In the Manhattan, nestled within the gritty heart of Hell's Kitchen, stood a modest seven-story apartment building facing the street.
The ground floor had been converted into a restaurant.
A wooden sign above the door read "GoodLuck ", its faded letters clashing with a newer banner that declared, "BusinessisBooming."
Two red lanterns swayed gently on either side of the entrance. Beneath them lay a scrappy brown dog with a red eye patch covering one socket.
"Alex, are you done yet? I'm starving to death here."
The voice came from a man slouched across a table, his full red bodysuit and matching eye mask making his identity unmistakable.
Deadpool.
"Pushy as ever. You don't pay, yet you're still so picky. Keep that up and you won't get fed, Wade."
A tall, broad-shouldered young man emerged from the kitchen, two plates in hand. He wore a black T-shirt, short black hair tousled above sharp eyes that seemed to carry a weight far beyond his years.
He set the dishes down in front of Deadpool, whose eye patches seemed to glow faintly red under the room's dim lighting.
This man—this mutant mercenary with a twisted sense of humor and unmatched healing—was a regular here. But the one placing the food in front of him was far from ordinary.
His name was Alex Ray.
"Pietro," Alex called to the white-haired young man leaning casually against the bar. "Bring out the rest of the food."
Pietro gave a lazy thumbs-up with his left hand and slid a pair of goggles over his eyes with his right.
In the next instant, he was seated next to Deadpool, Coke in hand, and the table had been filled with four more dishes and a steaming bowl of soup.
"Every time I see that, it blows my mind. Pietro, your powers are the real MVP. If I had your speed, I'd rob banks twice as fast," Wade said, waving his chopsticks dramatically.
"Enough chatter, Wade. Wanda's busy today, so it's just us three for lunch."
As soon as Alex finished speaking, the two mutants dug in like starved wolves. Watching them inhale food, Alex's thoughts drifted.
He had been in the Marvel Universe for twenty-three years. Hell's Kitchen was his home.
His father—killed in a gang shootout—had left him this small apartment complex. He'd graduated college a year ago, now running this restaurant while taking on odd jobs.
He'd met Deadpool during one of those jobs. Due to... certain "system-related" circumstances, he'd ended up offering Wade food and a place to stay.
Yes—the system. A staple for any Transmigrator worth their salt. There was no way anyone could survive twenty-two years in Marvel without one.
Especially in Hell's Kitchen.
Alex had awakened the Friendship System. Once someone truly considered him a friend, the system would grant him random rewards from that person—anything from money to skills, equipment, or abilities.
Even better, deepening that friendship could unlock even greater rewards.
Wanda and Pietro had been rescued during a mission. With nowhere else to go, Alex let them stay. In case another New York-level disaster broke out, they'd at least protect the building.
Otherwise, his dream of being a peaceful landlord would go up in smoke.
Suddenly, a familiar mechanical voice rang out in his head.
"Ding."
"Congratulations, host! Wade Winston Wilson's favorability has reached three stars!"
"Reward: Healing Factor."
"Would you like to merge immediately?"
Alex grinned. Finally—the healing factor. No more worrying about being cannon fodder.
"System," he asked cautiously, "in Deadpool's original story, the healing factor was compatible because of his cancer. If I merge it now, will I explode or something?"
"Negative. The system has optimized compatibility. Please do not underestimate system capabilities."
"Then proceed. Merge it now."
"Fusion initiated."
As soon as he finished speaking, Alex felt his body seize—cells rapidly mutating, rebuilding themselves at an alarming rate. Heat surged through his veins like wildfire.
Moments later, he opened his eyes slowly.
Wade looked up mid-bite, raising an eyebrow at Alex's expression—but shrugged and kept eating.
Alex, meanwhile, felt incredible.
"System, open my panel."
[Name: Alex Ray]
[Race: Human]
[Skills: Combat Techniques Lv10, Healing Factor, Physique Lv10, Enhanced Speed Lv2, Chaos Magic Lv1, Driving Mastery Lv3, Reflexes Lv7, Swordsmanship Lv5, Firearms Lv3, Beast Communication Lv4, Culinary Arts Lv5, Lockpicking Lv3, Robbery Lv2, Five-Finger Discount Lv3...]
[System Evaluation: You're no longer a pushover. You can hold your own against Captain America in a fair fight. But if you see Thanos—drop to your knees and beg for mercy.]
The slight smugness swelling in his chest was instantly deflated.
God, I hope this universe's Thanos is the movie version. If it's the comic one—
The comic Thanos wasn't just snapping away half the universe. That guy would kill everyone, including himself, just to impress Death.
So yeah, best not to poke the Mad Titan yet. First things first—survive the Hell's Kitchen arc. Tony Stark hasn't even suited up yet.
Alex clenched his fists, gaze sharpening.
Make more friends. Build connections. Create your Marvel family.
He even considered befriending the Ancient One—if not for the risk of being exposed as a time traveler.
I wonder if the Ancient One here is the bald man or the bald woman version...
If that didn't work, maybe America Chavez or Cable could open some multiverse doors. Friends across dimensions—now that's a plan.
One day, I'll punch Loki in the face, kick Thanos in the nuts, and make Death herself kneel and sing "Conqueror."
His daydreaming was cut off by Wade, who leaned back, toothpick in hand and belly full.
"There's a big job coming in. Want in, Alex?"
"What kind of job?" Alex's voice flattened with suspicion. "You know how picky I am."
"It's not a hit," Wade said, hands raised. "It's a rescue mission."
"Fifty million dollars," Wade said, raising five fingers.
Alex froze.
The biggest job he'd ever taken before this was five million. Fifty? That was insane.
If Wade hadn't called it a rescue mission, Alex would've assumed they were being hired to assassinate the President.
"Who's the target?"
Now serious, Alex's face hardened. He knew it couldn't be simple.
Wade pointed to the TV.
The broadcast read:
"Tony Stark, world-famous industrialist, playboy, and billionaire, is missing. Stark disappeared during a private trip, causing Stark Industries' stock to plummet."
"Tony freaking Stark? Forget it. We're not taking this one," Pietro snapped, standing up.
"He's a murderer. An arms dealer. Let him rot."
Alex Ray Pic (MC) --->
Deadpool --->
Pietro --->
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