American comic: From Beijing with Love, starting with a mutant.

Professor X, leaning on his cane, twitched his eyelids: "I appreciate your kindness. But I'm just an ordinary disabled old man now."

His face was wrinkled and he looked exhausted. "Going to your country would just be a waste of food and a nuisance."

Zhou Xingxing was somewhat disappointed, but still nodded: "Forced relationships don't work. If you miss this opportunity, you'll have to go through the regular recruitment process if you want to get into our 749 Bureau! The written test, interview, physical exam, and the essay and aptitude tests will skin you alive! Don't blame me for not warning you beforehand; if you try to get me to pull strings later, I'll charge you market price!"

Deadpool, fidgeting anxiously beside him, exclaimed, "Exactly! Do you want this incredible fortune? If not, give it to me! See if I can take their place? I'm easy to feed, I'm not picky!"

"Just give me a security captain, and I guarantee I can train all the stray dogs at the entrance of your neighborhood to march in step!"

Charles ignored Deadpool's ramblings: "Since you're here... go sit downstairs. My legs really can't take it anymore."

"You should have said so earlier." Zhou Xingxing stepped forward and took the old man's arm.

Wild beasts led the way.

At the end of the corridor, the beast pushed aside the bookshelf, revealing a dark, gloomy underground staircase behind the wall.

Deadpool muttered to himself, "How come the X-Men base can't even afford a voice-activated light now? Did they spend all their budget on entertaining people?"

The four people walked down the steps.

Once we got to the basement, the space was quite large, but the environment wasn't great.

Several sofas had holes in them, and the coffee table was missing a corner.

Charles walked to the sofa and sat down with difficulty, leaning his cane against the side and rubbing his knees.

A wild beast stood behind him.

Deadpool, without any hesitation, sat on the sofa, pulled an energy bar from his crotch, lifted half of his mask, and started munching on it.

Stephen Chow blew the dust off the sofa before sitting down, took out a cigarette, knocked it out, and put it in his mouth.

Charles stared at him; even without his mind-reading ability, his gaze remained.

"Stephen Chow".

Stephen Chow exhaled a thick white smoke ring and looked through the smoke.

"Regret it? The registration fee is now fifty dollars."

He made something up on the spot, and at the same time noticed Deadpool staring at his lighter, so he quickly put the lighter back in his pocket.

"You crossed the ocean to come here, going to great lengths to find mutants..."

The professor stared at Zhou Xingxing, his voice accusatory: "What exactly are you trying to do? Are you building an army to fight the war? Or... do you have a more terrifying scheme?"

Deadpool looks left at Professor X and right at Stephen Chow.

He looked like he was seriously considering who he should help if a fight broke out so he could get a hot meal.

The beast tensed its muscles.

If the man in front of him says the wrong thing, he will pounce on him and bite his neck off.

Stephen Chow, with a cigarette between his fingers, suppressed his smugness, stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray, and sat up straight.

Professor X watched his every move.

Those people talk about peaceful coexistence, but in private they all treat mutants as weapons and experimental subjects.

The man in front of me, Stephen Chow, started talking nonsense the moment he walked in, like a comical salesman.

He even regretted asking that question.

If the answer really is war, will his old bones still have the strength to stand in front of those children?

He stared at Zhou Xingxing's hand as he stubbed out his cigarette; there were two very faint scars on the back of his hand—knife wounds.

This man has killed people, and he has killed many people.

"Professor," Zhou Xingxing said earnestly.

"Do you know why there's constant fighting and killing here, and why you keep creating these mutant crises? It's because your politicians treat people like monsters, and you like unstable bombs."

"Monsters, well, they're either kept in cages as research material or dragged out to bite people. The logic is so simple."

"But where we're from, as long as you can work and are willing to follow the rules and not cause trouble, you are a glorious worker."

"Workers create value, the state pays them a monthly salary, they get medical insurance reimbursement when they are sick, and they receive a pension when they are old. It's that simple."

Charles was somewhat surprised.

He had imagined many conspiracy theories, but he never expected to hear such a declaration from the working class.

Stephen Chow pointed his thumb back at his nose: "I'm hiring only because our country truly lacks top-tier talent!"

"Do you know Polaris? How many times did she speed up the rocket docking process at our space city? Those old experts practically worship her like a deity, burning incense for her morning and night!"

"And then there's Jiliu. He's now the deputy captain of the fire department. A while ago, there was a huge chemical plant fire; he single-handedly rushed into the toxic smoke to ventilate, saving most of the factory!"

"Don't try to understand our commitment to serving the people with your sordid notions of an arms race!"

"Construction? Nothing more?" Charles retorted.

"Of course it's for construction! Otherwise, why would I be here chatting with you guys?"

"Are mutants superweapons? Easily capable of destroying the world?"

He sneered, his tone full of disdain: "What good would destroying the world do us? If the world is destroyed, who will buy our Yiwu small commodities?"

"Who's going to use our Pinduoduo platform to cut prices? Who's going to buy our Lao Gan Ma chili sauce and spicy strips?"

He pointed to the ceiling above his head.

"Are we all just going to starve?"

Deadpool, listening nearby, nodded repeatedly, then threw down the energy bar packaging and clapped wildly: "Well said! Absolutely right! It's like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel!"

He was so excited that he jumped up and down on the sofa, pointing at the professor and shouting.

"If the world ends, where will I buy a two-dollar burrito? Who'll make me a cheese-filled pizza?!"

Stephen Chow pointed at Deadpool and nodded in satisfaction.

"See, even this red-skinned lunatic who talks nonsense understands this principle, yet you two highly intelligent people can't figure it out?"

His tone softened a bit: "To be frank, you mutants are doing terribly in America because you're not smart enough."

"Why do you insist on going head-to-head with the government, and insist on creating superheroes and supervillains? Why don't you get a special equipment operator's license, work on a construction site, and earn a high salary? Wouldn't that be better?"

Deadpool, standing nearby, chimed in louder than anyone else: "Exactly! They just don't get it!"

He sidled up to Stephen Chow and poured out his grievances.

"Last time, an older woman fell at my feet and insisted that I had bumped into her. She grabbed my leg and wouldn't let go, and in the end, she managed to extort two pizza coupons from me!"

Deadpool was so aggrieved he was about to cry: "I stay up all night every day taking on bounties and doing missions, but I can't compete with those old ladies at all. My life is more miserable than a rat in the sewers!"

"Look at this! A bloody lesson!"

Stephen Chow straightened his suit and said with immense pride, "Everything there is strictly regulated. We have surveillance cameras for staged accidents, and medical insurance for those seeking treatment."

He took the contract out again and placed it on the coffee table.

"Professor, are you planning to continue hiding in the ruins with these children, or come with me and live a normal life for a few days?"