Chapter 99: The Four of Room 404

Chapter 99: The Four of Room 404

Inside Room 404.

As soon as the door opened, a blur darted back and forth around the room.

Simultaneously playing ping pong, gaming, and reading.

Hanging from the ceiling beam was a blue figure, its long blue tail wrapped tightly around the beam, patiently reading a book.

"Guys, we've got an interesting newcomer."

At Wade's call, the blur came to a halt, revealing a white-haired young man, while the blue-skinned youth flipped down from the ceiling.

"This is the new guy, Allen. He's got healing abilities," Wade introduced. "White hair is Quicksilver, and blue skin is Nightcrawler. Their powers are super cool."

"I know them," Allen interjected. "I'm not exactly a stranger around here."

"…"

Wade suddenly remembered—Allen's abilities were quite similar to his own.

"You know us?" Quicksilver asked curiously. "Then tell me my full name."

"Pietro Django Maximoff. Wanda is your sister," Allen answered offhandedly. "Is she at the school?"

"She ran away from home years ago. No one knows where she is," Pietro said, his mood dimming.

"No worries, she's probably out learning magic or dating someone."

After all, Scarlet Witch's Chaos Magic could rewrite reality. A single phrase from her—"No more mutants"—and ninety-nine percent of mutants were wiped out.

Not that it mattered. The insignificant ones disappeared, while the truly powerful mutants kept thriving.

Allen felt relieved that he wasn't a mutant.

"What about me?" Nightcrawler asked expectantly.

"Kurt Wagner. Are your parents Azazel and Mystique?"

Allen remembered that Nightcrawler's origins varied between the comics and movies.

"I don't know. I've met Mystique, and I can confirm she's not my mother," Kurt said, looking a little sad.

He had lived in a circus since childhood, only to be sold to an underground fight club when it went bankrupt.

By the time Professor X found him, he was hiding in the sewers just trying to survive.

Nightcrawler's life had been nothing short of tragic. Fortunately, he'd met a priest who became his mentor, providing him with both shelter and guidance toward righteousness.

That was why Kurt never resented those who hurt him and was even willing to help those in need.

Still, his natural blue skin often made people see him as a demon.

Even so, he would simply teleport away rather than retaliate.

"Don't be sad, Smurf. You've got us," Allen comforted.

"Waaah!" Kurt suddenly burst into tears.

How did he end up as a Smurf?

The reason the three of them shared a room was obvious.

No normal person wanted to deal with Deadpool.

Nightcrawler looked like a literal demon—imagine waking up at midnight to see that. Sleep paralysis guaranteed.

And Quicksilver? His father was Magneto, the leader of the extremist Brotherhood of Mutants. To put it bluntly, the son of a known terrorist. No one wanted to be associated with that.

So, they were stuck together, making the best of it.

"Since fate brought us together, I suggest we feast."

Food and drinks always helped build friendships. At Allen's suggestion, the group exchanged glances.

Wade raised a serious question. "Do you have money?"

"Do I look like I have money?" Allen glanced at his hospital gown. Not a single pocket for cash.

He turned his gaze toward Quicksilver and Nightcrawler. The two of them shook their heads like rattles.

As if they would have money when Wade didn't.

"Figures. Marvel heroes are either ridiculously rich thanks to technology or broke because of mutations. Unlike DC heroes, who at least have real jobs—being a hero is just a side gig for them."

Allen's analysis was spot on, and Wade nodded in agreement.

Marvel heroes treated hero work like a profession, and the ones who had money inherited it from their ancestors.

Rich equals tech. Poor equals mutation. No better way to put it.

"No worries, a small issue like this won't stop me."

Allen smirked. "I noticed a lake near the school with a bunch of fat swans. Quicksilver, grab a couple. We'll have roast goose."

"Wade and Smurf, gather some seasoning," Allen flicked his hair dramatically. "I won't hide it anymore—I'm a master of the eight major Chinese cuisines."

"You can cook too?" Wade asked, clearly skeptical.

Allen puffed out his chest. "I radiate talent! Even my farts carry the fragrance of wisdom."

No more words. Time for action.

Kurt grabbed their hands and teleported them to the forest behind the school.

In the next second, Pietro vanished and reappeared within three seconds, holding two plump gray geese.

Wade and Kurt teleported back to the cafeteria to steal some seasonings.

Meanwhile, Allen pulled the Redemption Blade from… somewhere… and began preparing the ingredients. Quicksilver gathered firewood and started a fire.

After two hours of work, the group finally stopped doubting Allen's skills.

The once-symbolic lovebirds were now golden brown, crispy on the outside, and tender on the inside, emitting an irresistible aroma.

It was probably a mating pair. They even died together.

Each of them grabbed a drumstick and ate with gusto.

Allen devoured his in a few bites, sucking on the bones as he spoke. "I have a business idea. With our combined talents, we could make a fortune, reach the peak of life, and marry rich beauties."

The three of them looked at him with glowing eyes.

Deadpool had never been rich. Despite taking on numerous bounties, his money always mysteriously vanished.

Quicksilver grew up in a single-parent household and was too ashamed to ask his mother for money. As for his father, Magneto, the guy was too busy with his grand plans to care about his neglected son.

Nightcrawler? He was a literal orphan. His looks were a disadvantage, too—he couldn't even beg without getting beaten up.

"Selling breakfast at school—genius or what?"

Allen outlined his plan. "I handle the cooking. Wade promotes. Kurt delivers. Pietro helps in the kitchen. There's no way we won't be successful."

"We have no money," Pietro pointed out the biggest flaw.

Four people and not a single dollar between them, yet they were talking about starting a business. Even capitalists would be impressed.

"We can borrow some ingredients from the kitchen. Pay them back once we start making money."

Not every parent hated their mutant children. In fact, most sent them here to protect them, not abandon them. They probably had some pocket money.

"Someone's coming!"

Kurt's sharp senses detected an approaching figure. His expression changed. "It's the Dean—Logan!"

"Wolverine?"

Before Allen could react, Kurt teleported them all back to their dorm.

Moments later, a figure emerged from the forest.

Logan Howlett, the Wolverine, sniffed the air, looking at the sizzling roasted goose. He brought a piece to his nose and inhaled.

"No matter how fast you run, you can't escape my nose."

Unable to resist, he took a bite. His pupils shrank instantly.

Within minutes, only the bones were left.

He eyed the remaining goose.

"…Should I take this back for Charles?" Logan hesitated. "Maybe just one more bite… Just a small one…"