In a hidden warehouse, the elderly wealthy man appeared, accompanied by four bodyguards.
"The item is in hand," the wealthy man said sinisterly.
"That's right, where's the money?" the bald man asked warily, as no one in this line of work could be trusted.
The elderly wealthy man gave a gloomy look and coldly told one of his bodyguards, "Open it."
At his command, the bodyguard pressed a button, and a powerful spotlight in the corner instantly turned on.
The light illuminated the area below, revealing a mountain-like pile of money, all brand new U.S. dollars.
Stacks of banknotes were tightly piled together, shimmering with an alluring glow, as if silently speaking of the power of wealth.
"Ten people, a total of 50 million U.S. dollars."
The bald man and his team members' eyes instantly widened, greedily staring at the money mountain.
In the bald man's estimation, this money was more than enough; he excitedly pulled out the potion formula, eager to hand it over.
However, a cold gleam suddenly flashed!
The bald man felt a chill on his scalp, followed by a warm liquid flowing down his cheek.
He instinctively raised his hand to touch his head, only to find his hand covered in bright red blood.
Before he could even react to what had happened, his body involuntarily tilted forward.
With a dull thud, the bald man fell straight to the ground, his smooth scalp rolling far away under the force of inertia, finally stopping at the wealthy man's feet.
His brain, resembling a fatty sausage, faced the wealthy man, a gruesome sight.
"Not a single bit off, I could be a hairdresser after retirement, it would be very popular."
Deadpool looked at the clean cut and nodded in satisfaction.
"Ugh..."
The elderly wealthy man came back to his senses; having lived a life of luxury, he had never seen such a bloody and terrifying scene, his stomach churned, and he vomited his Eight Treasure Porridge.
"This guy wants to double-cross us, kill him."
The people around also reacted, pulling out their guns and firing at Deadpool.
Gunfire erupted in the dim warehouse, and silver blades flashed in mid-air, constantly striking sparks and intertwining with bullets to create a dazzling yet deadly light show.
Deadpool was too close to them; in just a few moments, his figure moved like a ghost through the crowd.
The long blade in his hand swung like wind, each swing bringing up a spray of blood, his movements as fast as lightning, making him impossible to catch.
The warehouse was filled with screams and the sound of metal clashing; Deadpool was like a demon from hell, mercilessly reaping lives.
The wealthy man frantically picked up the formula and, under the escort of his bodyguards, hastily left the warehouse.
Deadpool quickly dealt with these companions, flicking the blood off his blade; he had several bullet holes on his body, but they didn't affect his movements in the slightest.
"50 million, 50 million, plus these potions, I'll instantly become a billionaire."
Deadpool muttered to himself, came to the money mountain, picked up a stack of banknotes, and excitedly kissed them.
Before he could get too excited, Deadpool noticed that the color inside was wrong.
He flipped through the banknotes in his hand, and inside were only sheets of White paper; when he flipped through other banknotes, only the first one was real, and the rest were all fake.
"Bitch, they're all fake."
Deadpool cursed.
The next second, a ball of Fire erupted before his eyes.
Boom!
A huge explosion rang out, flames shot into the sky, and a Heat Wave swept over, instantly engulfing Deadpool.
The wealthy man watched the warehouse burning with raging flames from outside, triumphantly wiping the corner of his mouth.
"A bunch of poor ghosts, still wanting money, go to hell and ask the Demon King for it!"
Although there was a slight mishap, the outcome remained unchanged.
The wealthy man looked at the formula in his hand, and a look of joyful surprise suddenly erupted in his cloudy eyes.
"With the potion formula, plus Youth Doctor, money and eternal life will all be in my hands, hahahaha!"
He laughed wildly, his laughter echoing in the night sky, appearing particularly eerie and terrifying.
He hadn't laughed for long.
A Pyro suddenly rushed out of the flames, his whole body burning with raging Fire, carrying two steel blades in his hands, charging fiercely like a demon.
"Hand over my money!"
Deadpool's hoarse voice came from within the flames, his entire face had melted into White bone, yet he was not dead, his single eye staring intently at the wealthy man.
The money was fake!
The stolen potion was also gone.
His dream of becoming a billionaire instantly was ruined, and this old man had become the person he hated the most, bar none.
"Kill! Kill him."
The wealthy man's heart stopped in fright, and he screamed hoarsely.
Bang bang bang!
The four bodyguards pulled out their pistols and unhesitatingly fired at the charging Deadpool.
Deadpool did not flinch; bullets caused blood to spurt from his body, some even tearing off a piece of rotten flesh, yet he seemed to feel no pain, still charging forward madly.
The bodyguards were also terrified; they had never seen such a suicidal madman.
Fear instantly consumed their hearts, and they all turned and fled.
"Bastards, take me with you!"
The wealthy man cursed, leaning on his cane, struggling to run.
He had always played business wars, using underhanded tactics, and had never personally faced such a terrifying scene.
However, it was too late to run now.
"Let you blow up my money!"
Deadpool had already reached him, a sinister grin on his face, bringing down the two steel blades in his hands towards his legs.
"Money, I'll give it to you, however much you want."
The wealthy man closed his eyes in fear, but did not feel the onset of pain.
Drops of Water fell from his trouser leg onto the ground; the elderly wealthy man tremblingly opened his eyes, and before him appeared a man dressed in a ninja suit, with a headless corpse lying at his feet.
The elderly wealthy man had not yet spoken.
"Come with us," the ninja-suited man said coldly.
"Whose man are you, do you not know my identity? How dare you speak to me in a commanding tone."
The elderly wealthy man thought these were subordinates of an ally, and he regained his arrogant demeanor, but he did not notice the assassin's mocking gaze.
At this moment, two similarly dressed assassins silently emerged from the Shadow on the ground.
"Number One, the four who fled have been dealt with."
"Number Two, take this wealthy man back to the Base; Number Three, deal with the body on the ground."
"Yes!"
The elderly wealthy man then realized that these assassins who had saved him were not on his side at all.
"Who are you!" he screamed in terror.
Number Two came beside the wealthy man, grabbed his shoulder without a word, and slowly sank into the Shadow.
"Wait, I have a lot of money, no matter how much the people behind you offer, I'll offer double, no, triple, quintuple!"
The elderly wealthy man screamed hoarsely, his voice filled with despair and fear.
He struggled constantly, but his once all-powerful authority was useless at this moment, and his former high status was vulnerable in the face of the current predicament.
As the Shadow began to engulf his head, Number One finally said coldly,
"His Majesty the Demon King asked me to convey his thanks for your contribution."