Actually, Santa Claus doesn't have anything that Su Ming is interested in; his abilities aren't used for combat, and he doesn't have any valuable treasures at home.
However, adhering to the principle that mercenaries don't work for free, Su Ming still signed a contract with him, allowing his toy factory to produce a part of the Captain America merchandise for free, 1 million sets each year.
In the future, when you eat at Wilson Enterprises' fast-food restaurants, you might receive a miniature Captain America toy soldier when ordering a kid's meal.
There are over a hundred different designs, such as the 'Stage Play Captain America' stepping on Xiaohuzi in a World War II uniform, the 'Fighter Captain America' boxing with Red Skull, and the 'On Vacation, Captain America' wearing a leather jacket and riding a motorcycle.
Anyway, kids can only complete the full set by not spending hundreds of US Dollars from their parents; if it weren't for not knowing which superheroes Wilson Enterprises currently holds the license for, the production scale should have been even larger.
Wilson Enterprises has Steve's full authorization, and at that time, the contract intentionally blurred the line between Captain America and Steve's natural person, so even now, Steve still has to stand for Wilson Enterprises, using Captain America's image.
Of course, Su Ming didn't overdo it; the Captain America image is shared with the military, and only Wilson Enterprises' merchandise is authentic for peripheral products.
It's really hard to scrape any benefits from Santa Claus; Su Ming could only sign a contract better than Deadpool's to make do.
He watched the contract burn into effect under the witness of Emperor Vishanti, satisfied, and toasted with Santa Claus: "Alright, now you can't die; actually, someone wants to protect you, it's just that you haven't realized it."
"Hmm?" Santa Claus looked bitter; he knew that Deathstroke hadn't revealed all the information before signing.
"Think about it, why would Deadpool and I come so coincidentally?" Su Ming drank with a smile, like a gentleman at an upscale wine party. After finishing the business, he seemed to transform into a nobleman.
This is the smile of a successful person.
"Because... Deadpool took a job to kill me?"
Santa Claus recalled, his wrinkled hand groping the greasy reflecting armrest of the sofa.
Su Ming nodded, raised his glass, and took a close look at the flames in the fireplace:
"Yes, so the first question arises, what kind of child could pull out fifty thousand US Dollars to hire Deadpool? Keep in mind, Deadpool has no new media advertisement, his business either comes through acquaintances or newspaper coupons. Normal kids wouldn't read newspapers, nor can they access the dark web for international mercenary information, so how did they contact Deadpool?"
"This..."
Santa Claus only realized the issue under Su Ming's reminder; indeed, problems are lurking everywhere in life.
Su Ming patted his shoulder, took a sip from his glass, savored the citrus flavor in his mouth, and then threw out another series of rhetorical questions:
"There are countless mercenaries more high-profile than Deadpool, like the Master of Mimicry, White Wolf, Red Lion, Beetle, and I can name a hundred more, not to mention that AIM and the Hand Union also accept contracts... so why Deadpool? Is it because he's ugly? Or because he smells bad? Or because his price is high but has a success rate of less than 50%?"
Santa Claus took a deep breath: "Because he's your cousin, someone wants to drag you into this."
"Yes, Wade figured it out too, that those kids merely want to send him and me to you tonight. But even knowing that, Deadpool still wants the money, so when he found me, I knew right away it was trouble."
Su Ming spoke casually, taking the initiative to pour himself another glass of good wine.
"Why are they doing this?" Santa Claus frowned, his thin limbs quivering slightly, restless.
Now even children are so dark; what's happening to the world?
The mercenary only tilted his head back to finish his drink and gently placed the glass on the coffee table: "If all kids celebrating Christmas turned into vampires, who do you think would lose the most? Here's a tip, when vampires transform, their souls dissipate, like a soap bubble disappearing; that's the cost for trading endless life."
Santa Claus' eyes widened, he understood: "If these souls don't dissipate, they'll eventually become corrupt or holy over a decade, tainted with various colors, becoming valuable, and Earth's souls mostly belong to the lords of Hell."
"Have you heard of Lucius, also the legend of the Child of the Demon, where some people trade their unborn kids with demons for money or other things…"
Su Ming supported himself with the Cross, also looking outside, Santa Claus's expression was solemn; he hadn't expected demons to be involved too.
"The Child of the Demon, I understand; these kids are born as demons, a way for devils to enter the main dimension. Human bodies, demon souls, they'll serve their masters, harvesting souls with their various abilities from an early age."
