After insulting the construction skills of the seven Little Dwarves, the two brothers happily headed toward their shack.
Smoke was still drifting above the house, so they were probably cooking right now, weren't they? That was great. Maybe after killing them, they could even see how good their cooking was.
The trees near the river were somewhat sparse, mainly because the stones along the bank were unsuitable for tree growth. The little stream had merged with other streams and now become a small river, like the Timeline, forever surging forward and growing ever larger.
But the sound of the rushing river concealed Deadpool's somewhat heavy footsteps. He had never been the sort of assassin skilled at sneaking around, and his scent was also terribly detrimental to stealth.
Fortunately, the Dwarves inside were cooking with chopped onions today, so their sense of smell was temporarily impaired.
The two quickly reached the shack. There was no need to peer through the window; the darkness had already sensed the situation inside. One dwarf was humming as he cooked, while his companions seemed to have gone out.
Going by the original story, these Dwarves were quite idle. They liked nothing more than going out to chop down big trees every day. Maybe it simply was not time for them to get off work yet.
Perfect. A lone target, with his back to them, and his attention nowhere near keeping watch on the surroundings.
So Su Ming gave his cousin a tactical hand signal.
"Huh?"
Deadpool wore the same expression as the Confused White Cat meme. Under normal circumstances, he could understand a little, but the chickens' feeding routine earlier had been so stimulating that it triggered his brain cancer, causing him to temporarily forget that knowledge.
Speechless, Deathstroke rolled his eyes. He had originally