"Seriously, you mercenaries are everywhere. Hurry up and tell me what kind of intel you need, so I can get off work."
Natasha walked over with a catlike stride, her expression showing impatience, but she crossed her arms, with one finger tapping her other elbow rhythmically, secretly conveying a message completely different from her words.
Looks like there are not just sensors, but also listening devices on the roof; this is not the place to talk.
Su Ming nodded: "Just like what we heard earlier, we need Santa's home address, and that's it."
"Wait here, don't go downstairs." Natasha held her earpiece and said something before turning away.
"Should we head down?" Wade asked as he was reattaching his dislocated arm to his shoulder, his mischievous expression clear even through his mask.
Before Su Ming could respond, Spider Hero grabbed his clothes: "Do you think this is a winter study tour? We're under time pressure, and I think S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't welcome a troublemaker like you, just like most museums ban you from entering."
"You just don't know how many single mothers there are in museums." The eyes on Deadpool's mask turned into crescents.
"Ew! Gross! Do you know how irresponsible that is?"
Spider Hero gave him a disgusted look and distanced himself from Deadpool, even though Wade didn't have any weird smell today, he still felt unclean.
If there truly is a fallen Devil, it must be in black and red?
"Can responsibility be eaten? Being carefree makes life interesting. Why are you so serious? Hehe..."
Deadpool jumped next to Peter, winking as he poked Peter's underarm with his finger, trying to make him laugh.
But unexpectedly, he received a punch from his cousin on the head, flat on the snowy rooftop.
"Stop imitating Joker, you're not as crazy as he is."
Wade flipped over and lay in the snow, his cracked skull rapidly healing: "But I'm better than him, aren't I? I have a hundred thousand Twitter followers, he doesn't."
Su Ming withdrew his fist, looking at the scenery with his hands behind his back: "Gotham has 8 million people; Joker can instigate half of them, and he regularly appears on news shows. You? You don't even have a TV commercial."
"That's indeed a problem. I should make an ad for my office. Let me think..." Wade became serious, pinching his chin in thought.
Peter tilted his head on the side: "What are you talking about? I can't understand. Who is Joker?"
"Joker is my cousin's good friend because darkness and madness always follow like shadows, young man, just as I enabled you." Deadpool immediately abandoned his thought, jumped up from the ground, cheerfully hooked Peter's shoulder, and started spreading strange ideas into his ear: "Actually, it's easy to be dark. Mount your Spider Silk Shooter on the belt—this is how you imitate a spider, no spider shoots silk with its hands."
"Get lost! I'm not a real spider, and the move you mentioned is terrible. Do you know I'm still a kid? Do you have any sense of humanity?" Peter wriggled out from Deadpool's arm, angrily turning his back to Wade.
Deadpool pouted: "Who isn't a baby?"
Peter couldn't stay serious toward Deadpool and unknowingly ended up in a banter with him, finding it very amusing.
So, after some verbal sparring, he started playing with Deadpool, and the two began a snowball fight on the rooftop.
..............
"This is Santa Claus? I don't believe it."
Natasha brought the target's home address, and the three bid her farewell and quickly arrived somewhere in the Arctic Circle in Greenland.
In a vast expanse of ice and snow stood a wooden cabin, warm lights pouring out from the windows, smoke puffing from the chimney—everything appeared ordinary and cozy.
But as the trio squeezed outside the window to take a look inside, they saw an emaciated old man wearing a vest and shorts sitting on the sofa, squinting and pouring more alcohol from a bottle into his mouth, while injecting himself with something using a syringe into his thigh, his face showing an abnormal flush.
It was that kind of unhealthy thinness, a big stomach but very thin limbs.
The ground next to the sofa was littered with empty bottles, not far from which the fireplace flames were licking a pile of medicine boxes and bottles, crackling in the fire.
Peter felt his world shattered; the legendary Santa Claus wasn't just extremely decadent, an alcoholic and drug addict, but also had medication issues.
So he immediately questioned Deadpool and Deathstroke, suspecting if they were deceived by S.H.I.E.L.D.
"They wouldn't dare trick my cousin; this must be Santa himself. Just… was my standard for good children wrong all along? If using him as a baseline, I truly fall short." Wade squeezed against the window ledge, spying and quietly saying: "I wondered why today Negative Sound Waves Lace Edge Bullet came to work carrying a huge gift bag, turned out it was from Santa, damn it."
"Watch your words; no one can say Santa should damn." Peter softly rebuked.
