"Are you going to the battlefield?"
"As a mercenary, it's reasonable to have more weapons than just a pistol."
"Are you sure it's just a little more?"
Weasel swallowed nervously; he knew that Paul had a large amount of ammunition but didn't expect him to bring it all.
Paul said, "You have to know that our opponent this time is a mutant. We must not be negligent. These are good things that have been modified by me, and they can be used to deal with Francis and the others."
Hearing his words, Weasel picked up a pistol and examined it carefully.
"Isn't this just an ordinary M9 pistol? What's so special?"
Paul grinned and said proudly, "The most special thing about this pistol is that it has a fingerprint unlocking function. Only my fingerprint can be used to shoot. If the recognition is wrong..."
"What happens if the recognition is wrong?" Weasel asked curiously.
"It will explode in place."
Weasel: "???"
"Why didn't you say it earlier!?"
Seeing Weasel's face turn pale, Paul explained, "I haven't had time to activate the function of this pistol, so it won't explode yet."
Weasel immediately breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly returned the pistol to Paul, not daring to touch the pile of weapons again. Who knows what other weird weapons there might be.
Wade looked at the pile of guns and ammunition, obviously misunderstanding something, and thanked Paul: "You're still a good friend. We've slept together for over two months. I'll accept these friendship donations of yours. When I blow that dish soap's head off, I'll be the first to engrave your name on his tombstone!"
"You think too much. These are all my property; how could I give them to you for nothing?"
After some adjustments, Paul successfully activated the gun in his hand. "I mean, I'll go with you to deal with Francis."
Wade was stunned and looked at Paul. "I know you've done a lot of things recently, but what we have to face is a group of professional armed soldiers and a female tyrannosaur who can withstand bullets. These people can't be solved just by having more guns."
Paul didn't answer. Actions speak louder than words.
"Boom!"
Paul swung his arm violently, and a bullet escaped. Before Weasel could react, the bullet arced around him and hit the dartboard target behind him.
"Wardfack!?"
Weasel saw Paul shoot at him suddenly, so frightened that he subconsciously closed his eyes. But the expected pain did not come.
Weasel opened his eyes and found himself standing intact. He panicked and said, "I-I'm not dead? I clearly heard gunshots."
Wade looked at the hole in the dartboard target and said with an exaggerated expression, "I think I'm hallucinating. The bullet can actually turn? I guarantee Newton would jump out of his coffin if he saw this. What's the principle behind this? How did you do it?"
Paul explained, "The principle is simple. The moment the bullet is fired, the shooter rapidly flicks his wrist to give the bullet a horizontal acceleration, thus forming an arc. This is a gun-fighting technique."
To demonstrate, Paul swung his arm again and shot an arc-shaped bullet at Weasel.
Weasel: "..."
There's a self-healing person next door; why do you have to use me, an ordinary person, as a target?
"Very good, you're hired!"
Wade needed helpers urgently. Seeing that Paul was so impressive, he didn't care where the other party learned these new skills. He nodded and agreed to his joining.
Just then, Wade's cell phone vibrated suddenly.
"That dish soap sent a message!"
Wade looked at the content on the phone and said angrily, "Vanessa is in his hands, and he wants me to go to the waste recycling station at six o'clock tomorrow morning. This shit, doesn't he know it's hard to get a taxi at that time!?"
Weasel said, "It seems they have made preparations in advance, waiting for you to fall into the trap."
Without further ado, Paul grabbed the guns and ammunition on the ground and began to arm himself, confidently saying, "With the three of us, Francis is nothing to worry about!"
"Three people?" Weasel asked suspiciously, "Do you two still have a helper?"
"You don't think of yourself as a person?"
Paul had a surprised expression, as if he had heard something incredible.
Weasel's face darkened: "Do you have any misunderstandings about me? I'm a logistician, not a combatant!"
…
Ten minutes later.
Paul reappeared fully armed, standing in front of Weasel.
He wore tactical equipment, with a large-caliber revolver in the left and right holsters, a 12-gauge shotgun on his back, two rows of various ammunition across his chest, magazines in a waist pack, and large-caliber bullets.
Seeing this exaggerated attire, Weasel complained, "Isn't this equipment too much?"
"You can never have too much firepower."
As he said that, Paul seemed not very satisfied. He grabbed two grenades and stuffed them into his trouser pockets.
"..."
The corner of Weasel's mouth twitched as he watched. Wouldn't he panic with so much ammunition on his body?
Compared to Paul, Wade looked much cooler. He wore a black and red tight uniform, a red mask with panda eyes, and two Katanas pinned behind him. He looked quite relaxed, unlike Paul, who seemed uncomfortable with so much gear.
Wade looked at Paul's outfit, then at his own, and exclaimed, "We will definitely be the best combination. We should give ourselves a combination name. What do you think of the Deadpool alliance?"
"Not so good."
Paul looked disgusted and then offered his suggestion: "Anyway, we both have similar abilities, so we'll call ourselves the Immortal Duo!"
"Immortal Duo, this name is straightforward enough. I like it. So, it's settled!"