The warm fireplace crackled, and the scent of pine mixed with the rich aroma of black tea filled the room.
Chen Tian's taut nerves unconsciously relaxed a little as OAA (or rather, the entity wearing Stan Lee's shell) spoke in a gentle yet insightful tone.
He leaned back in the comfortable high-backed chair, his tattered, blood-stained body still out of place in the cozy environment, but the fierce aura that could erupt at any moment quietly subsided.
"The script?" Chen Tian nodded slightly, a hint of understanding appearing on his blood-stained face.
He, of course, understood what OAA meant. Everything he had experienced, the opponents he had encountered—Death, Beyonder, Living Tribunal, and even this ultimate existence before him…
Didn't their root all point to that vast fictional Universe named "Marvel"?
Whether it was the intertwined light and shadow of the cinematic Universe or the colorful pages of comic books, for beings within the box, this was the "script" that constituted their entire World.
A colossal narrative structure, already laid out and governed by strict rules.
OAA wore Stan Lee's signature warm smile, tinged with a mischievous, childlike cunning. He picked up his teacup and gently blew away the steam.
"Exactly, the script. And you," his gaze from behind his sunglasses seemed to penetrate the deepest layers of Chen Tian's soul, "you are an existence from outside this 'box'."
"You have a… vague understanding of the structure of this 'big house,' its 'script' flow, and even possibly the 'settings' of certain characters, an understanding that originates from outside the box. This understanding is like an restless seed implanted deep within your soul."
He took a sip of tea, his tone as gentle as if he were recounting an ancient story.
"It is this seed that makes you instinctively feel the constraints of the 'script,' that allows you to see through the rigidity and unreasonableness of certain 'settings.' That's why you get angry, why you resist, why you want to… 'change' it at all costs."
OAA set down his teacup, the bone china cup bottom making a crisp sound against the oak tabletop. "You, in the most violent way, tore apart the 'protagonist' I placed center stage, disrupting the pre-set script rhythm. It's quite interesting, isn't it?" His smile deepened, carrying the pure appreciation of a creator who sees an unexpectedly brilliant twist in a story.
Chen Tian listened quietly, his tense shoulders completely relaxed as he leaned back in the chair.
He could feel the sincerity in OAA's words; this pursuit of "drama" transcended the obsession with "order."
As long as the script was vibrant, as long as the story was exciting enough, props on the stage being broken and protagonists being replaced seemed not to be what this "screenwriter" and "landlord" truly cared about.
His very existence was a dynamic subversion of the established script.
Seeing Chen Tian drop his last guard, OAA's smile grew even warmer and benevolent, like a grandfather watching his grandchild finally settle down after a ruckus.
"Chen Tian," he began slowly, his voice carrying a unique, all-seeing warmth, "you are very interesting."
Chen Tian paused slightly, looking up at the mysterious face opposite him, partially obscured by sunglasses.
Interesting?
That word seemed too understated for someone who had just shattered the Living Tribunal and nearly caused the collapse of the Multiverse.
OAA seemed to read his confusion and continued calmly, "In my endless observations, in the cracks of various Universes, there have indeed been 'outsiders' like you."
"They came from outside the box, bringing different knowledge and power." He paused, as if recalling, "Some were extremely violent, disregarding rules, only seeking destruction or conquest; others… were somewhat similar to you, seeing the framework of the script, feeling the limitations."
"But," OAA's tone carried a subtle hint of emotion, "when they finally, like you, truly stood before me… the vast majority of their ultimate choices were to try to 'replace' me."
He gently tapped the tabletop with his finger. "To control the script, become the new screenwriter, and rewrite everything according to their will. Power, desire for control, becoming a true 'God'… This is the most common path."
Chen Tian listened, his face showing no emotion, simply shrugging naturally, which caused a slight pain in his broken scales.
He forced a smile, a bit helpless and nonchalant, his tone frank and relaxed: "I don't have that much ambition."
He adjusted his posture, sinking deeper into the chair, as if to knead all his exhaustion into the comfortable backrest.
"If you've truly observed my trajectory," Chen Tian's voice was hoarse and weary from battle, yet unusually clear, "you'd find that, at my core… I'm just a 'salted fish'."
