Chapter 9: Team-Building Exercises and Other War Crimes

There is a brief, beautiful period after a big payday that Deadpool liked to call "The Delusional Solvency Phase." It's a magical time when you have enough money to feel rich but haven't yet received the bills that remind you you're poor. The party was neck-deep in this phase, and Deadpool was using it to indulge his newfound calling with the fervor of a religious convert.

He had commissioned a small, velvet-lined mahogany box from Axel's most bewildered carpenter. Inside, nestled on a bed of what he claimed was "ethically sourced griffin down" (it was just chicken feathers he'd collected from behind a butcher shop), lay his prize: the single, singed, magically-infused argyle sock from the ruins of the keep.

"Behold!" he announced at the Guild hall, holding the open box aloft for his party to see. "The First Holy Relic of the Collection! I shall call him 'Argyle the Invincible, Sole Survivor of the Great Cleansing.' I'm starting a catalogue. Item #001."

Kazuma stared into the box, then at Deadpool, then at the bottom of his ale mug, as if hoping to find a portal to another, saner world. "You spent fifty Eris on a fancy box for a single, burnt sock."

"It's not a box, it's a reliquary!" Deadpool corrected him sharply. "And it's not a sock, it's a piece of history! A testament to survival! Do you put the Mona Lisa in a cheap plastic sleeve from the dollar store? No! You show it respect! You give it a good home!"

"We should build a tiny, climate-controlled temple for him," suggested the yellow box, its text shimmering with excitement.

"A sound investment," the white box agreed. "Proper archival preservation is key to maintaining the collection's long-term value."

"See? The boxes get it," Deadpool said, nodding sagely before closing the reliquary with a reverent click.

It was at that moment, staring at the face of his sock-worshipping, unkillable mercenary, that Kazuma made a decision. A terrible, foolish, but necessary decision.

"We need to train," he announced. The rest of the party looked at him as if he'd just suggested they all take up accounting.

"Train?" Aqua scoffed. "Kazuma, I am a goddess. My power is innate. It cannot be 'trained,' only 'unleashed'."

"What's there to train?" Deadpool asked, tucking his sock-box into a pouch. "The plan seems pretty solid. Megumin blows something up, Darkness gets hit, I say something witty, and you have an aneurysm. It's worked for us so far."

"That's not a plan, that's a series of fortunate disasters!" Kazuma insisted, slamming his hands on the table. "We have a tank who can't hit the broad side of a barn and artillery that turns herself into a potted plant after one shot! We need to practice! We need synergy!"

And so, against all common sense, they trudged out to a wide, empty plain a mile out of town. The goal: to forge a mismatched pile of scrap metal into a functioning weapon. The reality: an OSHA investigation waiting to happen.

"Alright, Drill Sergeant Kazuma, what's first on the docket?" Deadpool asked, doing some ostentatious stretching. "Calisthenics? A five-mile run? Trust falls? I call not catching Aqua."

"We're starting with Darkness," Kazuma said, pointing at their Crusader. "Your job is to tank hits. But the guildmaster's report said that in your last party, your accuracy was so bad you never actually hit a single monster."

Darkness looked away, her cheeks flushing. "My… my sword is drawn to the heat of battle! It seeks only the mightiest of blows, often causing me to swing where the enemy's attack will be, not where they are!"

"She's a tank who can't hold aggro because she can't hit anything. Fantastic," Kazuma muttered. "Okay. We'll start simple. Just… stand there. Deadpool, you're on offense."

"Excellent!" Deadpool cracked his knuckles. "A practical exam. My favorite."

He picked up a rock. Before Kazuma could object, he fastball-pitched it directly into Darkness's helmet with a loud CLANG.

Darkness stumbled back, a blissful smile spreading across her face. "Yes… perfect! A surprise attack! Uncouth! Unchivalrous! More!"

Deadpool threw another rock, this time at her kneecap. CLANG. Darkness let out a soft moan of pleasure.

Deadpool stopped, tilting his head. "Okay, this isn't working. The positive reinforcement is screwing with the test results." He walked right up to her, got inches from her face, and shouted, "Your defensive stance is sloppy! Your footwork is a disgrace to Crusaders everywhere! I bet your armor isn't even properly polished under the pauldrons!"