"Do you think you're Captain America? Besides, look at him, you can find a dozen Santas like him in the sewers of New York." Deadpool whispered back.
"..." Looking at the Santa who just shoved a handful of various pills into his mouth and washed them down with alcohol, Peter found himself speechless.
Su Ming ducked down from the windowsill, flipped over and leaned against the wall, sitting in the snow: "Something's not right, have you noticed?"
"I haven't seen anything right since I got here, can you send me home? I need to think about whether to tell Aunt May the real situation with Santa Claus." Peter sat down, looking deflated.
Wade was no exception, he sat down too, but he had his cousin's reminder and did notice a blind spot.
His mind and eyes move so fast that he can easily skip over clues, but once someone reminds him, he can react almost immediately, giving him a chance to mock Little Spider:
"I found something amiss, and you didn't. Ah, that's indeed the difference between kids and adults."
Peter immediately retorted: "Clearly it was your cousin who discovered it, now it's suddenly your discovery? You must be the world's thickest-skinned mercenary."
"Alright, let's be serious, we're on a mission right now." Su Ming intervened to separate the two: "First of all, Santa's reindeer and sleigh are missing. As beasts, reindeer always have a scent, but here, there's nothing beyond the smell of the wind and snow."
Wade also raised a finger smugly: "Yes, and there are no presents inside the house, Santa's bag is just tossed behind the sofa, but it's flat."
"That makes sense, originally there should be many dwarves helping him prepare gifts, but now it looks like he's all alone," Peter also noticed something amiss.
Su Ming agreed with their assessment, removed his mask, and put a cigarette in his mouth: "Santa just injected insulin, he probably has diabetes. Lumping such a large quantity of pills isn't common. After examining the half-burned boxes, they seem to be vitamins and calcium tablets. Living in the Arctic Circle easily leads to vitamin deficiency, combined with the polar day and night phenomena, calcium deficiency in the elderly is normal too."
"Tch, I thought it was cocktail therapy. If Santa has cancer, I could sell this news to the newspaper," Wade was somewhat disappointed, having taken pill after pill and losing hair as a cancer patient.
Peter rubbed his hands, flipped over, and lay against the window to peep inside, brushing off some snow that landed on Deadpool's mask, making Wade's nose itch.
After careful observation, Peter sheepishly scratched his head and withdrew.
"So I misunderstood him?"
Su Ming patted Peter's shoulder and shook his head: "Not necessarily, we live in a world where what you hear and even see isn't real. Those boxes and bottles might just be a disguise, with medication inside."
Deadpool: "Ah..."
Peter thought deeply, even through the mask, it was clear he was furrowing his brows: "But the excessive drinking is real, maybe he's in some trouble?"
"Or maybe not, the bottles might just contain diluted orange juice, and his excessively flushed face could simply be due to broken capillaries under the skin, a common condition in cold regions." Su Ming once again refuted Little Spider's views.
Deadpool: "Ah..."
Peter nodded somewhat helplessly, learning from the two mercenaries that sometimes what you see isn't the truth.
This reminded him of a past patrol, once at night, he saw a man seemingly assaulting a woman in an alley, the woman let out a piercing scream.
Peter beat the man up, then planned to take him to the police station, bound with spider silk.
The woman slapped him, because she and her boyfriend were role-playing, and Spider-Man had ruined their good mood.
Feeling awkward and helpless, Peter could only slink away.
Once merely experiencing it without thinking deeply, now looking back, he realized he should observe more and not jump to conclusions so easily.
"I get it, thank you, Mr. Wilson." He nodded at Su Ming, while brushing the snow off his shoulders.
Su Ming lowered his head to light his cigarette, then lifted his head, looking distantly at the night sky, exhaling smoke and showing a mature, melancholic smile: "Peter, remember this; everything is illusion, all things permitted, remember that and you'll be a qualified ass...hero."
"What was that A-word just now? I didn't catch it." Peter tilted his head and asked again.
Deadpool: "Ah..."
Peter turned his head toward Deadpool, giving him a push in annoyance: "What's with the incessant 'ah's, are you trying to say something?"
"Achoo!" The nose area of the red-black mask instantly wet two spots, and with a forceful inhale, the damp area seemed to shrink a little, he raised a finger to rub his nose and gave Peter a thumbs-up: "Finally sneezed, felt great."
But inside the house, hearing the commotion, Santa had already picked up a double-barreled shotgun from beside the sofa and was heading towards the door.