He used a very down-to-Earth, even self-deprecating term, "No ambition to conquer the Universe, no desire to control everything. Fighting and killing, changing the script? That's more like a desperate counterattack when pushed into a corner, or simply an impulse to eliminate all threats."
OAA's gentle smile widened, and he nodded understandingly, his graying temples trembling slightly with the movement.
"That's why I say you're interesting, little one." His tone was full of tolerance and subtle admiration. "You possess the power to pry open the script and overturn the stage, yet you seem to have no interest in the director's chair. Compared to sitting on a cold, supreme throne giving orders, watching stars rise and fall, Universes cycle…"
OAA took a small sip of tea, his tone carrying a gentle, insightful tease, "You're more enthusiastic about immersing yourself in that fleeting, noisy, and down-to-Earth 'ordinary person' life, aren't you? Even if it's just for a moment of peace."
The fireplace fire danced, radiating warmth.
OAA's words were like warm spring water, gradually permeating Chen Tian's soul, which was utterly exhausted after being stretched to its limits.
His precise insight into "ordinary life" particularly struck Chen Tian's deepest desire—power, to him, was more a tool to escape trouble and protect peace, rather than a ladder to seize power.
"Yes," Chen Tian responded softly. He struggled to sit up a little, his movements pulling at his injuries, making him wince.
He extended his hand, covered in blood and cracks, with visible finger bones, and stiffly picked up the teacup OAA had pushed across the table.
The warm bone china cup brushed against his wounds, bringing a faint sting, but more so, a familiar, reassuring sense of a "normal World."
He tilted his head back.
Gulp! Gulp!
He gulped down the warm black tea in the cup, his movements far from elegant, even a bit crude, like a cow drinking, trying to wash away the metallic taste of blood and the gunpowder smell of battle from his mouth.
The empty cup was placed back on the table with a slight clink.
Chen Tian took a deep breath; the mingled scents of tea, pine, and fireplace smoke filled his lungs, invigorating him slightly.
He raised his eyes, which still held a sharp gaze but were now more weary and tinged with a hint of helplessness, looking at the supreme being dressed as Stan Lee opposite him.
"Now, no matter what," Chen Tian's voice was still hoarse, but it had regained its usual straightforwardness, "I broke your robot vacuum and messed up your lawn."
He gently tapped his bruised chest with his fist. "I admit it. So, as the landlord, can you… restore all of this?"
He asked very directly, his gaze fixed on OAA's sunglasses, with the frankness of someone who'd caused trouble and was asking a parent to clean up the mess.
Unexpectedly!
Upon hearing Chen Tian's almost "passing the buck" request, OAA, who was sitting in the high-backed chair, suddenly leaned forward, no longer in his previous lazy, casual posture!
His hands pressed on the edge of the round table, his body taut, and the corner of his face, largely hidden by sunglasses, stretched into an unprecedented, "unrestrained" wide grin!
"Hahahahahahahahaha—!!!!"
A hearty, wild burst of laughter erupted instantly!
It was filled with pure, unadulterated glee, like a child who had successfully pulled a prank!
The laughter echoed in the cozy living room, making the flames in the fireplace seem to dance even more joyfully, creating a striking contrast with Stan Lee's previously gentle and composed image!
"Restore?" OAA finally managed to stop laughing, his body slightly bent forward from laughing so hard. He even raised a hand to wipe away non-existent tears from below his sunglasses, his voice still thick with laughter, "Little one! That's a very interesting question! Hahaha!"
He straightened up, spread his hands wide in an exaggerated, cinematic gesture, and declared with absolute certainty:
"I can't do it!!"
"This…" The expression on Chen Tian's face instantly froze; his casual "passing the buck" was replaced by astonishment.
He frowned deeply, his body instinctively straightening further, his eyes filled with confusion. "Why? Aren't you… the landlord?"
He gestured around the stable space, and then as if indicating the entire Multiverse, "Isn't this 'big house' all yours? Restoring a… robot that you allowed me to break should be very simple for you, shouldn't it?"
The smile on OAA's face did not disappear; instead, it became even more profound and inscrutable.
He slowly stood up, no longer leaning on the chair back.