"Yes, I guess it's such a group of Children of the Demon who found Deadpool. For ordinary kids, fifty thousand US Dollars is a fantasy, but not for demons. In a way, their master also predicted Deadpool's style, so hiring him to kill you is actually protecting you."
Su Ming stretched his neck, the mask rising back to cover his face, and his voice became more like it came from the darkness.
"Weird, being protected by demons?" Santa Claus felt a bit lost.
"Based on my experience, there are only a few among the Lords of Hell who possess such cunning. That's why I brought Spider Hero along as a protective talisman to prevent unexpected situations; the act of a spider weaving its web is inherently a matter of chance, given there's no bait on the web." Deathstroke shook his head, saying it's not the key: "I sensed magic fluctuations; someone is coming."
Actually, it was the Magic Floating Cloak that sensed it, but saying it that way would be a drop in status; anyway, if the Cloak sensed it, the Supreme Mage sensed it.
Santa Claus closed his mouth, and outside the window came the sound of howling wind, with the wood in the fireplace issuing a crackling sound. Su Ming quietly walked to the door, leaning against the wall in silent wait.
"Knock, knock, knock."
A minute later, the sound of knocking came through the night, its rhythm calm and measured, as if the knocker was quite confident.
It's like a noble attending a friend's banquet where there's no steward to greet them, the door locked as if they've forgotten the guest was due.
Even if they're starving, they must maintain noble decorum, so they should knock on the door neither too heavily, showing they don't absolutely need a meal, nor too lightly, failing to express their inner dissatisfaction.
Knowing how to strike this balance is a part of noble etiquette; the more impolite they are, the more gracefully the noble should act.
Su Ming silently waved his fingers at Santa Claus, signaling him not to move, just watch outside the window.
Sure enough, a pale face appeared at the window.
Unlike the living, they don't need to breathe, so there's no fog on the window, allowing their features to be fully visible.
Upon seeing Santa Claus inside, it merely gave a wicked smile and then turned into a puff of black smoke, vanishing.
Vampires don't actually smile; that's just the expression of curling their lips to reveal canine teeth.
But it didn't see Deathstroke hidden in the darkness by the door, who was tilting his head, staring at it with a red eye, within close reach.
A few seconds later, something fell down the chimney, a smoke bomb.
Su Ming nodded. Yes, vampires indeed have a rule of 'do not enter unless invited,' but not all vampires are that rigid. As long as the homeowner opens the door, they can enter properly, without breaching any taboo.
Thus, where there are policies above, there are countermeasures below; vampires have invented many good methods.
For example, throwing smoke bombs or grenades through chimneys or windows, or using blood magic to control insects and animals to enter and drive people out, or straightforwardly using mind magic to control humans to open doors; all are feasible.
They only dress like nobles, lavish in their tastes like nobles, yet aren't true nobles. They're not even human.
But with Su Ming present, don't bother playing with these little smoke bomb tricks.
Before the grenade in the fireplace could emit smoke, Su Ming directly flew over, grabbing it from the fire, and threw it back up the chimney the way it came.
One heard a muffled sound as the smoke bomb seemed to hit something, followed by something rolling off the roof, falling into the snow with snowflakes, and at the window, only a shadow flashed before all was calm.
After all, with his current strength, tossing grenades outside, if it wasn't a vampire getting hit, they'd probably be dead by now.
The knocking paused, as if stunned.
A moment later, another vampire peeked at the window, gazing into the room. It was more attentive than the prior one, checking each window to ensure nothing was overlooked.
Yet such actions were within Su Ming's expectations too; so as soon as the smoke bomb was thrown, Su Ming was like a spider fixed in the corner of the ceiling, equally a blind spot for the windows.
Hence, the vampires only saw Santa Claus still sitting on the sofa, a shotgun resting on his knee, seeming leisurely as he drank.
Santa Claus is this strong? How come it wasn't known before?
But never mind, if smoke bomb didn't work, switch to defensive grenades. Moreover, after throwing them into the chimney, find a cover to seal the chimney, preventing Santa Claus from tossing bombs back.
If unwilling to be bombed, Santa Claus must escape the room, and wherever he exits, outside is no safe zone.
So in a few moments, several small green grenade-like objects fell down the chimney.
Yet Su Ming was prepared; he reached out over the flames catching them, precisely as they fell into his hand. After catching them, he flicked, Strangulation opened the window by the door, throwing the grenades near the entrance.
Only heard was constant explosive noise, a bunch of intestines, gut fragments sticking to the glass in an instant.