Chapter 7: Nothing Much, Just Strolling
Clapping his hands together, Deadpool looked at the three people he'd tied up on the ground—face-down, backs to the sky, wriggling around like caterpillars—and nodded with satisfaction.
That's what I'm talking about. Such artistic rope work.
Even if the Oscars are rigged and I can't win, I could definitely pivot to art and take home awards there.
Speaking of which, what are the world's top art awards again?
Damn it, I've never actually paid attention to that!
I'll have to look it up later. Can't waste my natural talent in this area.
In the brief moment he'd zoned out, the three had inched quite far away. Deadpool quickly ran over, grabbed the ankle of Steve—who was wriggling fastest—and dragged him back to the starting position. Then Carter, who'd made second place. Finally, the innocent driver.
Actually... this is kinda fun?
Deadpool stroked his chin, his eyes lighting up. He stood in place, watching the three begin their caterpillar race. After they'd wriggled about ten meters away, he'd happily trot over and drag them back to the start.
After four rounds, the driver was completely exhausted, collapsing halfway through.
Wriggling in that position wasn't something just anyone could handle.
Carter, befitting her status as an elite agent, managed a full eight rounds before reaching her limit.
Or maybe she just realized wriggling was pointless and gave up.
"Go, Steve, you're doing great!"
Cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, Deadpool bent slightly at the waist, cheering Steve on.
Steve: ...
I'm tired. Let it all burn.
"Ah, happy times are always so short."
Deadpool walked forward, staring at that prominent American ass. He swallowed hard. His sinful hand moved toward it uncontrollably.
Wait!
At the critical moment, Deadpool's left hand grabbed his right hand, pulling it back.
Steve used to have a completely flat, plank-like body. He only got this physique after the serum injection.
The super soldier serum was technology—which meant this perky American ass was actually a technological product!
Deadpool flew into a rage and stomped on Steve's butt.
How dare you, Steve, with your righteous face! Using technology to deceive people!
DING. Task complete. Free Attribute Point +1.
"Hup!"
This is my chance!
Steve gritted his teeth hard, his face flushing red. His muscles bulged, veins popping. The not-too-thick rope instantly snapped. Deadpool felt a large hand grip his ankle.
He tried to pull his foot free. It didn't budge. He could only helplessly shrug: "Uh oh. I'm in trouble."
The next moment, Steve grabbed Deadpool's ankle, twisted his torso with all his might, and slammed him toward the ground.
"What a shame."
Deadpool's body was airborne, but he wasn't panicked at all. Before hitting the ground, he slapped one hand hard against it. A ring-shaped gust of wind radiated from the impact point, scattering dust everywhere.
Using the momentum, he leaped up, wrapped his legs around Steve's arm, twisted his body, pressed down on Steve's shoulder, and slammed him to the ground.
"Shame you're still just a rookie who only went through brief training. Otherwise, I'd be the one on the bottom right now. I was actually looking forward to that."
Bringing his head close to Steve's ear, Deadpool said coyly.
Steve's face turned red as he struggled continuously. But Deadpool, with his mercenary background, was intimately familiar with human joints. Steve was pinned powerless, unable to exert any strength.
Taking out the rope and re-tying Steve, Deadpool couldn't help but stomp on America's ass one more time.
That solid feeling was truly intoxicating. Simply incomparable!
Wait.
He turned his gaze toward Carter.
Carter: (Дﾟ≡ﾟДﾟ)
STOMP!
Nope. Steve's is still more solid.
Deadpool returned to Cap's side and stomped twice more for good measure.
Carter: !!!!!!!!!!!
What the hell???
Why did she detect a hint of disdain in Deadpool's eyes???
What did that mean?
Was he saying she couldn't compare to a MAN???
I...!!!
She glanced silently at Steve's perky butt. Carter: ...
Damn. She really couldn't compete.
Deadpool was about to leave when he suddenly thought of a certain pigeon from the classical martial arts section who'd gotten taken advantage of.
Yang Guo: Coo coo, coo coo.
That won't do!
He confiscated Carter's weapons, drew the long blade from his back, and with a SWISH slashed toward Carter.
"NO!"
Steve's eyes instantly turned bloodshot, looking ready to burst.
Carter squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting the death about to come.
The next moment, she only felt her wrists loosen. The rope binding her hands split in two and fell to the ground.
"Bye-bye!"
Deadpool wiggled his fingers at them, turned around, and skipped away merrily.
Today he'd trolled both Captain America and Agent Carter in one go. A truly auspicious day.
Carter rotated her wrists—red and somewhat painful from being tied too tightly—then took a few deep breaths. She quickly untied the rope around her feet, dusted off the large shoe print on her butt, then went to help Steve.
"Aren't we going after him?"
Steve stood up, staring in the direction Deadpool had left, grinding his teeth.
Turning back, he saw Carter looking at him like he was an idiot.
Guns confiscated, completely outmatched in hand-to-hand combat—you haven't been humiliated enough?
Got a taste for it or what?
Plus, Carter still hadn't figured out how Deadpool made the serum disappear and reappear, where he'd pulled that rope from, or the fact that they'd clearly seen him get shot with their own eyes.
"Forget it. That guy probably doesn't... doesn't have any malicious intent toward us. And neither of us is a match for him. We'll let the SSR investigate later."
Carter untied the driver, apologized profusely, and pulled out several bills as compensation. She took a long look in the direction Deadpool had left, then brought Steve back to the Strategic Scientific Reserve.
...
After teasing the young couple Steve and Carter while completing his task, Deadpool smacked his lips, feeling like this world didn't have much more entertainment to offer. He casually opened a door and stepped through.
Beyond the door was a slightly dim hall. Rows of seats were neatly arranged. At the front, a massive crucifix stood on a platform. Behind it, the wall featured stained glass windows with religious figures.
Not gonna lie, with sunlight hitting those colorful patterns, it actually looked pretty cool at first glance—like a kaleidoscope.
Had he arrived at a church?
Deadpool—now changed into casual clothes—took a few steps forward, carefully examining his surroundings.
"Ahem. Young man, may I help you?"
An approximately sixty-year-old priest in robes walked out from a side corridor of the church. He was somewhat portly.
"Nothing much. Just strolling."
Deadpool waved his hand, indicating he didn't need attention.
"Young man, now is not the time for strolling."
The priest shook his head, grasping the crucifix pendant on his chest. He traced from forehead to chest, then from left shoulder to right shoulder, drawing a large cross: "I know you're afraid, but you needn't worry. This is the Lord's domain. The Lord's light shines upon this place and protects it. As long as one is without sin, no harm will come to them here."
"If you believe yourself guilty, then pray sincerely before the cross. The Lord forgives every devout believer and absolves them of their sins."