"Has something happened outside?"
Scratching his head, Deadpool keenly picked up the information in the priest's words.
Fear, harm, not a good time to wander around—he knew something must have happened.
Could Nightcrawler have snuck off to assassinate the President again, and now the streets were staging a grand show of Mutants versus the army?
If so, would the X-Men and other moderate Mutants be branded as Nightcrawler's accomplices and forced into the fight?
If that were truly the case, whose side should he be on?
Perhaps he should side with humans; he'd disliked Charles's bald head for a long time, always reading other people's minds without a word.
How presumptuous!
No privacy at all.
Of course, if Charles, in order to secure his ultimate combat power, which could change the course of the war, was willing to let him fondle his White boiled egg, he might consider it.
"Child, self-deception cannot escape reality. You are just too tired. Would you like me to get you a drink?"
Deadpool:...That's why he hated priests.
It wasn't because many of them had a particular fondness for little boys; after all, as a former upstanding citizen, he knew not to discriminate against the majority because of a few.
It was simply because these charlatans, after being religious figures for so long, especially loved to speak in riddles, beating around the bush without giving a direct answer.
Riddler, get out of Gotham!
"I'll have a Coke, please. Thank you."
Hearing this, the priest smiled slightly: "Alright, I'll go get it for you."
Then he turned and walked back into the side corridor.
Deadpool casually found a seat and sat down, frowning, carefully trying to recall what plot this might correspond to.
"Roar~"
Suddenly, his ears twitched, and he keenly heard a low growl coming from the side corridor.
Was that priest in danger?
Deadpool's pupils contracted. He stood up, a pistol appearing out of thin air in his palm, and he strode towards the side corridor.
Despite his dislike, he was the highly anticipated, revered Superhero Deadpool, and he absolutely could not stand by and do nothing.
Entering the narrow corridor, the low growls became progressively clearer.
Finally, Deadpool arrived at the door from which the growls emanated and kicked it open.
Inside the room, the priest held a ceramic cup in his left hand and a small White plastic bottle in his right, staring blankly at Deadpool, who had drawn his gun.
Not far from him, an old woman was tightly bound to a chair, struggling frantically. The low growls Deadpool heard were coming from her mouth.
The old woman's skin was grayish-white, like a corpse that had been dead for a long time. Her eyes, like those with severe cataracts, showed no trace of black. Her face was swollen, and the flesh below her nose was a bloody mess. A closer look would reveal no wounds on her face; the blood was merely smeared on it.
Even more horrifying, at the old woman's feet, a pile of bloody, dismembered limbs lay scattered on the ground, mixed with fragments of clothing.
Having spent his early years on the Mercenary' front lines, Deadpool could tell at a glance that these limbs belonged to humans.
"My God, your taste is really heavy, heavier than I imagined."
Looking at the old woman, who had clearly turned into a zombie, Deadpool cast a disgusted look at the priest.
Also, zombies?
Had he arrived in the Marvel Zombie Universe?
"The coffee will be ready soon. Just go back and wait for a while."
The priest finally reacted, hid the small plastic bottle behind him, and hurriedly said to Deadpool.
"But I asked for Coke."
"They're both black; not much difference."
Deadpool:...Dare I ask, brother, did you join the diving club in college?
"What's wrong with her?"
He raised his gun, pointing it at the old woman.
"She's my sister. She's just sick."
"What about those limbs on the ground?"
"That's just an acci..."
Mid-sentence, the priest's expression turned fierce. He dropped the Water cup and plastic bottle and lunged at Deadpool.
Bang!
Deadpool pulled the trigger, and a massive, wall-revealing blood-hole instantly appeared in the priest's forehead.
Dodging sideways to avoid the corpse that lunged forward due to inertia, Deadpool fired again, ending the old woman's suffering.
He took two steps forward and picked up the small plastic bottle from the ground.
Estazolam tablets.
A common sleeping pill.
Then, looking at the roughly fifteen or sixteen conspicuous White granules in the coffee on the ground, not yet fully dissolved, everything became clear.
This priest used sleeping pills and drinks to drug people who came to the church seeking refuge and fed them to his sister, who had become a zombie.
Heartless and deranged.
Furthermore.
Church, priest, zombie old woman, bodies fed to the old woman.
This plot was too familiar.
Could this be the World of Resident Evil 2?
But in Deadpool's memory, his fourth-wall-breaking Time travel ability was limited to the Marvel Universe and the Mutant Universe, which is to say, the so-called MCU.
After all, he didn't have the copyright for other Worlds, so he couldn't just wander around.
Could it be... Suddenly, a terrifying thought appeared in Deadpool's mind, and his pupils abruptly constricted.
Oh no!
Marvel has been acquired by Netflix!
He wondered if it was too late to go butter up the Netflix directors now.
Director, I want to act opposite Peter Parker!
Oh, then I'd have to butter up Sony... USA, Colorado, Raccoon City.
Don't misunderstand, just as someone named Dick Long isn't really a dick dragon, Raccoon City isn't known for its raccoons.
Not even Little Raccoon crispy noodles.
Surrounded by mountains on three sides and bordered by a river on one, the only passage to the outside World was a large bridge over the river—the Black Gate Bridge, the fraternal twin of the Golden Gate Bridge.
These superior, easily-blockaded conditions attracted the Umbrella Corporation, a giant butterfly, to heavily invest in the backward Raccoon City.
Ostensibly, they built factories, boosted the economy, and fostered prosperity.
Underneath, they hollowed out almost the entire underground of Raccoon City, establishing a biochemical research Base—the Hive—and conducted large-scale research on a highly infectious virus called the t-virus within the Hive.
Until one day, the virus leaked, infecting the Hive's staff. The Hive's artificial intelligence, Red Queen, failed to seal the Hive, ultimately leading to the t-virus leaking into Raccoon City above ground.
And at this moment, only a little over ten hours had passed since the virus leak.
Opening the small refrigerator in the room, Deadpool took out a bottle of soda to calm his nerves.
Only half a day had passed since the Raccoon City zombie crisis erupted, and power and Water supply hadn't been affected yet. He turned on the small TV in the room, and a burst of static flashed across the screen.
Several channels showed the same static, so Deadpool clenched his fist and hit the top of the TV hard.
Sizzle~
Ignoring the crack on the top of the TV, the screen still had some static, but it was barely watchable.
"An unknown virus is spreading widely in Raccoon City. Infected individuals will exhibit highly aggressive symptoms, attacking those around them indiscriminately. Please be extremely careful. The Umbrella Corporation has dispatched armed personnel to blockade Raccoon City and is cooperating with the police to evacuate uninfected citizens."