The effect was instantaneous. Darkness gasped, her whole body trembling. Her face was a mask of ecstatic shame. "To be berated so… so thoroughly by a comrade… to have my very core as a knight questioned… this is a humiliation beyond my wildest dreams!"

Deadpool recoiled, genuinely confused. "What is wrong with you?! I'm trying to insult you! To break your spirit! Standard drill sergeant stuff! Why do you look like you just won the lottery?!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "This is pointless! It's like trying to put out a fire with gasoline! She's psychologically invincible! Let's move on before I accidentally give her a coregasm!"

Kazuma, looking pale, agreed. "Okay… fine. Megumin. You're next." He pointed to a scarecrow they had set up on a distant hill. "Your target is the scarecrow. Not the hill. Not the clouds behind the hill. Just the scarecrow."

"A challenge worthy of my talents!" Megumin declared, stepping forward.

Deadpool immediately took on the role of a hype man. "Ladies and gentlemen, freaks and geeks! Direct your attention to the center stage! The Crimson Demon, the Sorceress of Kaboom, the one and only Megumin, is about to bless us with her singular, explosive art form! Give her a round of applause!" he yelled at the empty field.

Megumin began her chant, the energy gathering, the wind whipping.

"She's really committing to the bit," Deadpool said to Kazuma, pulling out his reliquary and opening it. "Witness this, Argyle," he whispered to the sock. "This is true passion."

"EXPLOSION!"

The result was predictable. The scarecrow vanished. The hill it was on vanished. A significant portion of the sky behind the hill seemed to have been temporarily misplaced. The shockwave knocked them all flat, except for Deadpool, who had learned to surf it, and Megumin collapsed, rigid and useless.

Deadpool wiped a tear from his eye. "It's beautiful every single time. 10/10. No notes."

He patiently loaded their living artillery onto his back. "Okay, Aqua, you're up. Your turn to contribute to this team-building train wreck."

"My contribution will be flawless, as always," she sniffed. Kazuma's task for her was simple: heal a training dummy they had covered in mud, to simulate cleansing a curse.

Aqua looked at the muddy dummy with disdain. "A task so simple, it is beneath me. But, I shall demonstrate my overwhelming superiority! Sacred Purifying Cleanse!"

Instead of a gentle, healing glow, a jet of water with the pressure of a firehose erupted from her hands, blasting the dummy to smithereens. The torrent of water then hit Deadpool, who was standing behind the dummy admiring his sock. It picked him up and sent him tumbling head over heels across the field, where he landed in a crumpled, waterlogged heap.

He emerged a moment later, sputtering. "Okay! So her purification spell is also a firehose! Good to know! Synergy achieved!"

Kazuma didn't say anything. He just sat on the ground, staring into the middle distance, his spirit completely and utterly shattered. Their training exercise had resulted in one emotionally aroused Crusader, one unconscious wizard, one smug goddess, and one waterlogged mercenary. They were not a team. They were a natural disaster in four different flavors.

As Deadpool finished loading Megumin onto his back for the walk home, they saw a figure running frantically toward them from the direction of Axel. It was a rookie adventurer, his face pale with panic.

"It's you!" he gasped, skidding to a halt. "Kazuma's party! The ones who blew up the castle!"

"We prefer 'Aggressive Urban Renewal Specialists'," Deadpool corrected him.

"There's no time!" the adventurer wheezed, pointing back toward the town. "It's the Demon King's army! One of the Generals! He just appeared at the main gate! He's calling himself the 'Headless Knight,' Beldia!"

The party froze.

Kazuma's head snapped up, his catatonic state instantly broken by sheer terror. Aqua let out a small shriek. Darkness, however, had a familiar, ecstatic gleam in her eyes.

Deadpool, however, just grinned, a wide, predatory grin that no one could see but everyone could feel. He cracked his knuckles, the sound like a promise of violence.

"A General?" he said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register. "Headless, you say? Well, boys and girls, it looks like recess is over." He adjusted the unconscious Megumin on his shoulder. "Time to go say hello to the welcoming committee."