Chapter 238 – Allen's Former Roommates
Tony didn't fully trust the man and locked Dr. Zola into a containment vessel.
With current technology, even a palm-sized box could store an unimaginable amount of data.
The Avengers convened for a meeting to discuss how to deal with the threat posed by Skynet.
"What's there to worry about?"
Allen spoke nonchalantly, "Skynet used the Amazo drones to commit crimes against humanity—perfect. That clears Wanda of all charges and paints Amazo as inherently defective. We can smoothly shut down the government's accusations."
Amazo had already been integrated into the national defense system.
If Skynet hacked them into a full-scale rebellion, then Wanda's one-shot annihilation of over a thousand units couldn't be used as evidence against her anymore.
The higher-ups in America would just have to swallow the bitter pill.
To pacify the residents of Westview, Tony compensated each household directly with cash.
Compared to the hundreds of billions in total damages, even paying ten thousand dollars per person was just a drop in the bucket.
"We still can't let Amazo harm civilians," Steve reminded him.
"Easy to say. Who knows which city Skynet will hit first?"
Allen, however, had a plan. "Hey, kid—get in touch with Batman. Ask to borrow the Justice League's satellites. You two can coordinate a 24/7 global surveillance operation. Skynet might not hit America first—smaller resource-rich countries could be easier prey."
"And ramp up production on transport aircraft—the more the better."
Then Allen immediately contradicted himself and changed course: "Scratch that. Call up Director Baldy from S.H.I.E.L.D.—have the Helicarrier on 24-hour standby, ready for immediate deployment."
"I'll keep thinking in case there's more."
"Oh, and kid—produce more of the Amazo drones. We can't send humans to fight machines—that's an unfair war. Also, record the battles. It'll help us market the Amazo product line."
"Then call a board meeting, issue more stock, and rake in some profit while we're at it."
"If it comes to combat, make sure Hulk is involved. Poor guy's been cooped up inside Banner all this time—he's probably dying to smash something."
"And we have to do all this perfectly—airtight. Best if we livestream the whole thing globally. Don't ask why. The Avengers get things done better than the Justice League. When the chips are down, it's Marvel heroes who deliver."
"…"
Allen kept rattling off plans nonstop as he knitted a sweater.
Don't ask where the yarn came from—it was all donated by Wanda's yoga pants.
She'd swapped them for a pair of black leather pants, and Allen shamelessly took the old ones—missing a leg—and unraveled them into yarn for his project.
Having grown up in an orphanage, he picked up a few life skills before stepping into the world.
Of course, he stepped out of the orphanage and directly into a mental hospital.
Wanda probably put on those leather pants to stop him from ripping out more threads.
Everyone stared in stunned silence at the endlessly chattering Allen.
This guy really thought he was the leader of the Avengers now.
Tactical planning had always been Steve's job. Allen was only here for a day and was already acting like he owned the place.
"All done."
Allen stood up and packed the yarn and needles into his satchel. "Nanaue, let's go mooch some food."
"Yay! Nanaue loves mooching food."
Nanaue picked up the calico cat and tucked it into his war helmet, then jogged over to Allen's side.
The Avengers watched the two walk off coolly through a portal.
Tony turned to his old partner and asked, "Steve, got any notes or changes?"
"Nope." Steve replied, clearly unwillingly.
Truth be told, Allen's plan covered everything.
First, Wanda would be cleared of all charges.
Second, a broad tactical strategy was laid out—leaving the actual implementation to the team's flexibility.
And he'd even reminded Tony to seize the chance for a profitable business move.
There wasn't a single flaw to point out. Steve even had to admit that Allen might just be qualified to lead the Avengers.
Thankfully, the guy had his Comedy Troupe—and was clearly planning something big.
Joker Arthur's mayoral campaign had been all over the news, but unfortunately, the front page was stolen by a scandal involving Black Widow and Batman.
That photo of Black Widow on a motorcycle with Allen clinging behind her was a total bombshell.
It forced the ever-elusive Bruce Wayne to hold a press conference just to deny it.
Once again, Bruce stole the next day's front page, solemnly declaring that the man in the photo was Comedic Bat, not him, and that he had absolutely no connection to the person in question. Commissioner Gordon even showed up to vouch for Batman's alibi.
The only real victim in all this? Joker. His mayoral dreams just couldn't catch a break.
Ding-ling…
The doorbell rang.
Allen and Nanaue entered a Chinese restaurant.
Imperial East Restaurant.
Naturally, it was owned by Pietro, Allen's disciple.
From the open kitchen, Pietro was stir-frying under intense heat and barked without looking up, "Check the menu on the wall. Dine in or take out."
"Speed Boy, there's no one here. Why not use your mutant powers?" Allen asked curiously.
Hearing the familiar voice, Pietro jerked his head up. Seeing the face that never failed to irritate him, his rage boiled over. "You dare come to my place? Aren't you afraid I'll poison your food?"
"You forget—I've got connections in the afterlife." Allen grinned smugly.
"…"
Calling Hela "Mom" did give him the audacity. Unless someone could erase his soul, the guy wasn't afraid of dying.
"Let me show you what I've got."
Allen vaulted into the kitchen, fired up the stove, prepped the ingredients, and swung the spatula. "Nanaue, I'm gonna make you a giant serving of scallop stir-fry noodles."
"Master is amazing! Nanaue loves stir-fried noodles!"
Nanaue sat patiently on a barstool, waiting to be fed.
For a moment, Allen composed himself. His eyes turned focused.
Even Pietro, a seasoned chef, paused to observe his technique.
"Ahh…"
"Dragon-Taming Eighteen Stirs!"
Allen's face twisted into a ferocious grimace as he threw scallops and vegetables into the wok, shouting, "Stir-fry to death! These scallops—I'm gonna fry the juices out of you! Then blast you with cheese until the sauce turns thick and stringy…"
Uhh…
The cooking process looked fine.
But listening to the way he described it—was this stir-fry still edible?
Ding-ling…
A man in a red and black suit stepped into the restaurant.
"Holy crab, I finally found you."
It was Deadpool. Upon seeing Allen, his first reaction was to draw both pistols from his waist and say coolly, "Sorry, I like you, but someone paid me to kill you."
"I'm stir-frying scallops. Want some scallop noodles?"
Allen added shamelessly, "It's got that cheesy, gooey sauce."
"You know what? That actually sounds pretty good. I'll kill you after I eat."
Wade holstered his guns, sat next to Nanaue, and introduced himself, "I'm Deadpool, King of Mercs. If you've got the cash, I've got the skills."
"Hello, I'm Nanaue. I'm Master's pet." Nanaue responded politely.
"Allen—you really have a pet shark?!!"