Multiverse: Deathstroke

Chapter 170: Ch.169 Guidance

Chapter 170: Ch.169 Guidance

The car was warm, but Bucky felt cold inside. He squeezed his legs together, trying to figure out how to get both of them out of this situation.

"Maybe I could escape on my own, but Steve..."

Bucky's face showed his distress. He couldn't leave his friend behind. It seemed he had no choice but to sacrifice himself to protect Steve. He just hoped it wouldn't hurt too much.

For his best friend, young Bucky's eyes grew resolute.

Meanwhile, Steve, whose mind wasn't filled with such chaotic thoughts, was eagerly examining the car's interior.

There were many things he had never seen before. The car even had a table, a bar, and a sofa so large it was almost like a bed.

"You said you know our fathers, but..." Steve was curious for a while before finally hesitating to ask.

"Why do I have money while they don't?"

Su Ming smiled as he poured himself a glass of liquor, swirling it gently, inhaling its rich aroma. He hadn't expected Steve to be concerned with something like this.

"No, I mean, their previous boss never even looked at them."

Steve shook his head. Being a child, his senses were even sharper. His father's previous boss had always looked at them as if they were already dead, with disdain and prejudice.

Su Ming nodded slightly. Such self-proclaimed noble capitalists indeed existed, though they were probably long gone by now.

To openly discriminate against others just because of wealth was often a sign of extreme arrogance. Surviving the stock market crash and the Great Depression required extreme calmness and rationality—quite the opposite.

Extremely arrogant people, when faced with great setbacks, often react to the outside world with extreme measures. And in these times, what could that be? Jumping from a building.

"People are born unequal, but ordinary life makes everyone equal."

Although Steve didn't understand, Su Ming didn't plan to explain. When they became extraordinary individuals in the future, they would understand.

He hoped for more people like Captain America—those who exist to benefit others without seeking personal gain. The future would be dull without heroes.

By the way, should he consider grooming his little cousin to become a great man? Why be a mercenary? One mercenary in the world—himself—was enough, right?

Imagining Deadpool in a sharp suit, wearing a red and black mask, giving a speech on the White House lawn, Su Ming shuddered.

He couldn't think about that—it was mental pollution.

It was best not to mess things up. If he altered the storyline too much, it could become a problem.

"So, sir, how should we address you?" Steve looked at Su Ming, asking a question.

"My name is Slade Wilson. Wilson Enterprises is my business, and we'll have many more opportunities to work together in the future," Su Ming said, his words carrying deeper meaning.

Of course, he was referring more to his other identity and the days they would spend together when Deathstroke returned to the scene. That day was drawing closer.

But his expression, full of 'good intentions,' only made Bucky clutch his rear even tighter. The pastors all smiled like that.

"So, Mr. Wilson, what's our job today?"

Steve glanced at Bucky in confusion. Ever since they got into the car, he had been hanging his head, doing who knows what. That was rude, so Steve felt compelled to keep the conversation going with Su Ming.

"Well, today, you'll be running errands with me. I bought a piece of land in Long Island to build the company headquarters, and I'm planning to check on the construction site."

"Okay, just let us know what to do. We're both very capable, right, Bucky?"

"Uh, yeah, right," Bucky replied, snapping back to reality, though still somewhat hesitant.

This snapped him out of his wild thoughts. He realized that although the car had left the docks, it was still traveling along a wide seaside road, with no signs of heading to a church.

It seemed he was overthinking it. After all, this boss wasn't a pastor. He just needed to stay away from clergy in the future, especially those from mysterious religions worshiping strange creatures.

Particularly those with two-headed dragons or three-headed dogs.

With the tension easing, Bucky gradually became more lively. Su Ming offered them soda and cookies from the car as they headed toward the construction site.

As they passed by a street corner, Su Ming ordered the driver to stop. He rolled down the window, letting in a cold breeze that made Steve and Bucky shiver.

"Do you see over there?"

"Yes," Steve and Bucky both nodded.

"What do you see?" Su Ming lit a cigar, asking them an obvious question.

It was a group of people with numb expressions, huddled around a metal barrel, burning something to keep warm. Each person looked as though their soul had left them, as if they had lost everything.

Steve and Bucky exchanged glances, their faces showing sadness.

"We call them 'the Walking Dead.' That's what Bucky and I call them."

"Yes, Mr. Wilson, these people look alive, but they have no soul," Bucky added, even making the sign of the cross as if praying for their peace.

Captain America had just surprised Su Ming. He hadn't expected the term "Walking Dead" to be coined by these two in this world.

Hollywood wasn't as prosperous as it would be in the future. Charlie Chaplin had only started making films a few years ago, and most movies being shown were from France and other European countries.

"They haven't lost their souls; they've lost hope and faith. Only with faith can one truly live," Su Ming said as he rolled up the window, offering them some philosophical wisdom. "Gin, remember this concept of the Walking Dead. Arrange for someone in Hollywood to prepare a script, and buy a film company as a backup."

"Yes, boss."

Su Ming looked back at the two boys, showing his approval, while they were deep in thought about the connection between souls and hope.

"You've coined a good term. I'm pleased. After we're done here, I'll take you both out for a nice meal."

Steve and Bucky high-fived, grinning from ear to ear. "Yeah! Thank you, Mr. Wilson."

The car continued its smooth ride, and Su Ming casually asked them about their families. Upon learning that Steve's mother was sick, he generously offered to advance some of Joseph's salary so Steve's mother could rest for a while.

This earned even more gratitude from Steve, and both he and Bucky grew closer to Su Ming.

The car eventually arrived in Long Island, reaching the spot Su Ming had chosen.

There was a reason he had chosen this location, primarily because it was remote enough.

In the future, Manhattan would be under constant repair. The area around Stark Tower, and later the Avengers Tower, would become a disaster zone. Su Ming decided to set his headquarters in the farthest part of Long Island to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

They didn't get out of the car immediately. Instead, Su Ming left Gin at the construction site to handle matters while he rolled down the window again, asking them to observe the workers and compare them to the people they had seen earlier.

Of course, it was different. Although it was almost December, and the temperature wasn't ideal for construction—cement and concrete could freeze—laying the foundation and making other preparations was still possible.

The weather was cold, but these workers were full of energy. They were alive, just like the people at the docks earlier. Although their expressions were mostly serious or focused, these were still human expressions.

"I get it, Mr. Wilson. You mean that working hard gives people hope and faith, and those are what make them truly alive."

Steve understood now. This new boss was a good man, teaching them life lessons, much like his own father.

Su Ming smiled without saying anything. His intention was to let them guess, but he liked this positive interpretation.