Multiverse: Deathstroke

Chapter 248: Ch.247 Deadpool’s Solution

Chapter 248: Ch.247 Deadpool's Solution

One week later.

Dr. Halloway and Monarch entered the room, flashing their torches as they handed a sandwich to Deadpool. Halloway stroked his small mustache and asked Deadpool, "Are they still fighting?"

The two were still flying around the factory, and everything around them had turned to dust. After a week had passed, not only had the factory floor sunk by several dozen meters, but the surrounding walls and equipment were all gone.

With the constant pummeling, everything had first turned into fragments and then into powder.

Deadpool, leaning limply against the wall like he had some sort of muscle disorder, was munching on the sandwich, mumbling through the bites, "Yep, still at it. They both have healing factors, so the fight is pretty intense. By the way, what's in this sandwich? Hummus? I think I'm allergic to that, but if my skin starts itching, at least I'll have something to scratch to pass the time."

As he said, both Su Ming and Mister Sinister showed no signs of weakening. Sinister's resilience came from Apocalypse's enhancements, and Su Ming's came from the energy of his X-metal.

At this point, Su Ming's bloodlust was running high, fueled by the symbiote's influence. All he wanted was to devour Mister Sinister.

Though he maintained basic rationality, how long that would last remained uncertain.

Even though the battlefield had turned into a massive pit and they were about to reach the underworld itself, Su Ming had no intention of stopping until Sinister surrendered.

At first, Su Ming thought Sinister wouldn't last long, given that Sinister was primarily a scientist, not a fighter, and his willpower wouldn't match that of a super soldier.

However, Su Ming underestimated Sinister's resolve. Despite the constant injuries and endless healing, Sinister kept retaliating and refused to surrender.

So, Su Ming was determined to keep going. "I've got X-metal, let's see how long you last, little worm."

After fighting for half an hour that first day, Monarch had realized it wasn't going to end anytime soon, so he and Dr. Halloway had gone to retrieve Namor's parts from the lab.

It turned out to be a left hand.

The hand had been severed with magic and preserved in a jar of green liquid—one of the Nazis' sorcerers' handiwork.

Monarch took the hand to Kamar-Taj for safekeeping, the safest place in the world. No sorcerer would dare try to steal something from under the Ancient One's nose.

Afterward, they watched the fight for three more hours.

There wasn't much to say—it was a brawler's slugfest. "I stab you, you hit me." Back and forth, seemingly without end.

After consulting Su Ming, they had left the scene, either to rest or to investigate the whereabouts of Namor's other parts, as they weren't needed here anymore.

In the meantime, they retrieved Deadpool's shattered body from the battlefield and pieced him back together, but Wade had refused to leave, insisting on staying to witness this "historic moment" as he put it, reasoning that the tide of battle could turn at any moment.

"You know how it is, like when you're at a game and a goal could happen at any time? You can't just leave for the bathroom; you might miss witnessing history in real-time."

That was Deadpool's rationale, though neither the doctor nor Monarch understood what was so "historic" about this.

The battle between the two immortals seemed mundane at best—blood spilled casually, chunks of flesh tossed around, with endless regeneration. Many times, Sinister's telekinesis would block the attacks of Su Ming's daggers.

The two were bouncing around the underground space like rubber balls, moving so fast that they were almost invisible.

Deadpool's old uniform lay discarded in the corner, while he lounged in the ruins wearing the silk pajamas Monarch had found for him. It was as if he was relaxing on a couch at home, sipping an energy drink and snacking on whatever the others brought him.

"Need some help?" Deadpool yawned, slapping his mouth. "Even WWE matches don't last this long."

"If you can get close, then yes," Su Ming replied as he headbutted Sinister. Sinister retaliated with a telekinetic blast, sending them both flying and smashing into a wall.

"Ah, you see, I wasn't doing nothing this whole time. I already have a solution."

"... You have a solution, and you didn't say anything earlier?! You crazy?!" Su Ming gritted his teeth, enduring the telekinetic impact, while the symbiote absorbed the force, keeping both of them tightly locked together.

Deadpool blinked. "Oh yeah, I've got cancer. But the thing is, it didn't beat me. It made me stronger!"

Mister Sinister, irritated beyond belief, turned and fired an energy beam at Deadpool, who dodged easily. The endless battle with Su Ming wasn't the worst part; it was having to endure the incessant blathering from this clown for the past week.

At first, Deadpool had mimicked a Spanish soccer announcer, then started impersonating a Mexican mariachi band to provide battle music. He had cycled through hundreds of annoying tricks. No one had acknowledged him, yet he kept talking 24/7.

It was pure torture.

This had been the most miserable seven days of Sinister's life. He wanted nothing more than to kill Deadpool, but Su Ming wouldn't let him go.

Su Ming grabbed Sinister's head, snapping it back with force as they both shot upward, crashing into the ceiling, sending dust and debris everywhere.

Fortunately, Sinister had no desire to expose the underground secret to the world, so he didn't apply much force upward. Instead, his telekinesis hurled them back down, deepening the pit further and cracking the ground.

Since telekinesis was driving their flight, Su Ming was the first to hit the ground, crashing hard. This stirred up his bloodlust even more, and the symbiote transformed into a liquid form, burrowing into Sinister's ears, making him scream in agony.

"If you have a plan, then act already! How long do you plan to watch the show?"

Deadpool shrugged, picking his nose through his mask. "Well, I'm not from this time period, and Monarch doesn't really know the black market here, so I had to make preparations, right, Doc? Oh, and cousin, by the way, I spent a lot of money—all from your company."

Halloway nodded wearily. Fortunately, Gin was efficient, releasing funds and manpower without question when she heard that the boss needed it. In wartime, getting your hands on these supplies wasn't easy.

"I spent the week synthesizing chloroform—trinitrochloromethane, to be precise—and some phosgene. I feel terrible about it," Halloway muttered darkly. He didn't enjoy applying his scientific knowledge this way, but as Deadpool had said, no one was going to die, and this was the fastest way to solve the problem.

Deadpool clapped Halloway on the shoulder, laughing slyly. "C'mon, it's just chemical warfare. Do you know how much money you could make with this skill? In a few decades, dictators and warlords would pay top dollar for your products. Ever considered a side gig as Breaking Bad's Walter White?"

Su Ming immediately understood Deadpool's plan. Unlike Halloway, he had no moral qualms. Both sides were in an enclosed space, and Sinister didn't have a gas mask. It would be a waste of the doctor's talent not to use chemical warfare.

Su Ming grabbed Sinister's neck, shaking his head violently like a rattle. "What are you waiting for? Do it!"

A gas attack—it was a good choice. It could very well be the last straw that broke Sinister's resolve. Even if his healing factor kept him alive, the sensation of suffocation from the gas would be unbearable.

Deadpool, despite his usual antics, was actually quite smart. Most of the time, he just chose not to use his brain. Whether he could defeat an enemy depended entirely on whether he wanted to.

Around the edge of the pit, the trio donned gas masks as people in hazmat suits arrived, pushing plastic barrels on flat carts. They navigated through the ruins of the battlefield to reach the pit's edge.

Meanwhile, Su Ming exerted his strength, and the symbiote morphed into hundreds of tentacles, spreading out like a spider's web as he tightened his grip on Sinister, pinning them both at the bottom of the pit.

The longer Namor stayed in the hands of the Germans, the bigger the future complications.

Su Ming was done dragging out this fight. He couldn't kill Sinister, but forcing him to surrender and locking him up in the London Sanctum sounded like a solid plan.