Chapter 8:"You and Freddy could be twins!"

Seeing Wade's terrifyingly disfigured face, Weasel gave up the idea of persuading him.

'No way, this face is too scary'.

Thinking of this, Weasel suddenly looked at Paul. "Wade, didn't you say that both of you have the same abilities? Why didn't his face change?"

After the two arrived, Wade had told Weasel everything, including their abilities. Wade assumed Paul had a genetic mutation just like himself.

In fact, Paul's ability was not derived from a mutant gene at all but from a super high school-level talent.

Paul explained while drinking his soda, "Actually, the cancer cells in Wade's body haven't been completely eliminated. They're just not as fast as the self-healing cells, so he's become what he is now. It's a delicate balance."

"Poor Wade, I can understand you," Weasel said, trying to sound sympathetic. "After all, you look like a cross between a mutant and an avocado. Anyone would be uncomfortable with that. But you can always explore other career paths. Maybe they need a new Freddy Krueger for a remake of Elm Street. You and Freddy could be twins!"

Weasel's words did nothing to comfort Wade and only fueled his anger.

"Enough!" Wade slammed the table and stood up. "I've changed my mind. Before I meet Vanessa, I have to find Francis, force him to fix my face, and then pay him back for everything he did. And then, I'll put a bullet in his head and use it as a masturbation cup!"

Weasel cringed. "Sorry, I didn't need to know that, and I certainly don't want to imagine it."

"But, does this Francis even know you're alive?" Weasel asked.

"No, he thinks we're both dead," Paul replied. He had heard Francis's final words before leaving, assuming Paul and Wade had died in the fire.

"As a friendly reminder, if you're going after Francis, disguise yourselves. Wear masks or something... Wade, I'm not targeting you, but your appearance is a bit too noticeable."

Wade wasn't offended. "You're right. I need a stage name, something like Captain America. How about Captain Wade?"

"That's awful," Weasel replied. "You might as well call yourself Captain Freddy. The enemies will think they're on the set of Elm Street when they see you."

"Let's just call it Deadpool," Paul suggested, pointing to the blackboard above the bar.

The blackboard displayed many names and bets. This was a mercenary bar tradition: betting on which mercenary would die first within a certain period. The winner would get double the prize.

At the top of the blackboard was a word in bold English.

DEADPOOL.

Wade's eyes lit up. "Deadpool, I like it! Okay, let's call it Deadpool!"

Paul then asked, "How do you plan to find Francis? That guy has run away, and the clues from the research institute have been burned. There shouldn't be any trace left."

"How do you think I got involved in that experiment in the first place?" Wade replied. "They need a lot of test subjects but have to recruit them secretly to avoid drawing attention. If we follow this clue, we'll find Francis sooner or later."

"Alright, then. Good luck. I'll help when the time comes," Paul said.

Paul didn't offer to help immediately, and Wade had no intention of asking him. While Paul had super self-healing abilities, his combat skills were lacking. This was America, where hot weapons were the norm, and as a top mercenary, Wade didn't need the help of a gun novice.

So, they tacitly avoided the topic.

For Paul, there was something more important than revenge on Francis: his identity.

As a time traveler, Paul was an undocumented person in this world. In America, where police often ask for identification, living a normal life might be a luxury for him without legal documents.

Now, Paul urgently needed legal identification.

As for how to get it...

Paul rubbed his chin and turned his gaze to Weasel. "I heard you're recruiting mercenaries here. Do you think I'm suitable?"