The image of the gentle silver-haired old man, at this moment, seemed to briefly merge with some invisible, boundless existence, exuding a gentle yet undeniable sense of supremacy.
"Once," OAA's voice carried the distant resonance of an ancient tale, "there was also a fellow who could vaguely see through the 'fourth wall.' He was very special; at a certain Universal level, he once touched the truth of the 'box's' edge."
His gaze from behind the sunglasses seemed to pierce through time and space, landing on the distant past.
"That fellow, at a crucial juncture of fate, inadvertently revealed something to the 'disruptor' of that time." OAA extended a finger and pointed into the void, as if emphasizing a crucial phrase, "A seemingly simple sentence that revealed the true essence of this World!"
He lowered his head, "looking" at Chen Tian sitting in the chair, his invisible gaze containing soul-piercing insight.
"Little one, back then, through him, you understood the essence of this World, and even mocked the creator of this World." OAA's voice held a hint of amusement.
"You can think carefully, if it were in the 'real' Marvel World—I mean, that 'Marvel Universe' that is read, watched, imagined, discussed by countless people, existing on the spiritual level of humans in the real World—there, could anyone replace 'me'? Or, could anyone truly become the 'author's will' itself, the one who gives everything meaning and determines every direction?"
Boom—!!!!
This question, like a divine thunderbolt from the heavens, struck Chen Tian's mind without warning!
The confusion on his face was instantly replaced by extreme shock! His pupils suddenly constricted to pinpricks! His body stiffened abruptly, and even his breathing paused for a moment!
OAA's words, like an invisible key, instantly unlocked a logical dead end in Chen Tian's mind that had always subtly existed but had never been truly acknowledged by him!
Yes!
If OAA truly represented the embodiment of the author (or collective creative will) in that "real" Marvel World…
Therefore, as long as the creators of that World didn't have that idea (e.g., setting OAA as irreplaceable, incomprehensible, and supreme), in the "true" Marvel Universe, OAA should be absolutely impossible to replace! He is the will above the Marvel Universe!
So…
OAA's previous mention of "there were similar outsiders who replaced me"…
Who were those "outsiders" who could stand before OAA, possess the power to shake the script, and dare to covet the "position of screenwriter"?
The only answer, like lightning, instantly illuminated Chen Tian's chaotic mind:
Transmigrator novel protagonists!
Only those "story protagonists" with the halo of a transmigrator, destined by their settings to replace everything, conquer everything, and become new gods, would possess such ambition and possibility!
Then… what about himself?
He came from Earth, possessed a vague understanding of this "Marvel box," had the ability to summon various anime and game characters, and could also wield various powerful abilities, even easily mastering the heaven-defying ability of "I Am Stronger" which completely defied logic.
He fought his way through countless villains, even Death, Beyonder, and Living Tribunal, finally standing before OAA…
Could it be…
Chen Tian sat blankly in the high-backed chair, his blood-soaked body seemingly drained of all strength.
He looked at the gentle, inclusive, yet unfathomable halo of OAA before him, and it was as if he saw through him to an unknown dimension, a desk, a hand typing on a keyboard or drawing with a brush…
An unprecedented, bone-chilling cold instantly shot up his spine to the top of his head, making the blood in his entire body feel as if it had frozen!
If OAA was the embodiment of the Marvel author's will…
Then he… was he just a protagonist… in another "story"?
A character… in a higher-dimensional "box"?
This thought, like a black hole, instantly swallowed all his thoughts.
He felt his mind go blank, his mouth slightly agape, an inarticulate "Uh…" sound escaping his throat, and he was completely stunned in place.
The fireplace fire still glowed warmly, the scent of pine wood was still intoxicating, but the atmosphere of the entire room, under Chen Tian's dazed, shocked, and even slightly fearful gaze, suddenly became incredibly bizarre and profound.
The remnants of the red tea he had drunk swirled gently at the bottom of the white bone china cup on the table, reflecting his bewildered face.
OAA (Stan Lee) stood quietly by the round table, his gaze behind his sunglasses gently watching Chen Tian, who was caught in a storm of cognitive collapse.
Looking at that blood-stained face, frozen in an expression of extreme shock, OAA's lips slowly curved upwards, forming a gentle smile that saw through everything, filled with the understanding of an elder and a hint of slyness.
