Chapter 1: Wade Wilson, Surname Wei, Given Name De
New York City, USA.
A guy whose entire body looked like a tenth-degree burn victim lay sprawled on his couch, sighing dramatically.
Everyone says the power of credit is infinite, so why the hell is my credit card balance so pathetically finite?
Whatever. Time to see if there are any jobs available.
Hell, I'd even find lost cats or catch stray dogs at this point. Anything to solve this whole "broke as a joke" situation.
With that thought, Wade pulled out his phone and started dialing through his contacts one by one.
And got hung up on. One by one.
Finally, someone actually answered. Wade's face lit up as he glanced at the name: Matt Murdock.
"Hey! Is this my long-lost brother from another mother and father, Matt?"
Hearing Wade's voice, the person on the other end replied without hesitation: "No. Wrong number. Goodbye."
"Wait wait wait wait WAIT!"
Wade frantically interrupted: "I just wanted to ask if you have any cases that need my help right now. Super affordable rates. Limited time offer. Act now and I'll throw in—"
"Cases..."
On the other end of the phone, a man wearing sunglasses and holding a cane lightly drummed his fingers on a voice recorder in front of him.
He did have a pretty tricky case on his hands, and he couldn't spare the time to investigate it himself.
But whether to entrust this job to the completely unreliable Deadpool... that required serious consideration.
"Yes, cases!"
Wade rambled on: "You've seen my work efficiency. Except for in bed and on the toilet, even the Flash would have to call me daddy. Oh wait, you probably haven't witnessed my performance in bed or on the toilet. But if you don't mind, next time—"
"ENOUGH!"
Matt decisively cut off the buzzing fly in his ear: "I actually do have a case. No evidence yet. It's about a priest."
"What? Those God-cosplaying creeps are going after cute little boys again? Again again AGAIN?"
Matt really wanted to defend the Church and set the record straight, but he couldn't.
Because this time, that's exactly what it was.
"I'll send you the files right now. Remember! I'm only asking you to find evidence. I'm NOT asking you to commit crimes, and I'm DEFINITELY not asking you to kill anyone!"
"Of course! So about the matter of compensation..."
Wade rubbed his hands together expectantly.
"Five hundred bucks."
"How much?"
Wade dug at his ear, convinced he'd misheard.
Matt repeated: "Five hundred dollars."
Wade exploded: "FIVE HUNDRED BUCKS? What am I, a charity case?"
"Four hundred and fifty dollars."
"I—"
"Four hundred dollars."
"Stop stop STOP! Don't go lower! I'll take it, I'll take it!"
Turns out, certain people rank even below charity cases.
Hearing this, Matt hung up immediately, afraid that talking even one more second would infect him with the virus of weaponized stupidity transmitted through wireless signals.
Wade, meanwhile, flopped lazily back on his couch, adjusted his crotch, and started reading through the files Matt sent.
Dear Father Sama, here I come~
...
STOP.
Before the plot officially begins, let's follow tradition and insert a protagonist introduction.
His name is Wade. Not just Wade as in Wade Wilson, but Wade with the surname Wei and given name De.
That's right—he's a transmigrator. In his previous life, he was Chinese.
The transmigration was pretty cliché. In his last life, he got hit by a truck. Then his soul floated and floated and floated until it reached a blue-skirted, blue-haired girl who called herself the Goddess of Wisdom.
The girl told him he could choose not to reincarnate, but instead transmigrate into a randomly selected superhero body. From then on, he'd shed his mortal coil and become a superhero who punishes evil and eliminates injustice.
I mean, who could refuse that?
A SUPERHERO!
I was so stupid. Really. (Insert Xianglin Sao voice here—wait, you guys don't know who that is, do you? Imagine the saddest, most pitiful voice possible.)
I only knew that superheroes included people like Batman, Iron Man, Captain America, and Superman—beings who receive universal admiration and endless respect. I had no idea Deadpool counted as one.
Actually, thinking back on it now, his name was Wade. Deadpool's name is also Wade.
Everything was destined.
This is fate!
Once he'd already nodded his head, struggling was useless. And so Wade—a model citizen who could recite the Eight Honors and Eight Shames and the Core Socialist Values backward and forward—transmigrated into Deadpool.
You think that's the end?
Deadpool, well... aside from his face being a bit messed up, his combat abilities with swords and guns plus his unkillable superpower are still pretty impressive. Using those qualities to uphold justice shouldn't be too problematic.
As for his damaged reputation, model citizen Wade figured that was just slightly troublesome.
Give him some time, and he'd guarantee he could gradually change everyone's impression of him. Maybe he could even sprinkle some socialist seeds in this evil capitalist America where money is god.
Just thinking about it made him a little excited.
He swore, that's genuinely what he was thinking before.
I was so stupid. Really. (Xianglin Sao x2... Okay, seriously, imagine Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh but Chinese and more depressed.)
Soul transmigration basically means stuffing your consciousness into the original body—a hostile takeover situation.
Wade was originally unwilling. After all, how was this different from murder?
Murdering a super-he... HERO! (Gritting teeth dot jpg)
But the Goddess of Wisdom explained that transmigration targets are all already dead or in a completely unconscious state. His transmigration wouldn't harm anyone—in a sense, it would actually save them.
He thought about it. That seemed reasonable. So he agreed.
The above conversation happened BEFORE the random superhero selection—meaning Wade didn't know yet that he'd become Deadpool.
So the question is:
How could the unkillable Deadpool be dead or unconscious?
The answer is simple.
He got killed.
And it was bad. So bad that even with his healing factor, he needed a loading screen just to respawn.
So here's the NEW question:
After his consciousness arrived in Deadpool's body, would Deadpool's body continue resurrecting the previous consciousness?
The answer is yes.
And so, two consciousnesses merged. Wade Wilson, surname Wei, given name De, was born.
...
BANG!
On the rooftop, two gunshots rang out almost simultaneously, immediately followed by the sound of heavy objects hitting the ground.
BOOM!
The locked rooftop door was violently smashed open. Colossus, his entire body gleaming with silvery metallic luster, ducked through the doorframe, scanned the area, swept his gaze over two bodies lying on the ground, and glared at one of them with an ugly expression: "Wade! You killed someone again!"
"No, Piotr, that's slander!"
Deadpool—wearing his red and black skintight suit—rubbed the bullet hole in his head as he stood up, casually picking up the gun that had fallen on the ground: "This was a sacred duel. One man, one gun. Fair, just, and open. You couldn't find a fairer bet if you searched all of Las Vegas."
Seeing that Colossus didn't believe him, Deadpool pressed the gun to his own temple: "If you think that's not enough, I can even give him another shot."
Colossus crossed his metal arms over his chest, watching Deadpool's performance with cold eyes.
"What are you waiting for?"
Seeing Colossus standing there silently, Deadpool tilted his head like a curious puppy.
Colossus said flatly: "I'm waiting for you to give him another shot."
After all, this guy couldn't die anyway. If he "suicides," it would actually save Colossus some effort.
"Oh! You've changed, Piotr."
Deadpool covered his mouth with one hand, shaking his head in disbelief. He moved the gun away from his temple and aimed it at the corpse beside him.
BANG!
The bullet hit precisely between the corpse's legs. Blood splattered everywhere.
"Nice! That's why I'm the best!"