Kino and Venom arrived at Banner's laboratory. Before they even reached the door, they could already hear a commotion inside.
"Doctor, you have to save me."
"I'm not a doctor. You can call me Dr. Banner."
"Alright, Dr. Banner, can you still save me? If not, please donate my little brother—he hasn't had enough fun yet."
"Shut up! You're not even dead yet, and who would want that thing anyway?"
"But Dr. Banner, I can't feel my body. I'm probably paralyzed. And that is the Rotating Accelerating Jet-Armstrong Cannon—I've been using it for twenty years, and it's still as good as new."
"I…"
Kino shook his head helplessly and pushed the door open.
Banner was holding an iron rod, apparently about to smash something. When he saw Kino and Venom enter, he put the rod down.
"Young Master, Madam, you're here."
"Banner, how is he?" Kino asked.
Pushing his glasses up, Banner began to report the findings from his night's research.
"This guy's body is quite peculiar. Cancer cells and a healing factor coexist, creating a strange balance that grants him powerful regenerative abilities. However, because the healing factor is an external modification and hasn't undergone genetic adjustments, it has integrated into his genes in a crude and violent manner. This causes the healing factor and the cancer cells to constantly clash, resulting in severe disfigurement."
Kino looked toward the lab bench. There lay Deadpool, completely naked except for a white cloth covering his lower body. A metal needle was pierced into the back of his neck, inhibiting his nervous system from regenerating.
"Wade, aren't you going to say hello to your fan?"
"A name like Wade must belong to a handsome guy—probably a big celebrity. Though, hearing you call me that makes me quite happy. But I'm Deadpool, you've got the wrong person."
Deadpool kept babbling, wearing his usual flippant expression. However, his eyes betrayed pain and humiliation.
Venom tilted her head.
"Someone who talks this much must be that pervert, Wade."
"Hey! Little girl, you've never even met Wade, so how can you call him a pervert?"
Deadpool squinted at Venom, confirming that he didn't recognize her.
"What about this… do you remember me now?!"
As she spoke, Venom transformed back into her original form—a black, sinewy body with pale, menacing eyes and rows of sharp teeth.
"Oh my God!"
Deadpool's eyes widened in exaggerated shock, as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. Even Banner flinched at the sudden transformation.
Seeing Deadpool's reaction, Venom reverted to her human form.
"Now do you remember me?"
"Boss, you have some interesting tastes. Could you share the experience with me? I want one too."
Deadpool's gaze was complicated—a mix of curiosity, amazement, and admiration.
"So, you're not denying you're Wade anymore," Kino teased.
"That's right, I am Wade. Your former idol. Not long after we parted ways, I was diagnosed with cancer. After enduring all kinds of torture, I finally survived but ended up looking like this. With this face, I can't even go home. Damn Francis—I have to find him and make him fix my face. Oh, and by the way, those Stark stocks you told me to buy? They plummeted at first and scared the hell out of me. But then they skyrocketed, and I made a fortune!"
Once he started talking, Deadpool couldn't stop. His face shifted between anger and delight, his thought process jumping all over the place.
Kino suddenly interrupted, "If you made a fortune, why did you break into my place to steal?"
Deadpool froze for a moment before retorting, "I was just trying to swindle some mercenary fees. Who knew that old man would blow up both the serum and the cash? Thinking about it still hurts."
"Want to work for me?"
"No way. Even though you're a generous boss, I have to find Francis. If I don't fix my face, Vanessa will leave me."
Deadpool's voice quickened, his eyes burning with determination and a deep longing to restore his appearance.
"That's impossible," Dr. Banner said calmly.
"...What did you say?"
Deadpool's playful expression vanished, replaced by cold seriousness.
"Restoring your appearance is impossible. The balance between your healing factor and cancer cells is the only reason you're still alive. If that balance is disturbed, you'll either die from the cancer or become an uncontrollable mass of flesh. At least, I don't think someone who conducts such crude experiments would possess any advanced techniques to reverse it."
Before Banner could finish, Deadpool erupted in rage.
"You're full of crap! It must be because you're not skilled enough! Francis told me he could fix me. I'm going to find him right now and prove you wrong!"
Fueled by anger, Deadpool slowly sat up, despite the needle suppressing his nervous system. His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging across his forehead. His fury was palpable, as if he was ready to tear the room apart.
"Impossible," Banner muttered in disbelief, quickly checking the monitoring equipment.
The analysis revealed that Deadpool's tissue had begun pushing out the metal needle. One-third of his nervous system had already regenerated.
With a metallic clang, Deadpool pulled the needle from his neck and tossed it aside. Wrapping the white cloth more securely around his waist, he cast one last glance at Kino before striding toward the exit.
His back was filled with an unwavering, reckless resolve.
Just as Deadpool was about to step out the door, Kino spoke.
"I can restore your appearance."
Deadpool froze mid-step and turned to face him silently.
"Ten minutes. That's all it will take," Kino stated calmly and confidently.
A mysterious, shadowy glow appeared in Kino's hand—a demonic contract, born from Xi's powers.
"Sign this, and you will be restored."
Without hesitation, Deadpool grabbed the contract and signed his name. After all, things couldn't get any worse.
The moment his name was written, the contract vanished into thin air. At the same time, Deadpool felt a surge of new power awakening in his mind, and his eyes gleamed with excitement.
As he activated the ability, his grotesque skin began to heal visibly. The rough, cratered surface smoothed over, while hair sprouted across his body, growing from sparse strands into a thick layer, like wild grass flourishing in spring.
"Hope is a stubborn thing; it clings even when the world says otherwise."
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