"PFFT—!"
Deadpool didn't even manage to chew before he violently sprayed the fruit across the floor like a malfunctioning lawn sprinkler.
"You have got to be kidding me!" Wade bellowed, pointing a wildly trembling, accusatory finger at Rosh as if the shopkeeper had just personally insulted his entire lineage. "What is wrong with you?! That literally tastes like a dumpster fire had a toxic baby with expired nuclear sewage!"
He gagged dramatically, clutching his throat like a Victorian opera singer dying of tragedy.
"I've made a lot of questionable choices in my life, and trust me, the list is long, but this? This is actively competing for the number one spot of absolute worst life decisions."
Wade looked genuinely, profoundly traumatized. In all his years of black-market experiments, sketchy street food, and things that definitely violated the Geneva Conventions, he had never tasted anything remotely this foul.
But then, a weird shift happened in his eyes.
Strangely enough... the horrific taste actually made him trust Rosh more. If this whole setup were just a cheap street scam, why on earth would anyone make the product taste like a biological weapon? A scammer would give you a sweet strawberry and take your wallet. This? This tasted like real, dangerous cosmic magic.
"Sir," Rosh said, completely unfazed as he maintained his most professional, stone-faced expression. "There's an ancient saying from my homeland: Good advice is often unpleasant to the ear, and truly effective medicine is always bitter to the tongue."
Wade blinked, tapping the side of his skull. "Huh? I'm sorry, could you repeat that? The sheer, unadulterated trauma of that flavor profile just assaulted my soul so hard that several of my remaining brain cells just handed in their two-week notices."
Rosh opened his mouth, then sighed. "...Never mind."
"Eh, don't worry about it. I'll just re-read the chapter back later," Wade muttered.
Then, proving once and for all that his survival instincts were profoundly broken, Wade pinched his nose shut, squeezed his eyes tight, and grabbed the rest of the sample off the counter.
"Alright, screw it. Yolo!"
He stuffed the entire thing into his mouth. He chewed. He winced. He chewed harder, his face contorting into shapes that shouldn't be humanly possible, and finally, with a massive gulp, he forced it down his throat.
"I must be completely, fundamentally insane for believing this magical fruit nonse—"
Wade suddenly went dead silent. He froze mid-sentence. His eyes went wide.
"Wait," he whispered. "Hold on a second."
A strange, alien sensation began to bloom deep inside his chest. It was warm and light, almost electric. It felt like a wave of pure energy washing through his veins, tingling right under his skin.
For a second, panic flared up. Wade mentally cursed himself. 'There's no way a piece of fruit gives you magical powers, Wilson. That's comic book logic. Even for your life, reality has its limits. Right?'
But before he could convince himself he was just having a stroke, the sensation intensified tenfold. Something massive was happening to his body.
Instinctively, Wade raised a gloved hand and pressed his fingers against his cheek. Then, he completely stopped breathing. The rough, uneven, sandpaper texture he had lived with for years was changing. Right beneath his fingertips.
The deep, painful scars were fading. The pitted, cratered flesh was smoothing out. The twisted, ruined skin was restoring itself at a speed that was clearly visible to the naked eye.
Within seconds, his skin became flawlessly, impossibly smooth. It looked and felt like beautifully polished, high-end white marble.
"...Holy shit," Wade breathed, his eyes nearly popping straight out of his skull. "No way. No freaking way."
In one frantic motion, he whipped out his phone, scrambled to open the front-facing camera, and stared directly into the screen.
"HOLY FUCK!!!"
The absolute wall-shattering scream nearly blew the windows right out of the storefront. Wade literally dropped his phone onto the counter, his entire body trembling as if he'd just been hit by lightning.
The hideous, scarred face that had haunted his reflection for years, the face that made him hide beneath a red mask, wasn't just slightly improved. It wasn't covered up by a cheap illusion.
It was gone.
Completely, entirely gone.
"Are you kidding me...?" Wade's voice dropped to a fragile, shaky whisper. He was terrified to even believe it.
Slowly, gently, he reached up and touched his jawline. Then his cheek. Then his forehead.
"My face..." Wade's throat tightened, a rare wave of raw, genuine emotion cracking through his usual sarcastic armor. "It's actually... fixed?"
"As you can see for yourself," Rosh said, folding his arms over his chest with a knowing smile. "Your skin is now extraordinarily smooth. So, no, sir. I wasn't lying to you."
Inside, Rosh was celebrating. He knew the hardest part of the job was officially over. Once a customer personally experienced the reality-bending power of a Devil Fruit, you didn't need to pitch them anymore. The product pitched itself. And in Deadpool's case? The fruit had targeted the single greatest, deepest insecurity of his entire life.
The chances of closing this sale had just gone from zero to a hundred real quick.
"This isn't just smooth!" Wade practically vibrated with pure, manic excitement, his hands flying all over his new, flawless face. "Even the imaginary supermodels I dream about don't have skin this ridiculously good! Seriously, the entire population of New York should be at an illegal level of jealousy right now."
"Sir," Rosh smoothly seized the golden opening, leaning over the counter. "I take it you are entirely satisfied with our product?"
