For someone who had just gotten blood on his hands for the first time, Rorschach was far calmer than he would've expected.
He wasn't panicking.
He didn't even feel guilty.
Those idiots had brought it on themselves, and he felt perfectly at ease with what he'd done.
He even had the presence of mind to think about practical things—whether any cameras had caught him, whether he'd left behind any clues, whether the police might come knocking later.
Fortunately, the whole thing had happened in a run-down, chaotic slum district.
And when he left, he'd made a point of checking the area carefully. There were no cameras nearby.
Which made sense.
Those punks had obviously picked that spot to ambush and rob people. Why would there be surveillance there?
On top of that, Rorschach had deliberately taken secluded side paths on the way back, doing his best to leave as little trace as possible.
As for the rest…
Whatever happened, happened.
Shaking off the clutter in his mind, Rorschach changed out of the clothes that now had a few bullet holes in them, took a long, satisfying shower, then lay down comfortably on his bed and started playing on his phone.
"Boss! You there? Wade is calling!"
He had barely played two matches when a new message popped up on his social app.
This time, though, Deadpool wasn't talking in the group chat.
He had messaged Rorschach privately.
Looks like this is actually something serious.
At least he's not gossiping about me and Helen Cho again.
Rorschach immediately exited the game and replied.
"What's up, Wade?"
"I wanted to ask something. Do we have any Devil Fruits that can give an ordinary person some fighting ability? Preferably something that could deal with assassins."
Rorschach couldn't help laughing.
Deadpool was asking if there were fruits that boosted combat ability?
That was practically what Devil Fruits existed for.
"Of course there are, Wade. Not only do we have them, we have plenty."
"For example, we currently have the Sickle-Sickle Fruit, which lets the user launch blade-like air waves. There's also the Roar-Roar Fruit, which lets the user fire soundwave attacks from their mouth. And the Thorn-Thorn Fruit can create thorns that can be used as weapons…"
Rorschach gave him a quick introduction to several suitable Devil Fruits.
"But Wade, I need to remind you of something. Even after eating a Devil Fruit, how much power a user can actually bring out depends heavily on their own physical condition."
"When someone first eats a Devil Fruit, the ability won't be all that strong. It still needs to be trained and developed over time before it truly becomes powerful."
"If you're thinking someone can eat a Devil Fruit and become a top-tier fighter overnight, that's probably unrealistic."
"A Devil Fruit only opens the path to becoming stronger. How far someone can walk that path depends on the user's own will."
I see.
Deadpool fell into thought.
The reason he wanted to buy another Devil Fruit was simple: he wanted Vanessa to be safer.
After all, he worked as a mercenary.
That meant he had plenty of enemies.
It wasn't like no one had come after him before—he had dealt with all of them.
But Vanessa had still been dragged into the danger and frightened more than once.
And there wasn't much Deadpool could do about it.
Other than moving around, keeping a low profile, and trying not to expose her, he had no real solution.
But now Devil Fruits had changed everything.
He could directly give Vanessa the ability to protect herself.
That said, protection was one thing.
He didn't want to completely change Vanessa's life.
And he definitely didn't want her going through hard combat training or living like a fighter.
In that case, attack-type Devil Fruits weren't the best fit.
"What about defensive Devil Fruits, then?" Deadpool thought it over and asked again.
"Of course we have those too."
"And those wouldn't need intense training, right?"
"All Devil Fruits need to be developed. Otherwise, the user only gets a very basic version of the ability."
"Still, for defensive-type Devil Fruits, even a basic ability is usually enough to deal with attacks from knives or guns."
That was enough for Deadpool.
He had his answer.
A defensive Devil Fruit it was.
"Got it, boss. I know what I'm going to choose now. In a few days, I'll probably come by again and buy another Devil Fruit."
"Really, Wade? I'll be looking forward to it."
Rorschach couldn't help smiling.
Deadpool looked unreliable as hell, but when it actually came to getting things done, he was surprisingly solid.
Not only had he introduced a big customer, he was planning to come back and buy again in just a few days.
Excellent.
A premium customer.
"Discount! Don't forget my discount when the time comes!"
Deadpool emphasized that point heavily before closing the app.
"Time to get to work."
Sitting on a rooftop under the moonlight, Deadpool muttered to himself and dialed a number.
A moment later, someone answered.
"Mr. Wade. Have you changed your mind?"
"Yes, Wesley. I've changed my mind. I can take the job. But five hundred thousand is too low. We're talking about Daredevil, the famous Devil of Hell's Kitchen."
"Mr. Wade, price has never been the issue. Especially for a legendary mercenary like you, our boss would never be stingy with money. What I'd like to know is—what made you change your mind?"
"You people who hire killers are so damn annoying. Why do you always ask so many questions?" Deadpool snapped. "I need money now. A lot of it. Happy?"
"Mr. Wade, do you have time right now? Shall we meet at the usual place?"
"Done."
After hanging up, Deadpool leapt straight off the rooftop and vanished into the night.
Two hours later, he arrived outside an abandoned building in Hell's Kitchen, swaggering in with his usual flashy walk.
But at the entrance, two guards stopped him.
"Mr. Wade, you can't bring any weapons inside."
Inside the yard, Wesley was already waiting for him and called out from a distance.
"How ironic. Murderers with no guts."
Deadpool mocked them without mercy, but he still pulled the two swords off his back and handed them over to the guards.
Only then was he allowed inside.
"You do realize that if I really wanted to kill you, I wouldn't need swords, right?"
Deadpool dropped into a seat across from Wesley without the slightest courtesy.
"I don't doubt that," Wesley said, adjusting his glasses. "Assuming you really are Mr. Wade."
Then he made his demand.
"Now, remove your mask."
"Sorry, are we on a date? Do you need to check if I'm handsome first?"
"I'm verifying your identity. I hope you understand."
"The man who rules Hell's Kitchen is really this timid? If you don't trust me, then let—"
"Shh." Wesley cut him off coldly. "We never say his name. And Mr. Wade, if you still want to continue this conversation, then take off your mask."
"Okay, okay. What a pain."
He clearly didn't like it, but this was the employer's condition.
In the end, Deadpool still removed his mask.
And the moment he did, a completely renewed face appeared before Wesley.