Melting Pot Concept in Marvel

What the hell?! This is insane!

Deadpool's swords are lightning-fast—chopping bullets in half and deflecting them has always been second nature to him. He can swing his blades in a matter of milliseconds, using that terrifying combination of instincts and dynamic vision to toy with his enemies. As a fellow super-healer, Deadpool's mastery of combat technique can leave even Wolverine, who relies on brute strength, at a disadvantage.

Normally, Deadpool can dazzle other mercenaries with a flurry of airtight sword strikes—yet here he was, getting shown up instead! It'd never happened before, not like this.

"My sword…you're actually matching my speed!"

Deadpool gawked at Aaron.

"I admit your blade is swift," Aaron replied coolly, "but if I activate my magic card—Boosting Hand, how would you fare then?"

He was quite confident. After all, not only did he possess reflexes countless times beyond an ordinary human, but he also had those "magical hands" that even the Primordial Furnace itself had marveled at—so flexible that no one could hold out for long once he used them.

It was those hyper-dexterous hands that let him do all sorts of inhuman moves, combined with physical strength far surpassing Deadpool's.

"See if you can break free—that'd impress me."

Deadpool let out a shrill whine: "Hey, you're the big shot at Oscorp, practically a top-class speedster—why fight us impoverished mercs for a living, huh? Does your mom know you can hit this hard?"

He tried to yank the sword away to give it another go—maybe that first exchange had been a fluke. He refused to believe Aaron could actually be that overpowered. But no matter how he pulled—grabbing one sword with both hands like trying to drag a stubborn ox—it wouldn't budge. It was as though the sword had merged with Aaron's body, inseparable.

"One hand… pinned down both my blades! And the other hand…is still holding a chick!" Deadpool snarled in frustration. "Are you kidding me?! Is there no justice in this world? Are you the secret lovechild of God or something?!"

Wait a sec—he opened his eyes wide.

"Ohh, so you're that guy… The one who said, 'Even holding a girl in one arm, while carrying a bottomless abyss on my back, I—Aaron—remain invincible in this world!'"

Seeing that trying to wrest the swords away wouldn't work, Deadpool babbled lines like he was on stage, then decided to plant a foot on Aaron's rock-hard torso to gain leverage. That would let him jerk the blade free again.

Who gave you the nerve to step on me for leverage? Aaron thought. But it wasn't exactly stupidity—Deadpool simply had no fear. Aaron knew precisely how insane Deadpool's super-healing was, even overshadowing his own. Even if Deadpool were reduced to a single head or a lone hand, he'd still regrow. That borderline invincibility emboldened him, since nobody can truly kill him.

Deadpool knew such a move would provoke a fierce counterattack, but he still went for it. Just as his right foot came up, Aaron lashed out with a steel-strong right leg, smashing into Deadpool's shin. Bone connected with bone—Deadpool let out a genuine scream of pain as his lower leg snapped like a crispy wafer.

"Hey, buddy, all I wanted was a little push-off, and you snapped my leg!" Deadpool yelled, still refusing to let go of his swords.

Aaron gave a wry glance, then swept his other leg again—another crisp crack. Deadpool's left leg was broken too.

"Ah, s**t! This is so unfair! I only wanted your arm—why'd you have to break both my legs' bones?! No way, man! You owe me big! I want medical compensation! If you don't hand over a million bucks, I'm not moving from here!"

Deadpool, quite literally, put on a "professional extortion" performance. His legs weren't just faking it—they were genuinely broken!

"So you're ignoring your life just to keep your swords?" Aaron muttered. Even with both legs broken, Deadpool wouldn't let go, clutching the hilts like a lifeline, crawling across the ground like a caterpillar, howling.

"These swords are mine! I've already lost my poor legs; I won't lose my beloved blades too! A swordsman never abandons his blade—'if the blade breaks, the swordsman falls!'"

"Oh, come on, you think you're in some martial arts drama?" Aaron shook his head. He was well aware of Deadpool's shamelessness—enough to put "dirty" and "cheap" to shame—but meeting him in person confirmed it was even worse. When a man is that shameless, he's practically unstoppable. Congratulations, you're unbeatable!

Under normal circumstances, you'd be stuck figuring out how to handle him. But Aaron wasn't just "normal"—he was beyond unstoppable. Setting Felicia down, Aaron pinched the blades between four fingers, then spun in place.

"Alright, my turn. Watch my Spinning Top technique!"

"Waaaah! This is insane! Faster! Faster! Wait, no—I'm about to blow! Stop! You're too good—oooh, I can't take it…!" Deadpool shrieked.

"Gahhh—here it comes! So amazing!"

Aaron couldn't stand him. What a lunatic. Bolts of electricity crackled in his eyes; in a flash, 100,000 volts surged from the blade into Deadpool's body, roasting him until smoke rose, hair fried upright, face charred black. Yet he remained unbelievably sturdy.

Even that didn't make him let go. So Aaron slammed him around like Loki, grabbing the swords and thrashing him repeatedly to the ground—"left, right, left, right, smash, smash." Deadpool wasn't a frost giant or a god, so within a few impacts, his lower body was basically one big compound fracture, no good flesh left. But he remained lively—pain was everyday stuff for him.

"Hurts! Everything hurts—but my will is unbreakable!" Deadpool shouted, battered and bruised. Felicia, feeling queasy, turned away and covered her ears.

"No need to worry," Aaron assured her. "This shameless fool has a regenerative body. He may look pathetic, but it doesn't really matter to him. If anything, the more you beat him, the more he might get off on it!"

"Then come on—do your worst!" Deadpool cried heroically. "Devil, you can't twist my spirit!"

Aaron glared. "So you'd rather keep your swords than your life? Fine—I'll help you out!" He was annoyed. Deadpool's disgusting antics were testing his patience. You're forcing me to go full power… Fine, blame yourself then!

"Go on, grab the blade itself and rip it out!" Deadpool taunted, thinking that if Aaron tried to pull the blade from the cutting edge, the adamatium forging would slice Aaron open. He was sure that, while Aaron was strong, he still avoided direct contact with the blade's edge—implying he was cautious about it.

Aaron smiled cryptically. "Think I can't handle that? Watch carefully!"

"I'm telling you, I'm a cheat-level existence. Smelt!!!"

~~~

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