In the blink of an eye, Deadpool's skin rippled again.
His entire body reshaped itself.
Muscles shifted.
Bones rearranged.
Skin stretched and reformed.
Within seconds, the transformation was complete.
Standing there now was Bob, wearing a prison guard uniform.
Even the power-inhibiting collar around his neck had been perfectly replicated.
If Bob's own mother had walked in at that moment, she probably would have stared at both of them for several minutes before realizing something was wrong.
Deadpool took a few steps forward.
Then suddenly he stopped.
He awkwardly shuffled his legs.
"…This feels weird."
Visually, he looked fully dressed.
But physically…
He wasn't wearing anything.
His brain could see the clothes.
But his skin couldn't feel them.
It was like walking around naked while wearing invisible pajamas.
Deadpool sighed.
"Never mind."
"The mission comes first."
Later, maybe he could trick the Brotherhood of Mutants into giving him a few more doses of that serum.
Then he could finally enjoy seeing Bernadette Peters again.
He straightened his posture and walked toward the prison entrance.
However, Deadpool did not notice something happening inside his body.
The blue serum he had injected had not completely dissolved.
A small portion of it had been pulled deep into his body.
Deeper.
And deeper.
Until it reached the very core of his internal system.
There, the substance merged with a small sky-blue gas cloud.
The cloud trembled slightly.
Its color deepened by half a shade.
Then it stopped rotating completely.
And remained silent.
---
At the prison entrance, the scene was chaotic.
Emergency sirens still echoed across the island.
Vehicles rushed back and forth.
Injured guards were being carried on stretchers.
Blood-soaked uniforms.
Bandaged limbs.
Some guards groaned in pain as they were rushed toward the prison infirmary.
Meanwhile, other guards—fully armed with rifles and combat gear—were heading toward the battlefield on the east coast of the island.
Some guards even wore mechanical flight armor, with flames blasting from their backs as they flew directly into combat.
It was clear the United States government had invested enormous resources into protecting this prison.
In the distance, one injured guard limped toward the gate.
His left leg was soaked in blood.
The guards stationed at the gate stared in shock.
"Holy crap," one of them said.
"Brother… why didn't you take a ride back?"
The injured guard pointed angrily at his leg.
"Do you seriously want me to drag this leg around while chatting with you?"
Then he said:
"Let's make a deal."
"How about you let me inside for treatment first…"
"And later I'll tell you the thrilling story of how I single-handedly fought three elite members of the Mutant Brotherhood."
"Only to be shot in the leg by a clumsy teammate."
"And then couldn't find a car to bring me back to base."
He placed a dramatic hand over his heart.
"I swear the story will be more exciting than any Marvel movie."
"Well…"
"Except maybe the Deadpool trilogy."
"Uh… okay."
The gate guard clearly had no idea what his colleague was talking about.
But he quickly recovered and began the verification process.
Identification card.
Iris scan.
Fingerprint scan.
Collar integrity check.
Everything matched perfectly.
"Alright," the guard said.
"You're clear."
"Thank you very much," Deadpool replied politely.
"I wish you a wonderful day."
He limped through the gate.
---
After walking a few meters, Deadpool suddenly collapsed against a wall.
"My leg!"
He clutched his thigh dramatically.
"It hurts so much!"
He slowly slid down the wall and sat on the floor.
"Can someone tell me where the damn infirmary is?"
"It would be even better if someone could bring me a self-driving wheelchair."
"Oh!"
"And maybe a hair clipper too."
"I could cosplay Professor Charles Xavier for a while."
A nearby guard hurried over.
"What happened?"
Deadpool stared at him.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"I got shot on the front line."
"And I desperately need a hero to carry me to the infirmary."
He looked up dramatically.
"Will you be my hero?"
"…Uh."
"Sure."
The guard helped him stand up.
"The guard infirmary upstairs is already full," he explained.
"I'll take you to the prisoner infirmary downstairs."
Deadpool nodded gratefully.
"Thank you."
"You are the Prometheus of my life."
The guard laughed.
"Can you change the metaphor?"
"Prometheus didn't have a very good ending."
Deadpool replied calmly.
