[AUTHOR NOTE: Thanks to Jandro123 for giving me tip on Gumroad.]
Night enveloped New York, transforming the city into a playground for sinners.
Inside Sister Margaret's Bar—a dive so deep it was practically in the Earth's crust—John Constantine nursed a glass of cheap whiskey.
Sitting next to him was a man who seemed to have mistaken the bar for a comic con. He wore a skin-tight red and black bodysuit, even while drinking a Appletini through a crazy straw jammed into his mask.
"Wade," John sighed, slapping a gloved hand away from his pocket. "You seem to have too much free time."
"Mmmph!" Wade Wilson yelped as John twisted his wrist. "Ow! Ow! Mercy! I was just checking for loose change!"
John released him, shaking his head. "You're a legendary mercenary, Wade. Why are you harassing me instead of working?"
"Hey!" Wade bounced up on his stool, thrusting his masked face into John's personal space. "That is character assassination! I work plenty!"
"The day before yesterday, I helped Grandma Lisa find her lost bra! It was a support mission! Very tactical!"
"Yesterday, I saved a cat from a tree! The cat was an idiot, by the way. Scratched my suit."
John pushed his drink away, rubbing his temples. "Stop. Please."
Just then, the heavy iron door of the bar creaked open.
The chatter in the room died instantly. The patrons—a collection of hitmen, arms dealers, and degenerates—turned to stare.
Two figures stood in the doorway, looking painfully out of place.
Pepper Potts wore a tailored business suit that cost more than the building. Beside her, Happy Hogan stood guard, looking uncomfortable in his tie.
They scanned the room, their eyes locking onto John in seconds.
The other patrons quickly turned back to their drinks. You didn't mess with people who wore suits like that. And you definitely didn't mess with whoever was visiting Constantine.
Everyone knew the rumors: Constantine would sell your soul for a pack of cigarettes.
Wade, however, had no such survival instincts.
"John Constantine?" Happy asked, approaching the table. "Ms. Potts has a commission for you."
"Commission?!"
Before John could answer, Wade lunged. He inserted himself between John and Pepper, wiggling his hips provocatively.
"Hey, lady!" Wade chirped, striking a pose. "Ignore the Brit! He smells like sulfur and regret!"
"Ask around! I'm the most famous mercenary in the Kitchen! Wade Wilson! The Merc with a Mouth! I never fail!"
Wade made a series of obscure hand gestures that might have been gang signs or interpretive dance. He winked at Pepper through his mask.
"Whatever you need... I can handle it. Wink."
Pepper stared at him, her face blank with confusion and mild horror. She glanced at Happy.
Without a word, Happy grabbed Wade by the back of his tactical harness and hauled him away.
"Hey! Unhand me, you beautiful round man!" Wade shouted as he was dragged across the floor. "Lady! Trust me! I have references! Captain America thinks I'm charming!"
Pepper took a deep breath, turning back to John.
"Tony has been kidnapped."
John's expression shifted instantly. The boredom vanished, replaced by a shark-like focus.
"Happy said... you might have a way."
John downed the rest of his whiskey. Tony Stark was his biggest client. Losing him was bad for business.
"Tell me everything," John said.
Pepper quickly relayed the details—the ambush in Afghanistan, the blood, the missing body.
"I understand," John stood up, adjusting his coat. "As long as he's still alive... I can bring him back."
He paused, glancing at the mercenary currently trying to braid Happy's tie.
"And bring the idiot."
Pepper blinked. "Him?"
"That guy has a healing factor that defies biology," John explained. "He's basically immortal. If things get hairy, we use him as a meat shield."
"I HEARD THAT!" Wade screamed from the floor. "AND I ACCEPT THE TERMS!"
Pepper didn't hesitate. "Done."
[The Afghan Desert - Kunar Province]
Twenty-four hours later, the scenery had changed from a dark bar to blinding white sand.
John and Wade sat in a customized "Fun-Vee" Humvee, bumping along a dirt track in the middle of nowhere.
Pepper Potts didn't do things by halves. A private jet had dropped them in-country, and a Stark Industries contact had provided the vehicle.
John lay in the back seat, trying to nap. Wade was driving, singing along to a Gwen Stefani track that only he could hear.
"Finding a man in this desert is impossible," John muttered, pulling up his System interface.
He scrolled through the shop until he found something cheap but effective.
[Item: Compass of Desire]
Description: Points to the thing the holder wants most. (Note: Cannot locate the stairway to Heaven).
Cost: 500 Emotion Points.
John purchased it. A battered, brass compass materialized in his hand.
"Catch," John said, tossing it to the front seat.
Wade fumbled the catch, nearly driving off the road, but managed to grab it.
"Ooh, shiny! Is this pirate treasure?"
"It's a compass," John yawned, pulling his coat over his eyes. "It points to what you want most."
"If you want to get paid, just focus on Tony Stark."
"Keep chanting his name in your head. And wake me up when we get there."
Wade looked at the compass. The needle spun wildly for a second—briefly pointing toward a chimichanga stand back in Kabul—before snapping to a fixed direction: North-East.
"Aye aye, Captain!" Wade saluted. "Operation: Save the Sugar Daddy is a go!"
....
.....
.....
Support my patreon and get early access to chapters
patreon.com/ImmortalDaoWriter
Don't forgot to give me powerstones.