"It seems," OAA's voice broke the silence, still calm, yet like a stone dropped into a deep pool, it clearly entered Chen Tian's chaotic mind, "you've guessed it."
These words were like a judgment passed on Chen Tian's thoughts.
Chen Tian's lips trembled, as if he wanted to retort, but no sound came out, only his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty.
OAA nodded slightly, Stan Lee's image now more like a gentle guide, telling a cruel and true parable about existence itself.
"Since you've guessed it, you should understand the key." OAA turned slightly, as if demonstrating some invisible structure.
"In all those stories you know where 'I' can be 'replaced'—whether in comics, novels, or other forms of narrative—," he lightly tapped the void with his finger, "that 'I' who was replaced is merely a 'clone,' a projection, a 'character' created to fit the logic of that story."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"But the true 'I,' the fundamental will that gives meaning to everything and embodies all possibilities," OAA's voice took on an unspeakable sense of finality, "He always, and only, exists within the concept of the 'Marvel Universe' itself, that original one you know, which is the source and ultimate blueprint of everything. He is the cornerstone of that Universe, the never-ending source of that story, the ultimate manifestation of the 'Author's Will' at that narrative level."
Chen Tian felt as if his heart was gripped by a cold hand.
OAA's words completely confirmed his deepest fear—he thought he had broken out of the box, but he had only jumped into a larger, more complex box, and even the gentle "landlord" before him was merely a replaceable component in the blueprint of the larger box.
OAA continued his analysis, his tone as gentle as if explaining the way home to a lost child.
"It is precisely because 'I' in these derivative Universes, in these stories, am merely a 'clone' existing according to the 'script's' needs," he spread his hands, making a gesture of helplessness and frankness, "that, theoretically, I can be 'replaced.' As long as the story requires it, as long as readers want to see a new god rise, there will always be a way for a certain 'protagonist' to reach that position and replace me, the 'administrator.'"
His tone shifted, his gaze seemingly penetrating Chen Tian, and also the cozy room's barriers, pointedly "looking" towards some ethereal direction—the endless void beyond the "air wall" that separated ultimate truth.
"So, little one, back to your initial question." OAA's tone carried a peculiar, directional clarity, "'Can I restore the 'box' (Living Tribunal and cosmic order) that you destroyed, and fix the 'lawn' (multiverse structure) that you messed up?'" He shrugged slightly, his movement graceful, "That… is truly not something 'I,' this clone, can decide."
He pointed to the invisible boundary.
"That depends on that."
"It depends on that Creator of the 'box,' who exists in a higher dimension, holds the beginning and end of all stories, and determines the existence of everything, including 'I,' this clone."
OAA's voice was gentle, yet carried a suffocating sense of fate, "It depends on Him, whether He 'feels like it.'"
"Then what can I do?" Chen Tian blurted out, his voice extremely dry and hoarse, as if sandpapered.
A tremendous sense of powerlessness washed over him like a tide, making him feel as small as a speck of dust.
He scoffed, his laugh filled with self-mockery, bitterness, and an almost desperate sense of absurdity, "So, do I have to kneel and pray? Pray that my 'box creator'—that guy who might be scrolling through short videos in some corner or busy rushing a manuscript—will 'feel like it,' take a moment to 'show great mercy,' and move a finger to restore my 'home' (the original Universe) that was affected and smashed?"
He spread his scarred and blood-stained hands, looking at the congealed scabs between his fingers, feeling immensely ironic.
He had given his all, shattered the embodiment of supreme rules, yet the remote control of fate remained in the hands of a "creator" in a higher dimension, who might be completely unaware or indifferent to it.
"You could say that." OAA nodded, Stan Lee's image now more like a gentle announcer confirming a cruel reality.
His tone was calm, as if stating a perfectly natural cosmic law.
"Heh…" Chen Tian let out a short breathy sound from his throat, his entire body feeling as if its backbone had been removed, the last shred of supporting strength completely gone.
He no longer struggled, no longer straightened his back, letting his heavy body sink completely into the soft depths of the chair back, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
His blood-soaked body lay limply against the cushion, each breath carrying a heavy sense of fatigue.
