The Immortal in Marvel

Weasel looked at Derrick speechlessly, thinking that Derrick sitting in front of him was more thick-skinned than anyone else he had met his whole life.

"I've got what you want ready."

With that said, Weasel took out a folder and put it in front of Derrick, "This is your new identity. This contains all your fake identity information, including a driver's license, medical records, social security number, etc. As long as you don't go Provoking the IRS, under normal circumstances, there will be no problem." IRS, short for America Tax Service. It was known as one of the most feared government departments in America.

It is not wrong saying that in America, only death and taxes are inevitable.

Derrick couldn't help but feel a little worried. He shouldn't have to pay taxes on the things he robbed, right?

But having said that, Weasel's business connections were at a really good level.

A few days ago, he had collected enough money for another deposit and then asked Weasel to forge a fake identity.

It was all done quickly which relieved Derrick a lot. After all, he can't go anywhere without a legal identity. It will be convenient for him to move now.

Derrick put away the folder and suddenly asked, "How is Wade doing these days?"

"I don't know. The last I saw Wade was the day before yesterday, he was wearing blood-soaked clothes. He seemed to have found an underground force related to Francis and then... you know."

Weasel didn't go into too much detail. He shrugged and continued, "Anyways, he's been very busy these days. He has held back for such a long time so he should find something to vent."

Derrick understood what Weasel meant.

As Wade's bedmate, Derrick knew how much torture Wade suffered during his time in the lab. Whether it was mentally or physically, Wade was already covered in ugly scars. If it weren't for Wade's firm will, maybe he would've already gone insane.

Not to mention, even Derrick himself was a little different now. If it were him from before the torture, he would never have thought that he would take someone's life one day.

After going through the soul-crushing torture in the lab, Derrick's brain circuits changed completely. He wasn't a blood-lusted maniac but he was not scared from becoming one either. He anyways decided to never kill without reason.

However, Derrick also knew that he was right now weak and he cannot even take revenge on Francis.

The super high school stuntman title just gave him a Healing Factor but he didn't have any combat ability. If he was fighting an ordinary person, he could still use his self-healing ability to tire the opponent to death but facing a mutant like Francis right now, he would only be beaten up one-sidedly.

So, the best solution, for now, was to unlock the next title with the help of the achievement system.

"Let's not talk about that. Just recommend a few new commissions to me." Derrick said excitedly while clutching the black box. He was urgent to fight against the criminals.

However, Weasel's answer was unexpected for Derrick.

"There should be no commissions that can be completed with your abilities."

Derrick's expression froze instantly, "Are you joking?"

Weasel then said helplessly, "You should know that these commissions are all issued by employers not me. Unless there is a real grudge, no one will waste money on dealing with these gangsters."

Hearing what Weasel said, Derrick was immediately disappointed. Originally, he was thinking of choosing the commission with the lowest difficulty and completing the unlocking conditions of the title quickly but now it seems that things are not going so smoothly.

Now, Derrick was eight sinful villains' corpses far from completion.

Thinking of this, Derrick bewitched Weasel again, "Do you really don't want to try my villain training box? it's very fun."

"Yeah, no. I kindly reject it." The muscles around Weasel's eyes twitched a few times.

After listening to the conversation between the two mercenaries just now, he had already guessed what this villain's training box was used for.

"Okay, recommend me some commissions whose targets are gangsters." Derrick sighed and gave up the tempting idea.

Weasel quickly spread out several black cards, Derrick picked them up one by one to have a look at them and suddenly found a commission he was interested in.

"That's it." Derrick pulled out the black card and said, "I'll take this entrustment."

"Are you sure? Don't blame me for not informing you, this is pretty difficult."

"It's alright. I never fight a battle I know I will lose. Ah, By the way, I want to buy something from you."

"What?"

"Hmm, a bunch of C4 plastic explosives?"

…

The fog filled the night. On the streets of Brooklyn, a heavy truck was parked silently by the side of an empty road.

Under the dim street lights, several burly men came out of the truck. They opened the rear compartment and each took out an automatic rifle from inside. They didn't care about accidentally attracting the attention of others and put one person guard there.

The others just swaggered into the dark alley.

The soles of the boots stepped heavily on the puddles on the road, mud and sewage splashed everywhere, dirtying their pants and streets even more.

A strong man with an inferior quality cigar in his mouth flicked his trousers, cursed a few times in a low voice with a hard Russian accent, wiped off the water stains on the box in his hand and then led the others to stop at an iron gate.

From the looks of it, they should be in front of a frozen Warehouse.

The brawny man spat out the cigar from his mouth, reached out and knocked loudly on the iron door.

After a while, a dull voice came from inside.

"Who?"

"Vladimir sent us to take delivery."

"Hold on."

Accompanied by the heart-piercing sound of metal rubbing, the somewhat rusty iron door was slowly opened from the inside.

A group of Russian men walked in with guns in hand.

The interior space of the Warehouse was not large. Pieces of frozen pork were hanging in the air.

There were already several people sitting around the metal table in the middle, playing poker with bored and grumpy faces.

Seeing the arrival of the Russian men, they put down the cards in their hands.

One of them stood up consciously and walked towards the frozen pork, took out a dagger from his waist, plunged into a piece of frozen pork and cut it open.

Through the incision, one can clearly see a pack of stuffed transparent crystals, all of which were sewn into the frozen pork.

"The goods are all here."

"Hmm."

The leader looked through the Warehouse. There were about a dozen pieces of frozen pork. He then nodded in satisfaction.

Immediately afterwards, he opened the box in his hand and there were stacks of banknotes inside.

"Here it is. Twenty million."

Appearing to be the leader of the people in the Warehouse, a man stepped forward to confirm the amount of the note.

After confirming that it was all correct, he nodded, "Pleasant doing business with you."

The Russian man grinned his mouth wide and then waved his hand to signal his subordinates to take down all the frozen pork off the hooks.

KNOCK~~!

There was a sudden knock on the large iron door from outside.