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american comcis _ tales of caltiveter _chapter_0196_part_04
Chapter 381
chapter 0196 part 4
Among these spoils of war were the experimenters from the Base and the mutants William Stryker had caught and brought back.
Half an hour later, several Military helicopters hovered over this mountain forest.
"Did a flood disaster happen here?"
A Black Person wearing a Federal Army Colonel's uniform held military binoculars, looking at the scene of the vast flood raging.
"Officer, X Base has been destroyed, the current situation is unclear. We need to mobilize nearby detection satellites and monitoring information to confirm!"
"I will authorize you immediately. X Base concerns the Department of Defense's military secrets and must not be leaked. If necessary, a secondary destruction can be carried out!"
At The Pentagon, the Gray-haired Lieutenant General's complexion was very bad. The Weapon X Program was too involved and had too bad an influence.
If William Stryker wasn't dead, it would be fine, but if he died, he would have to take the blame!
Definitely, definitely block the news!
"Connect me to the Network Regulatory Department!" The Lieutenant General picked up the red telephone on the oak table.
...
Wade Wilson, or rather, Deadpool, was wearing a black and red full-body tight suit, lying on the sofa in a certain Dilapidated Apartment, watching the evening news on the television.
He was cursing, spitting out more censored swear words than normal words in a sentence.
"A meteor fell in a mountain forest in the small town of Monga, causing the mountain forest to be completely burned down. A fifty-year-old dam was destroyed by the meteor."
The female Host broadcasting the evening news on the television had a beautiful face, with blonde hair lazily draped over her shoulders. Her ordinary professional attire clung to her body, outlining exaggerated curves that other working women did not possess.
Deadpool gave a yawn, pulled out his katana from behind his back, and used the wooden scabbard to scratch his butt crack back and forth. "So boring..."
As a motor-mouthed jerk who liked to meddle, Deadpool had fallen into a very ordinary empty situation. There was no one to cut, no money to earn, no chicks to pick up.
For him, a stable and uneventful life was like a pool of stagnant despair. Excitement and chaos, blood and gunpowder smoke were everything this Mercenary pursued.
And so, he stood up from the sofa.
Deadpool let out a turbid breath, facing the mirror, gazing at his body under the tight suit, which wasn't particularly burly but had clearly defined muscle lines, containing terrifying explosive power.
Swish, two katanas were drawn from their scabbards. The sharp blades reflected a gentle cold light like a green ripple under the moonlight. The straight blood grooves on them were like a pair of parted lips, attempting to lick blood tonight.
Deadpool pulled the curtains shut. Clang, he pressed the two katanas against the beige mottled curtain fabric, and sat down at the computer desk where instant noodles and cigarette butts were placed.
He turned on the power, plugged in his headphones, and browsed the web.
Deadpool was a Warrior. He had a warrior's hands, and these calloused hands would listen to the wails of countless lives tonight.
A stack of paper rolls was placed on the left side of the keyboard, like a silent, solemn tombstone, about to witness the brilliant radiance like fireworks at the moment life passes away.
Unfortunately, this quiet night was interrupted.
Sounds of fighting came from the Rooftop of the Dilapidated Apartment.
This was ordinary. New York was a metropolis, where countless others lurked.
Superhuman with supernatural powers often fell into inexplicable battles, on Secluded Rooftop, in streets and alleys, in the Downtown Center. New York citizens had long been accustomed to this noisy and flashy life, and Deadpool was no exception.
And so, he turned up the volume on his headphones to maximum, attempting to eliminate noise interference and immerse himself in his own battle.
But the fighting on the Rooftop continued. Gunfire rang out like a string of firecrackers, covering up the beautiful music in his headphones.
Deadpool got angry.
He picked up the mouse and clicked, temporarily stopping the paid movie on the computer so as not to miss the exciting shots.
He was going to check out the situation on the Rooftop. If it was irrelevant, he would casually chop those people disturbing his mood into useless parts that couldn't be reprocessed.
Blades carried behind his back, firearms tucked into his waist, Deadpool pulled up his zipper.
Tap, tap, tap.
Footsteps echoed in the lonely staircase. Deadpool kicked open the Iron Gate to the Rooftop and shouted loudly, "You damned stinking idiots, don't you know how to tone it down late at night?! Do you understand disturbing the peace laws?! I'll f*ck your blood—"
His words were suddenly cut off.
Because the people fighting on the Rooftop were people Deadpool coincidentally knew.
One of the Youngster was slightly thin and weak, wearing a red and blue tight suit adorned with white spiderweb patterns. Web-like viscous silk sprayed from his wrist, and his figure moved and dodged, agile and light.
The other one, meanwhile, was a Blind Person holding a blind cane.
These two people competing stopped simultaneously after Deadpool shouted.
...
The Pentagon, Secretary of Defense's Office. The beautiful Miss Secretary held warm coffee, testing the temperature in her mouth.
Mr. Raman looked up at the ceiling above his head, took a deep breath, and shivered. The Minister's Office door was roughly pushed open.
