Many people say that New York is a city that never sleeps, its true splendor is revealed only under the dazzling lights of the night sky...
After leaving Stark's mansion, Sean sent Gwen ho and then drove alone along the highway. In the quiet night, his hands rested on the steering wheel as his consciousness extended outward.
The distant Hudson River shimred brilliantly, and the towering skyscrapers stood like a dense forest forged from steel.
As for the sudden ergence of Tony's Ultron project, after the initial surprise, Sean found it almost inevitable. Behind the flashy, arrogant exterior of Iron Man was a man that was deeply insecure.
In the original tiline, after the Battle of New York, Stark nearly developed anxiety. He even wished he could stay inside his armor twenty-four hours a day... as if that were the only way to grant him even a sliver of security.
The appearance of the Hulk shattered Tony's confidence. He began to realize that Iron Man alone wasn't enough to face the growing number of crises, hence the birth of the Ultron initiative.
Teaming up with Reed Richards, another top-tier genius, and using J.A.R.V.I.S. and the Red Queen as foundational fraworks... who knew what kind of monstrosity they would create? Sean was genuinely looking forward to it.
anwhile, S.H.I.E.L.D. was far from idle...
Nick Fury sensed an impending upheaval in the world and had already begun developing the Tesseract, with the Helicarrier project officially underway...
Clearly, the one-eyed director had a well-prepared plan, one intending to mold S.H.I.E.L.D. into the planet's true unshakable shield.
But while ideals were lofty, reality was harsh. The bald director had underestimated the new era that was coming...
Mutants divided into opposing factions, the Chitauri army bent on conquest, Loki the Asgardian prince with his penchant for chaos, the conflicts of the Nine Realms... such as the slumbering Dark Elves and the imprisoned Goddess of Death, Hela...
Of course, the greatest threat of all was the cosmic warlord who had spent his entire life collecting the six Infinity Stones. This was an enemy S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't possibly contend with.
Worse, the colossal Leviathan-like organization had long been thoroughly infiltrated by HYDRA, like a parasitic virus feeding off its host.
"The calm before the storm," Sean murmured softly.
The black car sped along the bustling highway. His ever-present psychic awareness suddenly twitched, and following the thread of his extended senses, he spotted a masked weirdo perched on the guardrail of an overpass.
Clad in red-and-black spandex, the man swung his legs casually, utterly unconcerned about the fatal drop below, while singing the obscenely lyrical 'Shoop', and his off-key voice drowned out by the roar of passing vehicles.
Sean's lips curled into a smile... 'Now here's an interesting fellow...'
He recognized this seemingly unhinged masked man... the twin katanas strapped to his back, the high-caliber pistols holstered at his thighs, the bulging ammo pouches at his waist...
If not for all that gear, one might mistake him for Spider-Man.
But this nutjob in spandex was no friendly neighborhood hero. He was a rcenary for hire, taking jobs from anyone, ard with the world's most relentless mouth and an absurd healing factor... a combination that gave even seasoned superheroes headaches.
His existence served as a reminder... running into an annoying lunatic wasn't the worst thing. The worst was being unable to shake him off, or kill him...
"Hey, buddy, is the view up there nice?" Sean called out as his car approached the overpass.
Though this masked weirdo was certifiably insane and an insufferable motormouth, Sean genuinely wanted to et the infamous Deadpool.
"Huh? Who's this guy who is not as handso, tall, or charismatic as ? Let think… don't recognize him. Wait, maybe I hooked him up at so bar." Deadpool burst into laughter, nodding approvingly, "Not as dashing as the great Deadpool, but looks loaded. Maybe he'll treat to a night in Brooklyn's red-light district! Two hot babes– no, two's not enough!"
Lost in his own world, Deadpool stretched, stood up, and then leapt off the overpass. He landed with a thud right in the passenger seat.
"Doesn't that hurt?" Sean gave him a strange look.
Thankfully, he'd already put the convertible's roof up, or this absurd rcenary might've shattered the windshield, turning this into a high-speed action sequence.
"Hurt? The great Deadpool doesn't feel pain! Wait, sothing's off… What was that cracking sound? Oh shit, my magnificent golden eggs! The landing was a bit off..." Deadpool's legs had landed squarely on the gearshift.
Given the velocity of his descent, the fate of those precious family jewels was… questionable. Just imagining it was enough to make any man wince.
"Hold on, let adjust. Feels like my balls got kicked into my throat, then my ass got violated by the gearstick. This concerns Vanessa's lifelong happiness!"
The rcenary squird in the cramped space, spouting nonsense as he struggled into a proper seated position.
"You're a superhero?" Sean asked, amused.
"I might be super, but I'm no hero. Pal, I'm the best damn rcenary in the universe, Deadpool! Got anyone you really hate? I can take 'em out for ya. Business has been slow lately, and since your car just butt-f*cked – wait, no, your gearstick did... I'll only charge you 50% extra!" Deadpool rambled, making bizarre gestures at passing cars.
"I appreciate the offer, but I've got as many friends as I have enemies. Best to leave things as they are," Sean said, shrugging with feigned regret.
He wasn't just ssing with this unpredictable rcenary out of boredom. Though Deadpool's incessant chatter was grating, his combat skills, swordsmanship, and insane healing factor made him a formidable opponent.
Getting to know him wasn't a bad idea...
"How about just 30% extra? Tis are tough, man. I was supposed to et so assholes here, but it's been four, five hours, yet there's no sign of 'em..."
Deadpool rummaged through his belt and pulled out a stack of poorly drawn cartoonish business cards. Flipping past one depicting a ridiculous mustachioed man, he stopped at another featuring a weirdly dressed guy in a suit.
"Wait, why do you look so familiar? Hold up... holy smokes, you're the second prize! God, Jesus Christ! You're the guy worth five million! Buddy, you're a walking stack of Benjamins!"
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