Deadpool and Little Spider

This was no place to linger. Duke left without hesitation.

Before he went, he kicked Deadpool off the overpass, then spat viciously down at him.

Teleporting away once more, Duke appeared atop a residential building in the distance. He used telekinesis to grab several pieces of clothing, refined them into a shirt and trousers, then felt something was missing and made himself a lab coat as well.

After running into unreliable two-way plugs in two consecutive crossings, Duke’s face twisted like he was constipated just thinking about it. He raised the ring set with the Space Stone, breathed on it, and reverently polished it. "Allah, God, Bodhisattvas, Buddha, Jade Emperor, Three Pure Ones, Dao Ancestor, whoever you are, bless your devout follower. Please don’t let me run into Deadpool next time!"

After saying that, he poured magic into the ring and set off on another journey through time and space.

It was still the moon… Fine, no more nonsense!

Duke had learned his lesson this time. Instead of randomly picking an aura, he chose one he recognized and teleported to its owner’s side.

The person he chose was none other than Steve. The moment he sensed the captain’s aura, he had the urge to leave. But his lucky streak mentality made him decide to take a look first. Maybe there would be an unexpected gain.

Unfortunately, cruel reality slapped him in the face yet again. Ignoring the nature of things, defying the fundamental laws of their development, and imagining they would unfold according to one’s own wishes or preferences—that was nothing but daydreaming!

Thoughts like, "He only has one bar of health left, watch me tower-dive and finish him in style," or, "I only had one beer, driving home will be easy," were… doomed to fail!

Avengers Tower, New York!

When Duke appeared beside Steve, splattering hot blood covered him from head to toe. He stared dumbly at Steve, who had been cut in half at the waist by a shield and was still spraying bloody foam from his mouth. His mind could not process what he was seeing.

What was going on? Marvel’s favorite son had gone down?

When he looked around, he immediately sucked in a cold breath. Doctor Strange, Hawkeye, Thor, Natasha, the Fantastic Four, Wolverine, Ms. Marvel, Black Panther, Colossus, Storm, Daredevil—every notable powerhouse in Marvel lay in pools of blood. They were dead, utterly dead.

Oh, and Iron Man too! His head had been severed by a blade and placed right on the office desk.

The bodies of the heroes were piled atop one another. The entire room looked like a slaughterhouse for superheroes, reeking with nauseating blood and rot.

Deadpool sat boldly in the boss’s chair, pushing against the floor and spinning in circles. He wiped down his blade while humming a cheerful tune. When Duke appeared by teleportation, the hand wiping the sword visibly paused.

"Buddy, we meet again!" Deadpool tilted his head, then asked in confusion three seconds later, "Huh! Why did I say again?"

Duke fell silent for a moment, then teleported to the roof of Avengers Tower and stared speechlessly at the heavens. "Are none of the gods and Buddhas up there reliable? Why has Deadpool shown up in three worlds in a row? Has he already conquered every world?"

With a crisp click, Deadpool pushed open the rooftop door and drew his sword, pointing it at Duke. "Buddy, do we know each other? Why do I always feel like we’ve seen each other naked? Damn it, tell me! Who was behind that night? You, or me?"

Duke finally understood why Deadpool had his mouth sewn shut in the X-Men world.

"Buddy, are you here to join the Avengers? Unfortunately, they just moved their headquarters to Hell. But it’s fine. Kind Grandpa Deadpool will personally send you there. A one-way ticket to Hell, free of charge! For the sake of our deep exchanges in the past, Grandpa Deadpool won’t let you feel any pain… Just like that night, I’ll try to be gentle when I stab you!"

After rattling off a load of nonsense, Deadpool darted toward Duke and drew his blade across the carotid artery in his neck. A cold flash cut through the air. The two passed each other, and Deadpool looked at his spotless blade before turning around to discover that he had only struck an afterimage.

"Where did that guy go?" Deadpool stood atop the building, looking down over every street corner in New York, but found nothing. Duke had vanished into thin air.

"Could he be some random superhero crashing the story? Damn editors…" Deadpool grumbled as he sheathed his sword and left Avengers Tower. Plenty more heroes were waiting for him to harvest.

On the far side of the moon, Duke, having crossed over for the fourth time, floated cross-legged in the air. He stared at the blue Earth before him, unable to make up his mind, tangled in indescribable conflict.

"One last try. If it’s still Deadpool, I don’t want the Space Stone anymore." Duke clenched the ring in his palm, but after thinking it over, he could not bear to throw it away.

Closing his eyes, Duke sensed the Earth before him, and his expression changed again. There were no zombies, nor were there any Marvel powerhouses. The Earth before him was completely different from the previous ones—ordinary, yet full of vitality. Most importantly, there was no Deadpool on this Earth.