Among these spoils of war were the experimenters from the Base and the mutants William Stryker had caught and brought back.
Half an hour later, several Military helicopters hovered over this mountain forest.
"Did a flood disaster happen here?"
A Black Person wearing a Federal Army Colonel's uniform held military binoculars, looking at the scene of the vast flood raging.
"Officer, X Base has been destroyed, the current situation is unclear. We need to mobilize nearby detection satellites and monitoring information to confirm!"
"I will authorize you immediately. X Base concerns the Department of Defense's military secrets and must not be leaked. If necessary, a secondary destruction can be carried out!"
At The Pentagon, the Gray-haired Lieutenant General's complexion was very bad. The Weapon X Program was too involved and had too bad an influence.
If William Stryker wasn't dead, it would be fine, but if he died, he would have to take the blame!
Definitely, definitely block the news!
"Connect me to the Network Regulatory Department!" The Lieutenant General picked up the red telephone on the oak table.
...
Wade Wilson, or rather, Deadpool, was wearing a black and red full-body tight suit, lying on the sofa in a certain Dilapidated Apartment, watching the evening news on the television.
He was cursing, spitting out more censored swear words than normal words in a sentence.
"A meteor fell in a mountain forest in the small town of Monga, causing the mountain forest to be completely burned down. A fifty-year-old dam was destroyed by the meteor."
The female Host broadcasting the evening news on the television had a beautiful face, with blonde hair lazily draped over her shoulders. Her ordinary professional attire clung to her body, outlining exaggerated curves that other working women did not possess.
Deadpool gave a yawn, pulled out his katana from behind his back, and used the wooden scabbard to scratch his butt crack back and forth. "So boring..."
As a motor-mouthed jerk who liked to meddle, Deadpool had fallen into a very ordinary empty situation. There was no one to cut, no money to earn, no chicks to pick up.
For him, a stable and uneventful life was like a pool of stagnant despair. Excitement and chaos, blood and gunpowder smoke were everything this Mercenary pursued.
And so, he stood up from the sofa.
Deadpool let out a turbid breath, facing the mirror, gazing at his body under the tight suit, which wasn't particularly burly but had clearly defined muscle lines, containing terrifying explosive power.
Swish, two katanas were drawn from their scabbards. The sharp blades reflected a gentle cold light like a green ripple under the moonlight. The straight blood grooves on them were like a pair of parted lips, attempting to lick blood tonight.
Deadpool pulled the curtains shut. Clang, he pressed the two katanas against the beige mottled curtain fabric, and sat down at the computer desk where instant noodles and cigarette butts were placed.
He turned on the power, plugged in his headphones, and browsed the web.
Deadpool was a Warrior. He had a warrior's hands, and these calloused hands would listen to the wails of countless lives tonight.
A stack of paper rolls was placed on the left side of the keyboard, like a silent, solemn tombstone, about to witness the brilliant radiance like fireworks at the moment life passes away.
Unfortunately, this quiet night was interrupted.
Sounds of fighting came from the Rooftop of the Dilapidated Apartment.
This was ordinary. New York was a metropolis, where countless others lurked.
Superhuman with supernatural powers often fell into inexplicable battles, on Secluded Rooftop, in streets and alleys, in the Downtown Center. New York citizens had long been accustomed to this noisy and flashy life, and Deadpool was no exception.
And so, he turned up the volume on his headphones to maximum, attempting to eliminate noise interference and immerse himself in his own battle.
But the fighting on the Rooftop continued. Gunfire rang out like a string of firecrackers, covering up the beautiful music in his headphones.
Deadpool got angry.
He picked up the mouse and clicked, temporarily stopping the paid movie on the computer so as not to miss the exciting shots.
He was going to check out the situation on the Rooftop. If it was irrelevant, he would casually chop those people disturbing his mood into useless parts that couldn't be reprocessed.
Blades carried behind his back, firearms tucked into his waist, Deadpool pulled up his zipper.
Tap, tap, tap.
Footsteps echoed in the lonely staircase. Deadpool kicked open the Iron Gate to the Rooftop and shouted loudly, "You damned stinking idiots, don't you know how to tone it down late at night?! Do you understand disturbing the peace laws?! I'll f*ck your blood—"
His words were suddenly cut off.
Because the people fighting on the Rooftop were people Deadpool coincidentally knew.
One of the Youngster was slightly thin and weak, wearing a red and blue tight suit adorned with white spiderweb patterns. Web-like viscous silk sprayed from his wrist, and his figure moved and dodged, agile and light.
The other one, meanwhile, was a Blind Person holding a blind cane.
These two people competing stopped simultaneously after Deadpool shouted.
...
The Pentagon, Secretary of Defense's Office. The beautiful Miss Secretary held warm coffee, testing the temperature in her mouth.
Mr. Raman looked up at the ceiling above his head, took a deep breath, and shivered. The Minister's Office door was roughly pushed open.
