Regarding the suggestion to ride the Christmas sleigh, Su Ming was somewhat tempted but ultimately declined.
He and Wade needed to find Hel, so they required a different mode of transportation.
"Why don't you team up with Peter? Your trouble has been solved, don't forget your promise." Su Ming waved his hand, dragging Wade, who was about to say something, out of the door: "I still have some business with Deadpool."
Peter walked to the door and looked at the snow outside, stained with blood and bullet marks, and reluctantly said goodbye to Deathstroke: "Thank you for helping fulfill my wish, although the reality wasn't ideal... Nevertheless, thank you."
"No need to be polite, kid, Merry Christmas." Su Ming nodded to Spider Hero. Through their interactions, he had completed a psychological profile of Peter. Fortunately, despite Peter appearing slightly darker, he was still just a kid.
"I'll come back to play games with you at my house. Last time I picked up a bunch of games." Deadpool waved to Little Spider, then turned to his cousin, lowering his voice: "You're in such a hurry; are you planning to take me to find a woman? Don't worry, I won't snitch to Valkyrie."
"Finding a woman is right, but not as you think." Su Ming tucked the Soul Stone under his arm and looked up at the night sky filled with drifting snowflakes, shouting: "Heimdall!"
As always, the Rainbow Bridge arrived on cue, resembling thin noodles, but much slimmer. Su Ming and Wade had to squeeze together to barely fit into the light circle.
But it worked. Accompanied by the receding rainbow-like light, the two disappeared, leaving behind scorch marks on the ground.
.................
Two hundred kilometers away, Thor seemed to sense something. Earlier, his hammer had moved a bit, but now he was already too drunk to realize what had happened.
Nearby on the couch lay Dr. Foster, not an astronomer nor a nurse, but like Strange, a surgeon.
Although the holographic fireplace flickered with flames, turning their faces red, the warmth was entirely thanks to the central air conditioning.
She was already passed out, having no idea why drinking made Thor so serious. He managed to get her drunk and unconscious, still laughing heartily.
Even though she was passed out, Thor continued drinking alone, determined to drink until he couldn't anymore.
The real reason was that Thor had developed a sense of money.
Drinking and eating required money, and feeding the Three Warriors and his brother was a bit tight.
He wasn't good at doing business, had no patience for working, so he could only mooch off The Avengers for food and drink to improve his lifestyle.
This was the Avengers base, and he was a member, a glorious identity earned through labor and bloodshed, so he drank for free here.
Moreover, the drinks here were brought by Tony or T'Challa. He was indeed catching a good wave.
It didn't matter if Jian was drunk; Thor still had Strange in mind.
First, he recorded how much he drank during the absence of the Mage. When Little Moustache returned, he would make him drink the penalty. Getting Strange drunk was the ultimate victory; true men should see who can drink more.
However, while he was getting drunk and counting for Strange, the Avengers' Little Moustache Mage was being entertained by Dracula.
As the King of Vampires, the sole surviving Ancestor in the Current World, Dracula had long outgrown low-level hobbies. When Strange, representing Deathstroke, approached him for a discussion, hinting at killing one of his Descendants, Dracula didn't hesitate to agree.
Currently, all vampires worldwide were his Descendants. Losing a few dukes or elders was harmless, as they only nominally belonged to him. In reality, they each had their own territories and wouldn't show up for decades.
If Dracula were the Emperor of Zhou, those dukes would be Spring and Autumn Lords; if he were the Shogun, those dukes would be Feudal Daimyo.
Overall, besides his castle and a piece of Romanian territory, Dracula lacked actual control over the vast Blood Race community, merely holding a title.
But his power is Undying; the ones below can't overthrow him, so they just scrape by.
Therefore, to Dracula, if someone without foresight provoked the Supreme Mage, dying is dying, going well.
He warmly received the Messenger, Doctor Strange. As part of the Blood Race, there wasn't human food or drink in the castle. But as a king, Dracula had many subordinates, and hosting guests didn't necessarily require meals.
So he invited Stranger to stay in the castle, enjoying the rehearsal of the court musicians' opera. The play was supposedly sent by Deathstroke, called "True Blood."
Strange thought of Thunder God Thor in the Arctic, feeling unsuitable to be a third wheel back there. Watching performances with the King of Vampires at night was a mindset practice and a bragging point with friends from The Avengers.
Thus, he accepted Dracula's invitation, watched the play with one human and one vampire, occasionally chatting.
Dracula exuded majesty, in blood-red armor with a Giant Sword on his back. And Stranger dressed in a Magic Robe, also with a Giant Sword behind him. As they chatted, they felt even more akin.
Vampire operas were exceptional; their artistic talent was unquestionable. Eternal life gave them ample spare time to refine performance skills.
Only the play was too long. It was said to last three days and nights; hopes were that Thor remembered the numbers by then.
...............
"Isn't this Hel? Alas, I thought you were taking me to meet your mistress."
First went to the Immortal Palace, then diverted to Warnerheim, and quietly headed to the Netherworld.
Wade stood in the black Obsidian palace, somewhat disappointedly extending a pinky, secretly hooking it, making exaggerated grimaces and gestures.
"Strange, don't you like beauties? Hel is pretty too, though covered in Death aura. Why don't you like her?" Su Ming was curious. Wade was always a face-value person, but he was acting so indifferent now.
"She's half Dead and half Alive. I hate such half-baked stuff. Either be totally dead or totally alive; being half-dead, half-alive makes it hard to categorize in my partner list."
Wade scratched his ear, maintaining a firm stance. His words sounded that way, but the real reason didn't lie there.
He didn't want any involvement with Asgard. Not only Hel, but also Sif, Amora, and other beauties with Immortal Palace backgrounds, he had no interest in them.
"You guys know I can hear this, right? Is it really okay to say bad things about someone in front of them?" Hel, with a calm expression, leaned sideways on her throne, watching TV and feeding her giant wolf hamburgers: "What do you want, Deathstroke? Deadpool can scram, the sooner the better."
"Why is there always preferential treatment? Do you discriminate against disabled people? Just because I don't have skin?" Deadpool pulled off his hood, revealing his dried avocado face.
Yet Hel reacted indifferently. Having dealt with numerous corpses, no skin was nothing.
Distinction anyway, why is it so? Deadpool never understands?
Su Ming didn't give Wade a chance to mess around; he handed the Soul Stone to Hel: "I want to kill my cousin, hoping for your assistance in extracting his soul."
Hel took the massive Soul Stone to inspect it, pondered slightly, and fed the hamburger to her giant wolf resembling a Husky.
She contemplated briefly, picked up the TV remote to pause the drama, and sat up with interest: "This matter, I'm quite intrigued, so as per your words, you're letting him die, right?"
Deadpool: "Hmm?"