The U.S.-Mexico border, port of entry and exit. An RV is parked next to a customs checkpoint.

“March in

Take command

Line up

Take a stand

Make this war to art”

The deafening industrial heavy metal rock 'n' roll was playing inside the car, and two white men in beach shirts and beach pants swayed to the music.

"Passport?" The customs officer at the checkpoint said, "Are you all Americans?" ”

"That's right, it's the Americans."

The driver of the car took out two passports and handed them to the staff.

The staff took the passport, just a rough pair. Entering Mexico from the United States is much easier than entering the United States from Mexico.

"Well, are you going to the port of Ensenada, Mexico?"

He asked the two people in the car.

"yes, let's see if we can catch a tuna."

The staff returned the passport to the driver.

"It's the tuna season lately, and many people are going to enter Mexico these days, so I wish you all a smooth journey."

The driver started the RV and sped down the highway in Mexico.

"Majak Fack, it seems that there are a lot of competitors in this job."

The caravan pulled off the highway at a fork in the road, drove down a crumbling country road, and finally drove into a village. There were already three people in the village squatting on the side of the road, smoking cigarettes and waiting.

"You're late, Wade."

The three of them stood up, all of them tall with thick calluses on their fingers and palms.

"No way, the traffic after coming out of Pendleton is jammed like my intestines."

Wade. Wilson said as he climbed into the caravan compartment and removed the mattress to reveal the neatly arranged guns and ammunition inside. There were even two packs of C4 explosives and more than two dozen offensive grenades.

(Wade. Wilson is Deadpool's real name, and at this time he did not yet possess superpowers. ）

The five of them skillfully distributed all kinds of guns and ammunition and checked the condition of the guns.

"As you all know, the enemy this time is the Reyes group, and if it were usual, we wouldn't have taken on such a job. But I heard that the Mata Group has recently found a very powerful mutant, and the Reyes Group is difficult to parry. ”

Organizer of the Five, Jack. Hammer said.

"We're here for a day, and then we're going to Mexico City."

Most of the five are former members of the Special Forces, and even if they are not, they are retired Marines who have already experienced a hundred battles. Some people lie directly in the shade of a tree to rest and regain their energy; Others carried rifle target paper and went to the wasteland outside the village to calibrate their guns.

Nicknamed Jack the Weasel. Hammer opened a cold bottle of beer and took a sip.

"We're going to make a fortune this time, Wade, and there's no one in all of Mexico who is richer than Filippoto and Barlow."

He has a very large network of mercenaries and is often able to organize people to take on tasks with high commissions. Although they don't participate in battles, they always get a good cut of them.

The phone in his pocket rang suddenly, and Jack. Hammer glanced at the caller number, and his expression became serious. He pointed to his phone and said to Wade.

"It's a ruthless character, nicknamed the Frontier Killer."

After he finished speaking, he picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

A somewhat tired voice came from the other end of the line.

"You're in Mexico right now."

Jack immediately denied it.

"How is it possible, I'm in New York, taking a big job."

A sneer came from the other end of the phone.

"Well, if I bump into you, I won't keep my hand."

Jack Seconds:

"Well, I'm in Mexico, what's the matter?"

The other end of the phone said:

"Let me join your team and take over the task of the Mata Group, and I will give you an address to meet in two days."

......

......

An ordinary roadside stall that sells mainly fried pork rinds, Gorditas and Churros. The large pieces of pork rind are fried like corn tortillas, very greasy, and paired with sour pickled cucumbers, the flavor is excellent. Gorditas, on the other hand, are very similar to the meat buns, which are filled with diced pork rinds, grilled meats and cheeses, slathered in salsa, and one can be half full.

Churros, on the other hand, is a Spanish snack that, like fritters, is a deep-fried sweet dough sprinkled with icing.

The stall owner is a middle-aged Mexican with a beer belly, and at his peak, he can make more than 5,000 Gorditas a day, but at this time he is busy sweating profusely and burning.

A tall, muscular Asian sat down in front of the stall owner, shoving his prepared food into his mouth almost at a rate of bite.

Alejandro helplessly crossed his legs and sat on a plastic chair reading the novel. He in a suit and leather shoes appeared in a picture with a dirty stall, which was very inconsistent.

He had grown accustomed to Broly's astonishing appetite.

A dilapidated RV pulled up from the corner and came to a halt in front of the stall, the window rolled down, revealing Jack's face.

"Hey, Ali, long time no see."

Wade, who was sitting in the passenger seat, opened the car door, walked to the stall, pulled over a plastic chair, and sat next to Broly. He said to his boss.

"Bring me one of these pies."

"I'm sorry, sir, but the materials are gone."

The stall owner actually felt a sense of relief when he said this.

Wade shrugged helplessly, and he reached out and touched Broly's tail around his waist.

"Friend, where did you buy this furry belt, it's very fashionable."

Broly, who had already exercised his tail as no longer a weakness, swung his tail and shook off Wade's hand.

"It's not a belt, it's my tail."

Wade immediately pulled out a tissue and wiped his hands.

"Sorry, uh, is your tail like a Na'vi braid, uh, organ?"

Broly is a little strange:

"Na'vi?"

Alejandro coughed and said:

"The Na'vi are a creature in the movie Avatar, and braids, cough, are their X organs."

Broly silently pulled out a tissue, wiped his greasy hands, and then picked up Wade like a chicken and planted it upside down in the trash can on the side of the road.

"Is that how you want to die, my friend?"

As he spoke, he lifted the heavy metal trash can and clamped it between his arms, and the thick trash can suddenly deformed like soft mud, clamping Wade tightly.

Wade struggled violently, his exposed legs swaying.

"Don't, man, I'm just kidding, don't do this, let me out, I apologize to you!"

Broly puts the trash can back in its place.

"If an apology helps, then what do you need the police to do."

By now, Wade was finally a little panicked.

"Poof!"

A laugh.

"Jack! Damn Farke! I hear you laugh! ”

Wade fluttered angrily.

"Poof, Wade, you know, I'm trained to not laugh unless I can't help it, poof!"