"Death… Beyonder…" He stared unfocused at the flickering light spots on the ceiling, reflected by the fireplace fire, muttering, his voice as faint as a wisp of smoke that could dissipate at any moment.
"They always called me an 'outsider'… and in the end…" He forced a smile uglier than a cry, "I'm still just a… product… in a bigger 'box.' A doll whose path was set, and who ultimately discovers that even rebellion itself might just be part of the script."
Plop.
A drop of liquid, mixed with blood and an unknown substance, fell from his blood-stained chin, hitting the thick-piled carpet silently, spreading a small dark stain.
Just then, OAA (Stan Lee) moved.
He slowly walked around the round table and stood before Chen Tian, who was slumped in the chair.
The old man leaned down slightly, resting his hands on the armrests of Chen Tian's high-backed chair, his face, wearing sunglasses and a gentle smile, drew closer.
The light from the fireplace outlined a soft halo around his silver-white hair, and Chen Tian's dejected face was reflected in his sunglasses.
A gentle breath, carrying the lingering scent of red tea and pine wood, lightly brushed Chen Tian's cheek.
OAA tilted his head slightly, and with a teasing yet encouraging tone, like an elder looking at a junior who had given up after a setback, he clearly asked:
"So, little one, is this… giving up?"
Chen Tian slowly raised his head, a smile uglier than a cry stretched across his blood-stained and weary face. He looked at OAA's gentle face, so close to him; the sunglasses hid the other's true gaze, yet could not conceal the profound sense of knowing everything.
"Giving up?" Chen Tian's voice was dry and hoarse, each word sounding as if ground from gravel, "Then what can I do?"
He raised his heavy arm, that hand which had just shattered the embodiment of cosmic rules, now appearing weak and powerless. He vaguely pointed his finger towards the invisible barrier outside the room that separated ultimate truth, and also seemingly towards an even more distant, more unknowable dimension.
"Break this 'box'?" His tone was filled with self-deprecating sarcasm, "Go before that 'creator' who might be lying on the sofa scrolling through short videos, or sitting on the toilet zoning out?"
Chen Tian's fingers suddenly tightened, as if trying to grab someone's collar out of thin air, his eyes filled with extreme powerlessness mixed with absurd ferocity.
"And then grab his collar and yell at him: 'Hey! Restore it now! Restore my smashed home, everything I care about! Otherwise, I'll tear down your damn table!'—Like that?!" His voice rose, carrying a hysterical despair, but then quickly dropped after the last word, leaving only endless despondency. "Is that even possible? In his eyes, what am I? A speck of dust? A character? Or even… just a bit of noise that he finds annoying?"
OAA listened quietly to Chen Tian's roar and self-mockery, the smile on his face receding slightly. He did not answer immediately, but instead straightened up slightly, looking down at the young man slumped in the chair, his gaze behind the sunglasses seemingly tinged with regret.
"Tsk tsk tsk…" OAA shook his head, letting out a few sighs with clear disappointment. His gentle Stan Lee image now exuded an almost cold, divine scrutiny.
"Oh ho," his voice was still calm, but the temperature of that inclusiveness seemed to have dropped a little, "It seems… the little one I found 'interesting' has also started to… become less interesting."
This sentence was like a cold needle, precisely piercing Chen Tian's last line of defense. He suddenly looked up, a flash of offended anger in his eyes, but more so a shame of being completely seen through and a deeper self-mockery.
"Interesting?" Chen Tian sneered, his voice sharp, "My 'laid-back' personality? My go-with-the-flow attitude of not wanting to be a hegemon? My anger and defiance? Even my despair and self-doubt at this very moment..."
He gritted his teeth, every syllable carrying heavy self-loathing, "These... aren't these all 'his' designs? To make the story seem more 'real'? More 'dramatic'? More relatable to readers? My current personality... my so-called 'self', wasn't it 'created' by that guy just to satisfy his own creative desires?!"
He practically roared, his body trembling slightly from the intense emotion, pulling at his wounds and causing fine cold sweat to seep from his temples.
He felt like a Joker stripped naked, all his proudly unique qualities nothing more than a carefully crafted persona.
To Chen Tian's surprise, facing his soul-rending accusation and self-destructive roar, OAA's gentle Stan Lee smile completely vanished.
