Deadpool was wielding Wolverine's claws, jamming them through the head of a TVA pruning squad soldier. Maybe the claws had been buried underground too long, or maybe Deadpool just wasn't used to them. Either way, Azuma Shoyo witnessed Deadpool accidentally stab himself with them.
"Ouch! That's gotta hurt!" Azuma Shoyo winced, though he wasn't talking about Deadpool's self-inflicted wound. He meant the poor guy Deadpool had just skewered through the lower body with Wolverine's claws.
That had to be insanely painful. And even if the guy survived, the psychological scars would haunt him for life.
The kicker? Deadpool, being the clown he was, couldn't even pull the claws out. Then another pruning squad member rushed in, and Azuma Shoyo saw something that made his teeth ache and goosebumps rise.
Watching this up close was a totally different experience from seeing it on a screen. No wonder people called Deadpool a freak—couldn't he stab somewhere else? They were all guys here; no need to make it so brutal for fellow men!
Maybe Deadpool heard the audience's internal griping, or maybe he felt a little sheepish himself. Either way, Azuma Shoyo saw him abandon Wolverine's claws, finally freeing his hands—and sparing Azuma Shoyo's eyes.
If that had gone on any longer, Azuma Shoyo might've needed to rinse his eyes out.
Splurch!
The sound of a blade piercing flesh rang out. Azuma Shoyo glanced back to see Deadpool finish off the last pruning squad soldier with his katana.
What happened to not using weapons? Maybe that comment about Wolverine being "the only valuable thing Canada ever produced" had stung Deadpool's pride. After all, Deadpool was Canadian too. He couldn't stand hearing that Wolverine was Canada's only claim to fame.
What about him, the great Deadpool?
After slaughtering the TVA squad, Deadpool sheathed his katana, wiping the blood off the blade first. "Hey! Hello? Can you see me?" he called out, turning to wave at Azuma Shoyo. He jogged over, circling him once.
"You don't look like TVA, so you're not with these losers on the ground, right?" Deadpool said, leaning in to stare into his eyes.
"Please! Not so close—your blood stench is overwhelming," Azuma Shoyo said, pushing Deadpool back a bit. "You're right, I don't know these guys. But like them, I'm here for you."
"You shouldn't be here," Deadpool said. "This is my gig with the little wolf cub. Oh my God, who's running around crashing scenes again? Don't you know you're stealing my spotlight?!"
"So what?" Azuma Shoyo replied, eyeing the slightly unhinged Deadpool. He knew this guy could break the fourth wall, fully aware he was a fictional character in a fictional world. Deadpool didn't seem to mind—actually, he found it fun. To everyone else, though, he just looked crazy.
"So, don't follow me! Or Uncle Deadpool's gonna start swinging!" Deadpool growled, trying to sound menacing.
"Swinging? Like this?" Azuma Shoyo said. With a light push, he sent Deadpool flying. A loud boom echoed as Deadpool soared thousands of meters, crashing into a mountainside.
Inside a massive crater halfway up the mountain, Deadpool lay buried under rubble, looking like a pile of mush. After a moment, he opened his eyes, gasping for air as if coming back to life. He awkwardly realigned his broken arms and legs, crawling out from the debris.
"So, Uncle Deadpool still wanna swing?" Azuma Shoyo's voice came from above.
Deadpool looked up to see Azuma Shoyo hovering in the air, arms crossed, grinning down at him.
"Shit! I didn't know Henry had an Asian brother ten years younger! You from Krypton too? Oh my God, this is a Disney set, not DC!" Deadpool ranted, flailing his arms and stomping his feet in a mock tantrum.
Azuma Shoyo just watched, giving him a moment to cool off. Sure enough, Deadpool settled down after a bit.
"Okay, fine, I was too loud. I'm sorry. But you can't steal my spotlight!" Deadpool said, pointing up at him.
Azuma Shoyo landed in front of him. "I'm not interested in your spotlight. Can I go now?"
Deadpool drooped like a wilted eggplant, pulling out a TVA device and opening a door behind him. "I'm not holding it open for you," he huffed, then darted through.
Whoosh! The door slammed shut.
He really didn't leave it open. But Azuma Shoyo hadn't planned on using that door anyway. He raised his hand, tracing a circle with the sling ring. A dimensional portal flared to life, and he stepped through.
On the other side was a bar. Deadpool had just emerged from his door, casually catching a handaxe tossed his way and tossing it back to a bewildered bar patron playing with it.
"Logan!" Deadpool shouted, spotting Wolverine at the bar counter, dressed in a black tank top.
At that moment, a sparking portal opened nearby, and Azuma Shoyo stepped out.
Deadpool, "…"
He clutched his head, looking anguished. "This guy's a ghost that won't leave me alone! He's stealing my spotlight on purpose—I can tell he's out to get me!" Deadpool turned to the empty air beside him. "Look at this! He's even ripped off a magician's trick and stole the props. Shameless!"
Azuma Shoyo, "…"
I'm standing right here, and I can hear you! Who's shameless?
"You, the clown in the circus outfit—are you here for me?" Over at the bar, Logan hopped off his stool.
Well, "hopped" was accurate—he was barely four feet tall. His broad upper body paired with stubby legs was downright comical.
Deadpool couldn't hold it in. "Hahaha! Oh my God, they actually found a comic-accurate Logan! I can't—my stomach!" He doubled over, laughing hysterically.
That sent the pint-sized Logan into a rage. "You mocking me?" he snarled, unsheathing his claws.
"And you!" He turned to Azuma Shoyo. "You two together?"
Azuma Shoyo waved his hands. "Nope, not with him. You guys carry on—I'll check outside."
--- Translator Note ---
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