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In Deadpool With a System [8]
🕑 Added 2025-03-10 09:18:28 +0000 UTCAn unbearable stench hit him like a sledgehammer. His steps faltered, and his expression twisted in disgust. “What the…? What the hell is that smell?” He gagged, instinctively pulling his shirt over his nose. “Did a toilet explode in here?”
The team came to an abrupt halt. Even from twenty meters away, the rancid odor reached them, forcing several of the men to cover their faces. Near the door of Walter’s lab, the two unconscious guards lay sprawled on the floor, their bodies still twitching slightly as if they had suffered through some kind of chemical attack.
More disturbingly, a faint, sickly yellow mist was seeping out from the partially open door.
The warden’s most trusted officer narrowed his eyes. “The only open room is Dr. Walter’s lab. The gas must be coming from there.”
The warden’s expression darkened. “That crazy old bastard… he didn’t whip up some new toxin just to torture another test subject, did he?”
His officer frowned and shook his head. “Unlikely. If it were one of his poisons, it would have been in a syringe, not something filling the entire room like this. Besides, the guards outside have already collapsed. Walter wouldn’t have attacked his own men.”
The warden hesitated for a brief moment before nodding. “Fine. Let’s check it out.”
Gun in one hand, he used the other to cover his nose as he led the team forward. But they had barely taken three steps before several guards behind him erupted into violent coughing fits.
Two more steps, and one of them dropped to his knees, retching onto the floor.
Five steps later, silence fell behind him.
The warden frowned and turned his head, only to find himself alone. His entire squad had already fled the scene, abandoning him without so much as a warning. His expression contorted in rage. “Those goddamn cowards ran without me?!” He clenched his jaw, fighting against the wave of nausea creeping up his throat, then decided it wasn’t worth it. “Screw this. I’m calling Ajax.”
Grumbling under his breath, he turned and sprinted away, leaving the wretched room far behind him.
For those who had the ability to run, they were the lucky ones.
The true victims were the test subjects trapped inside their rooms, their bodies restrained on cold metal slabs, unable to move even an inch. Their only defense was to hold their breath, but even that could only last for a minute or two at best. Eventually, their lungs would burn, and they would be forced to inhale the tainted air. And when they did, they would understand the true meaning of suffering.
For those with weak breath control, the torture had already begun. They hadn’t even undergone the intended experiments yet, but they were already experiencing something worse than death—locked in place, forced to endure a gas so foul and potent that it invaded their bodies like a living plague. This was no longer a laboratory. It was the world’s cruelest execution chamber.
And out of everyone, the most unfortunate one was Wade. His room was right next to Dane’s.
Wade, lying in the room closest to Dane, was the first to suffer the full force of the toxic gas. The moment he regained consciousness, his entire body convulsed, and within seconds, thick foam frothed from his mouth. His eyes rolled back, and he passed out again, his body twitching as if he had been struck by some invisible force.
The stench only grew stronger, spreading like an unstoppable plague. Soon, the entirety of B-Zone was engulfed in a thin, yellowish mist. The facility’s air vents and corridors became conduits for the noxious fumes, turning the once-sterile environment into a gas chamber of pure suffering.
Far outside the danger zone—nearly a hundred meters away—the bald warden, still recovering from his own exposure, hurriedly dialed a secure line. His hands were slightly unsteady as he brought the device to his ear. “Ajax,” he said, voice tense, “we’ve got a situation in B-Zone. You need to get down here.”
A brief pause, then a low, authoritative voice responded. “What happened?”
The warden glanced toward the mist-filled corridor, shaking his head. “I don’t know all the details, but I’m sure it’s connected to those two test subjects you sent in earlier.” His voice dropped lower. “They’ve barely been here for an hour, and now the entire sector is covered in this god-awful gas. We’ve got people—both staff and test subjects—dropping left and right. I have no idea how many are still alive.”
There was silence on the other end. Then Ajax’s voice came through, sharp and decisive. “I’m on my way.”
The call ended abruptly. Ajax lowered his hand and turned to the man standing beside him. The middle-aged figure had a strong build and sharp features, his presence exuding quiet authority. Before either of them, strapped to an operating table, lay a young man with wings sprouting from his back—Subject 35. His breathing was shallow but steady, his body motionless as he remained sedated.
“What’s going on?” the man asked.
Ajax’s expression remained unreadable as he issued his orders. “Stay here and keep an eye on Subject 35. He’s too valuable to lose. I’ll take Angel and check out B-Zone.”
Hearing this, the man referred to as Angel blinked in surprise. “Already? It’s barely been an hour since we sent Dane in.” His gaze darkened slightly. “If something’s gone wrong so quickly, he’s probably involved.”
Ajax gave him a brief look, then nudged his shoulder. “Angel,” he said flatly.
Angel snapped out of his thoughts and nodded. “Right. Let’s move.”
The two of them moved swiftly toward B-Zone. However, before they even reached the entrance, a wave of putrid air assaulted them.
Angel’s entire body tensed as he instinctively covered his nose. “What the hell is that smell?!” His voice was slightly muffled by his sleeve as he recoiled, his steps slowing.
Ajax, however, remained unfazed. He barely even reacted. “It’s strong?” he asked casually.
Angel gave him a sharp look. “You can’t smell this?”
