Amidst the chaotic warfare in Hell's Kitchen, the smell of gunpowder hung thick like a dense fog. Bullets roared through the dark streets like furious fire-dragons.
The X-Men had dispersed according to plan, each member transforming into a ghost in the night, silently weaving through the gunfire.
Logan, the Wolverine, stood in a corner, smoking a cigar with a calm expression, as if the surrounding battle had nothing to do with him. Bullets whizzed past him, but he didn't even blink.
He gazed at the bright moon overhead, a faint, helpless smile playing on his lips.
"This war is boring as hell," Logan muttered to himself, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "I wonder if there are any bars still open in this godforsaken place. I could really use a drink."
He knew that in the war-torn Hell's Kitchen, any bars that might have existed would have long since shut their doors. After all, no fool would risk staying open during a conflict like this. Life, after all, was the most precious thing of all.
However, just as Logan was lost in his thoughts, a playful voice suddenly sounded in his ear.
"Hey pal, looking for a place to grab a few drinks too? Great minds think alike! How about I show you the way?"
Logan jolted in surprise, spinning around to scan his surroundings with wary eyes.
His gaze burned with hostility. He knew this was Hell's Kitchen, the domain of its Lord, Chen Ye.
"Who's there? Show yourself!" Logan growled, his voice commanding and brook no argument.
Just then, a figure leaped from the second-story roof.
Clad in a red bodysuit with two sharp katanas strapped to his back, the newcomer stumbled upon landing, nearly falling flat on his face.
Logan's eyes narrowed as he recognized the figure: Deadpool, one of Lord Chen Ye's associates.
Rubbing his lower back, Deadpool grumbled inwardly, *Damn it, I wanted to stick the landing, but I threw my back out instead.*
He seized the opportunity to flop onto his back, propping his head up with one hand as he looked at Logan.
Logan stared at him, his brow furrowed.
He couldn't tell what the guy was playing at. Was this clown act just to lower his guard, or was there a deeper scheme at play?
"You're a superhero too, aren't you, pal?" Deadpool asked, curiously sizing Wolverine up.
"You know me? Have you heard my story?" Logan's eyes filled with a desperate hope. He thought this man might know something about his past.
He hoped to learn from Deadpool what his past self had been like.
However, Deadpool's answer left him disappointed.
Deadpool simply shook his head. "I don't know you, but your face is full of stories. How about we go grab a drink? I've got the booze, you've got the stories."
Logan took Deadpool's words as a mockery.
A fierce glint flashed in Logan's eyes. With a swift motion of his hands, razor-sharp claws instantly tore through his knuckles, gleaming with a cold metallic luster.
He lunged at Deadpool like a hunting leopard, ready to teach him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget.
Yet Deadpool seemed to have anticipated the attack, effortlessly dodging Wolverine's strike.
As he dodged, he curiously examined Wolverine's claws, as if studying a new gadget. "Doesn't that hurt? Having claws shoot out of your body like that?" he asked mockingly.
Wolverine's brow furrowed, surprised by Deadpool's ease in evading his attack.
Deadpool showed no sign of stopping. He even reached out to touch Wolverine's claws, confirming they were made of steel.
With a look of mock concern, he pointed to Wolverine's lower body. "You can't sprout claws from down there too, can you? That would be *really* painful for the ladies."
Wolverine's expression darkened further, the fury in his heart burning fiercely.
Yet Deadpool, as if oblivious to his rage, continued his incessant chatter.
"This is so cool! How does it even work? Is your superpower just being covered in claws?"
Wolverine's patience had completely worn thin. He decided to teach Deadpool a lesson he wouldn't forget.
He launched a frenzied assault, every strike brimming with power and brutality.
Deadpool, however, seemed to be holding his own. He parried Wolverine's attacks with his swords, all while continuing his ramblings. "What's your name?"
"Are you with the Avengers or the X-Men?"
"I'm actually pretty good friends with Juggernaut. Have you seen him around?"
"Are you sure you don't want to grab a drink with me?"
"I know a great bar nearby, but the girls probably aren't working today."
Wolverine remained silent, his eyes fixed only on the battle with unwavering focus and determination.
He lunged forward, his claws gleaming coldly as he slashed at Deadpool.
Though Deadpool's reflexes were lightning-fast, he still couldn't completely evade the strike.
The claws grazed his skin, leaving a shallow bloody scratch.
But despite his usual antics, Deadpool was no slouch when it came to fighting.
With a swift backhand slash, Deadpool's blade struck Wolverine squarely in the chest. Blood immediately gushed from the wound, staining his collar red.
Wolverine felt an unprecedented wave of pain, yet he didn't falter. Instead, his resolve hardened.
The two backed away, creating distance as they locked eyes.
Deadpool stared at the wound on Wolverine's chest, surprised to see it slowly closing. This piqued his interest—his own wounds healed just like that.
"Ouch, that really hurt! Why aren't you saying anything? Not a talker, are you?" Deadpool asked.
His tone held a hint of curiosity and kinship; this was the first time he'd met someone with his same ability.
Wolverine remained silent, his brow furrowed as he glared at Deadpool with a grim expression. He wondered if this chatterbox truly shared his power.
Deciding to test him again, Wolverine launched another attack.
He charged at Deadpool like a bolt of lightning, his claws gleaming with a cold light, ready to strike again.
But this time, Deadpool didn't just take the hits. He swiftly dodged Wolverine's attack.
"Come on, don't be such a buzzkill," Deadpool said with a helpless shrug. "By the way, were you disfigured at first too? How'd you fix it?"
Deadpool assumed his opponent had gained superpowers through experiments, just like he had. If he found out Wolverine wasn't disfigured, he'd definitely start acting up again.
He tried to defuse the tension with a casual tone, hoping to learn more about Wolverine.
"If you're just like yours truly and can't be killed, then we're just wasting our time fighting. Why not sit down and chat, and enjoy the finer things in life?" Deadpool said nonchalantly, leaning against a corner and twirling a sword in his hand.
Logan frowned. Deadpool had hit the nail on the head.
With their immortal bodies, no matter how they fought, it was all just a futile exercise.
"You don't look like you're really trying to destroy Hell's Kitchen, so why are you fighting so hard? Just leave everything else to Chen Ye. That guy just wants me to work for him for free!"
After hearing this, Logan seemed to think it made sense. After all, he had already held off Deadpool, this main force, so he wasn't exactly slacking off.
But he didn't want to listen to this chatterbox's ramblings, and for a moment, he found himself conflicted.
Just as Logan was struggling with his decision, Deadpool suddenly took a step forward, threw an arm around his shoulders, and greeted him enthusiastically: "Come on, come on, I'll take you out for a couple of drinks, and we can have a good chat. Let me tell you, our Hell's Kitchen..."
Logan froze, not expecting Deadpool to be so friendly.
Logan had originally wanted to give Deadpool two claws, but then he remembered that Deadpool would also heal. He could only follow Deadpool's lead and leave helplessly.
Just like that, Wolverine, a member of the X-Men, was so easily dragged away by Deadpool to go drinking.
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