"Neither will you."
The guard blinked.
"…What?"
Ding.
The elevator doors opened.
Suddenly—
Deadpool broke free from the guard.
He stumbled out of the elevator clutching his injured leg and screamed:
"He's a spy!"
"Catch him!"
"Damn it!"
"My leg!"
"I can't feel my leg!"
The entire hallway exploded into chaos.
An injured guard had just stumbled out of the elevator claiming the other guard was a traitor.
Everyone's instinctive reaction was immediate.
Grab the suspect first.
Within seconds the poor guard was pinned to the ground.
Prometheus struggled desperately.
"I'm innocent!"
But no one was listening.
Meanwhile…
Deadpool had already slipped quietly into a nearby office.
---
Inside the office sat a single person.
A slender Asian woman wearing glasses and a black suit.
She slowly raised her eyes.
Her gaze was cold and sharp.
Deadpool tilted his head.
"Let me guess…"
"You wouldn't happen to be Yuriko Oyama, right?"
Also known as Lady Deathstrike.
One of Wolverine's most dangerous enemies.
The woman who had once been filled with liquid Adamantium by Logan.
The woman removed her glasses slowly.
Then—
Ten razor-sharp metal claws extended from her fingertips.
Her answer was clear.
Deadpool shrugged.
"Well."
"At least I don't have to waste time looking for the prison's high-ranking officials."
Lady Deathstrike definitely had high authority in this facility.
She stepped forward.
Her claws gleamed.
Deadpool quickly raised his hands.
"Wait!"
"Give me a second."
"I want to change into a more appropriate form before we fight."
Lady Deathstrike stared at him suspiciously.
Then she watched something unbelievable happen.
Deadpool's body began shrinking.
His muscles shifted.
His skeleton restructured.
Within seconds he transformed into a short, muscular figure.
Only about 1.6 meters tall.
Deadpool stretched his arms.
"Well."
"I'm ready now."
He sighed.
"Unfortunately I can't grow claws like you."
"So I'll have to use these."
Two carbon steel knives appeared in his hands.
He glanced at his watch.
"I only have about fifty minutes before the serum wears off."
"So let's make this quick."
Lady Deathstrike said nothing.
Her body blurred.
She appeared in front of him instantly.
Her ten claws stabbed toward Deadpool's chest.
Deadpool sighed.
"…kay."
Then he muttered:
"When will you people finally understand?"
"The silent type is outdated."
---
Meanwhile…
Back near the elevator.
Prometheus—the unlucky guard—was still pinned to the ground.
He shouted desperately.
"I'm innocent!"
"That guy was the spy!"
"I demand to see the surveillance footage!"
"I want to see the warden!"
The other guards looked at each other awkwardly.
Once the initial panic faded…
They weren't entirely sure who to believe anymore.
Then one guard asked:
"Wait."
"Where did the injured guy go?"
Everyone looked around.
A moment later someone shouted:
"Check the surveillance!"
"Someone infiltrated the prison!"
Just then—
The office door opened.
Lady Deathstrike stepped out.
Her black suit was soaked in blood.
It looked as though she had just walked out of a slaughterhouse.
Her cold gaze swept across the guards.
"Useless."
No one dared speak.
Under their fearful stares, she calmly took out a white handkerchief and wiped the blood from her face.
Then she walked toward the elevator.
Everyone instinctively stepped aside.
Normally they wouldn't be this frightened of her.
After all, they were trained prison guards.
But at that moment…
Her blood-stained appearance was simply too terrifying.
Inside the elevator, Lady Deathstrike pressed the button for the lowest floor.
Before the doors closed, she gave one final order.
"I'm going down to check on the important prisoners."
"The infiltrator inside that room has self-healing abilities."
"He won't die anytime soon."
"Put an inhibitor collar on him and detain him using the highest security level."
She paused.
Then added coldly:
"The prisoner also has the ability to transform into others."
"No matter what he looks like…"
"Do not trust him."
"Wait for my return."
The guards nodded nervously.
"Yes… yes ma'am."
The elevator doors slowly closed.
And Lady Deathstrike descended toward the deepest level of the prison.
----------------------------------------
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