"Fuck, I finally got rid of that freak! This is the proper way to use the Space Stone!" Duke’s eyes moistened, and he nearly burst into tears.

The Earth below was peaceful and ordinary, but Duke did not feel the slightest dissatisfaction. He locked onto the strongest aura in New York and teleported away.

Queens, New York!

Queens was chaotic beneath the night sky. Nothing that happened here would seem strange. Duke landed in a dark street corner. At the crosswalk ahead, the crowd had formed layer upon layer of packed circles. A police car was parked by the road, and the officers were calling for an ambulance while trying to clear the crowd.

Duke’s sharp ears caught everything clearly. From the pedestrians’ conversations, he learned that an old man had been attacked by an armed criminal.

"Heh, America!" Duke sneered coldly. Sensing that the strongest aura was in the center of the crowd, he walked over.

Generally speaking, the strongest person in every world was closely tied to that world’s destiny. Once you knew their identity, you could quickly deduce which world you were in.

Duke had used the same method in the first three worlds. Unfortunately, those worlds were filled with powerful figures, so Duke could only draw lots and choose one at random. He ended up losing three times in a row, so thoroughly beaten that he had no temper left.

His incredibly terrible luck was enough to prove that the world did not favor him.

This world gave him far fewer concerns. There were limited powerhouses here, only a handful in total. If things went smoothly, he would immediately know where he was. Even if his luck was bad, a few more teleports would settle it.

Pushing through the tightly packed crowd, Duke saw his target. The owner of that aura, far stronger than an ordinary person’s, was only a young man who had just come of age. Tears streamed down his face as he clutched the hand of the wounded old man and cried, "I’m here, Uncle Ben!"

The old man called Uncle Ben opened his clouded eyes and looked at the young man with lingering affection. Weakly, he said, "Peter… with great power… comes great responsibility!"

Upon hearing that famous warning echoed across countless worlds, how could Duke not know where he was?

The thick-browed young man was the representative of the poor man’s mutation world, a founding-level iconic figure—Loserman… Ahem, Spider-Man. Little Spider had indirectly caused his uncle’s death, was dirt poor, had fallen out with his brother, and his girlfriend put green hats on him every other day.

Peter Parker was already miserable enough as a household-name superhero. Everyone should stop making fun of him!

Duke cursed inwardly. It was not Deadpool, but Spider-Man also wore a red skintight suit, and his mouthiness was not much worse. Just as Duke turned to leave, Little Spider suddenly stepped in front of him and pleaded as though clutching at a lifeline, "Are you a doctor?"

Duke looked down. Because he was wearing a lab coat, he had been mistaken for a doctor… Wait! Dentists and Proctology Doctors were doctors too!

With approval in his eyes, he patted Little Spider on the shoulder and praised, "Kid, you’ve got a good eye!"

"Huh!?" Little Spider looked completely baffled. Was that really hard to tell?

Duke turned and walked over to Uncle Ben. Squatting down, he held his hand above the gunshot wound. "To pick me out at a glance from such a vast crowd, it seems your uncle’s life isn’t meant to end yet!"

Little Spider cursed inwardly, thinking he had run into a lunatic. He was about to tell Duke to stay away from his uncle when he saw an orange-yellow bullet slowly float out of Uncle Ben’s wound. Then a beam of white light descended. Uncle Ben’s complexion immediately became rosy, and he let out a comfortable groan before falling into a deep sleep accompanied by snores.

Little Spider stared in stunned disbelief. Raised beneath academic disciplines and science, when had he ever seen such fantastical medical treatment? After being bitten by a mutated spider, his nerves were tough enough that he quickly recovered and exclaimed, "Are you God?"

Duke stood up, dusted off his hands, slipped them into his lab coat pockets, and smiled. "I’m not God. On the contrary, I’m the devil!"

"But you saved—"

Little Spider was about to argue when he suddenly noticed how unnaturally quiet the surrounding crowd was. After witnessing such a fantastical scene, there had not been a single cry of amazement. He looked into the crowd, and cold sweat immediately poured down his forehead.

The onlookers, along with the police officers, stood there motionless, looking lost and vacant. Their dilated eyes held no focus whatsoever. It was as though an evil mage had cast a binding spell on them, or as though the devil had taken their souls and left behind nothing but empty shells.

"I’m kidding!" Duke clapped his hands together. "I was just trying to scare you. Don’t take it seriously."

"That joke wasn’t funny at all." Little Spider forced out a stiff smile. His gaze passed Duke and swept over Uncle Ben.