In its place was an unprecedented seriousness.
OAA slowly stood up straight, no longer looking down, but the invisible pressure seemed to suddenly weigh a thousand times heavier.
The fireplace flames in the room seemed to dim a bit, and the pine scent in the air solidified.
OAA's gaze penetrated his sunglasses, seemingly solid as it pinned Chen Tian's soul.
"You must know," his tone was decisive, every word like a heavy hammer striking Chen Tian's heart, "If you don't take over the 'power' that guy used to create this World..."
He paused deliberately, to give the following words greater impact.
"—Then, when that 'he', whether lying on the sofa watching videos, or 'wasting time' 'on the toilet' somewhere, when he finally notices, or merely 'on a whim' flips through your 'storyline'..."
OAA's voice suddenly took on a cruel, suffocating urgency.
"—The World you cherish, the place you call 'home'..."
"—Every single person you care about! Your friends! Your loved ones! Everything you protect..."
"—They will be shattered, perish, turn to nothing, or be arbitrarily altered beyond recognition..."
"—Perhaps in an instant!"
"—In that 'he's' one inadvertent thought!"
"—And at that time, if you want to do anything..."
OAA's voice boomed in Chen Tian's skull like a Death knell:
"—It will truly be too late."
Boom!!!
The last few words, like a violent bolt of lightning, fiercely tore open Chen Tian's chaotic thoughts, which were wrapped in layers of decadence and self-doubt!
Chen Tian suddenly sprang from his chair!
Not the previous struggle to sit up, but his entire body instantly tensed to the limit as if he had been struck by high voltage electricity!
On his blood-stained face, those eyes, which had been unfocused, scattered, and full of lifelessness, suddenly constricted!
His pupils shrank to pinpricks in extreme shock and fear, then suddenly expanded again!
Like two dead stars sinking into an abyss, forcibly ignited at the edge of a black hole's event horizon!
Deep within his pupils, the previously extinguished azure cross-star, representing the 'I am stronger' overwrite power, reignited with a roar, as if doused with scalding fuel!
It erupted with an unprecedented, scorching light that almost pierced his eyelids!
"No...!"
A broken, hoarse, and out-of-tune syllable squeezed from Chen Tian's throat.
All his despondency, self-pity, and nihilistic questioning of the meaning of existence... in the face of the naked 'ultimate countdown' revealed by OAA, concerning the survival of those he cared about!
Instantly!
Like fragile glass!
By that most primitive and violent fear, named 'loss'!
Crushed to dust!!!
He could not accept it! He would never allow it!
Whether it was a script or a puppet, whether it was creation or setting...
The meaning of his existence could be nihilistic, but the smiles of those he protected must be real! Their existence must continue!
A sense of power, more violent, more resolute, and more desperate than during his battle with the Living Tribunal, erupted like a volcano dormant for billions of years, deep within his collapsing soul, accompanied by that blazing azure star-glow!
The fireplace flames flickered violently, and the cozy light and shadows in the room were twisted into a monstrous mess by this sudden burst of fierce aura!
Chen Tian's blood-soaked body stood ramrod straight, like a final blade, just quenched and burning red, born only to sever the shackles of fate!
He stared fixedly at OAA's serious face, his chest heaving violently, each breath carrying a scorching murderous aura!
"I... understand." Chen Tian's voice was no longer hoarse; it was deep, cold, and contained a resolve capable of tearing reality apart. "What should I do?"
He no longer needed to ask "Why me?" or "Why should it be me?".
Because there was only one answer: only him!
Only he, this 'anomaly' who was inside the box but had glimpsed the outline of a higher box, had that faint chance to touch the power that decided everything!
For everything he cared about, he had to become that 'anomaly'!
OAA looked at Chen Tian, who was like someone who had crawled out of a hellish blood pool and instantly transformed from despair to determination. The cold seriousness on his sunglasses-clad face slowly receded.
An indescribable, gentle smile, a mix of relief, anticipation, and deeper meaning, bloomed once again on that Stan Lee-like face.
"Very good," OAA's voice returned to its initial peacefulness, yet carried a guiding force, "This is what I wanted to see, interesting little fellow."
