouth, seemingly completely immune to the conceptual attack of Disgust.
"Mmph! Help! Waaah! They aren't even mammals! So hot! Noooo!"
Deadpool let out a miserable scream amid the encircling hens. It seemed he was not blessed enough to enjoy such treatment.
Forget him—even Su Ming suspected he would be unable to accept being fed by hens. No normal person could.
But this meant the idiot would not interrupt his conversation with Mouse for the time being. It was nice to have him quiet for a while, so his malicious cousin pretended not to hear the cries for help and cleared his throat. "Ahem. Brother Mouse, let's continue our earlier discussion. Tell us which target you want us to deal with. Since