His benevolent gaze fell upon Chen Tian, like an elder scrutinizing a junior who had finally made up his mind, full of encouragement and a hint of imperceptible cunning. "Little fellow, your resolve is great, but prying open the creator of that 'box' is not easy. Let me..." OAA's tone held a mysterious lightness, "help you find a helper."
"A helper?" Chen Tian frowned slightly, the azure star-glow in his eyes still blazing, but with a hint of confusion. At this level, transcending the rules of the multiverse, what 'helper' could be of use? Was it another one of OAA's avatars? Or some unmentioned supreme being?
OAA didn't answer directly, only his gentle smile widened a bit, with a touch of childlike mischief. He no longer looked at Chen Tian, but slowly raised his right hand and, facing the seemingly stable space formed by the cozy room and fireplace, gently made a grabbing motion!
There was no energy fluctuation, no spatial distortion. It was as if he had simply made a very natural grabbing motion in the air.
However, the instant his five fingers closed!
Plop!
A completely naked, dripping wet figure, still bubbling with soap suds, was 'stuffed' out of thin air into this dimensionally stable living room, filled with the scent of pine and black tea! He landed heavily on the thick rug!
Chen Tian's pupils suddenly constricted!
The figure was a bit dazed from the fall, but his body still maintained the inertia of his previous actions:
His left hand held high a comical-looking yellow rubber duck with a wide grin.
His right hand clutched a blue, fluffy bath brush, in the motion of scrubbing.
Most importantly—he was stark naked! Only a large amount of white bubbles stubbornly covered his crucial areas, barely maintaining a 'mosaic' effect that was better than nothing. Wet droplets rolled down his muscular contours, quickly spreading a small dark stain on the carpet.
The entire World seemed to be paused.
The fireplace flames froze in mid-leap.
The scent of pine and the aftertaste of black tea also seemed to halt.
Only the naked man, who had been suddenly 'teleported', maintained that extremely comical and inappropriate pose, like an absurd statue frozen in an instant.
Chen Tian stared fixedly at that face, which was highly recognizable even under the cover of bubbles—covered in crisscrossing dark red scars, as if burned by fire and forcibly healed countless times. That iconic disfigured face!
"...Wade?!" Chen Tian almost shrieked, his voice distorted by extreme astonishment.
Deadpool?!
OAA seemed very pleased with Chen Tian's astonished reaction. Like an old prankster showing off his work, he smilingly withdrew his hand.
As his hand moved away, the invisible 'pause' power was also released.
Splish!
The yellow duck in Deadpool's hand fell onto the carpet as he was dazed.
His right hand, holding the bath brush, unconsciously scrubbed his soapy arm again.
"La la la~ ♪ Who lives in a pineapple under the sea~ ♪ SpongeBob SquarePants~ ♪" Deadpool, completely oblivious to the drastic change in environment, hummed the off-key SpongeBob theme song and rubbed the brush against his butt, as if he were still in the bathtub of his own apartment.
But the next second, his movements suddenly froze.
The humming stopped abruptly.
His eyes, which Chen Tian had restored with the Infinity Stones, blinked blankly twice.
His gaze slowly moved from his soapy arm to the expensive Persian rug beneath his feet, then to the exquisite fireplace burning pine, and then to the oak round table with bone china teaware...
Finally, his gaze fixed on the two figures by the round table—Chen Tian, soaked in blood, with a strange azure star-glow burning deep in his pupils; and the other, OAA, in his Stan Lee form, wearing sunglasses, with neatly combed silver hair, a sophisticated sweater, and a gentle, benevolent smile on his face.
Deadpool's neck stiffly, segment by segment, lifted as he surveyed the room, which was completely out of place with his cheap apartment bathroom, filled with a classic British warmth.
Two seconds of deathly silence.
Then...
"Jesus Christ's toenails!!!" (English expletive automatically filtered) A piercing shriek, like a strangled gander, suddenly erupted from Deadpool's throat! Instantly tearing apart the previously solemn and eerie atmosphere in the room!
He sprang up from the carpet like a startled giant frog!
His arms were tightly crossed over his chest, his legs clamped together, curled up in an extremely comical yet defensive posture, staring warily at the two people in the room.
-----------------------
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