"Satisfied?!" Wade barked out a hysterical laugh. "Oh, buddy, that word doesn't even make it onto the charts. I don't even know what emotion I'm feeling right now! I'm excited. I'm overjoyed. I am emotionally compromised. I think I might be legally in love with you."
The intense, wide-eyed look in Wade's eyes said it all. For the first time in his life, he wasn't exaggerating.
"I'm incredibly honored to hear that," Rosh nodded politely, dropping his tone into a professional, casual rhythm. "However, as your trusted shopkeeper, there is one highly important detail I need to mention."
Wade's eyes narrowed instantly, his mercenary paranoia flaring up. "What? What's the catch?"
"What you just consumed was merely a free sample," Rosh explained, his smile remaining perfectly poised. "The effects are temporary. They will completely expire in exactly five minutes."
Wade's entire body went rigid. "...What did you just say?"
"But don't panic," Rosh continued seamlessly, not letting the tension break. "Once you purchase the complete, whole version of the Smooth-Smooth Fruit, the transformation becomes permanent. Forever."
The pieces of the puzzle instantly clicked in Wade's brain. He stared at Rosh. Then he pointed a finger. Then he glared.
"You sneaky, brilliant, beautiful bastard."
Rosh smiled politely. "Customer satisfaction is my utmost priority."
"Customer addiction is what you mean!" Wade groaned, throwing his hands up in total surrender. "Fine! I admit it! You got me, you absolute maestro of capitalism! You win! I'll buy the stupid magical superpower fruit!"
"An excellent choice, sir." Rosh's smile grew noticeably brighter. "And you're in luck. As part of our grand opening promotion, all Devil Fruits in the shop are currently thirty percent off."
Wade nodded quickly. "Great, love a bargain. Hit me."
"The original retail price of the Smooth-Smooth Fruit is one million dollars."
Wade kept nodding. "Cool, cool."
"So, with the thirty percent discount, your total today comes out to just seven hundred thousand dollars."
Wade stopped nodding.
A heavy, dead silence descended upon the room. A few agonizing seconds ticked by.
Then…
"...Run that by me one more time?"
"The discounted price is seven hundred thousand dollars," Rosh repeated calmly, his tone as casual as if he were selling a latte.
The gorgeous, flawless grin slowly vanished from Wade's face. "Seven hundred grand? For a piece of produce? Does it come with a golden yacht?!"
"Seven hundred thousand," Rosh corrected politely. Then, he leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto Wade's with a piercing, grounding intensity. "But let's be entirely realistic here, sir. If someone had approached you yesterday and offered to completely restore your face for seven million dollars... would any doctor on Earth have been able to actually do it?"
Wade opened his mouth to fire back a sarcastic retort, but nothing came out. He snapped his jaw shut.
The silence returned, but this time, it was heavy with truth. Rosh was right. No amount of money, no advanced science, and no mutant healing factor had ever been able to fix what happened to him.
"And honestly, that's not even the fruit's true value," Rosh casually dropped another massive bombshell into the conversation. "In the very near future, this store will stop accepting paper currency altogether."
Wade frowned. "What? Why?"
"All future transactions will be conducted exclusively in physical gold," Rosh smiled elegantly. "And when that transition happens, the prices are going to skyrocket significantly. You're actually getting a historic steal today."
Wade stared at him, genuinely awestruck. "Wow! You run a grocery store like an absolute supervillain. Respect."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I'm choosing to take it as one anyway," Rosh replied smoothly.
Wade let out a massive sigh, but before he could complain about his bank account, a sudden thought struck him. He pointed at the pale, wavy fruit on the shelf. "Wait a minute. You keep talking about 'smoothness' like it's some kind of big deal. Is it just a really high-end skincare routine or what?"
"Because it is a big deal," Rosh explained, nodding. "The flawless beauty enhancement? That is merely a pleasant side effect."
Wade blinked. "A side effect? You mean there's more?"
"The Smooth-Smooth Fruit's true, core power is far more impressive," Rosh said, successfully capturing Deadpool's absolute, undivided attention.
"Alright, stop teasing me like a cheap burlesque show. What do you mean?"
"It makes your entire body completely, mathematically frictionless."
Wade just stared. "...What?"
"Frictionless," Rosh repeated, his voice smooth and steady. "Zero friction. Nothing can grip you. Nothing can impact you properly."
Wade immediately let out a loud laugh. "Okay, see, now we're back to the crazy sci-fi nonsense."
And then, without a single shred of warning—
*SLAP!*
Wade wound up and smacked himself across the face with full mercenary force.
Rosh didn't even flinch; he just watched calmly. 'Yep. Classic Deadpool.'
A second later, Wade completely froze.
"...Whoa."
He slowly lowered his hand, staring at his palm in absolute disbelief. Then he touched his cheek. Then he looked back at his hand.
"It didn't hit," Wade whispered, his eyes widening to impossible circles. "It didn't connect. It just... slid right off."
The heavy, painful slap had literally skated across his skin like a hockey puck on fresh ice. Even with his insane mutant healing factor, Wade still felt pain like anyone else. But that massive self-inflicted blow? It hadn't hurt at all. The force had simply slipped away into nothingness.
"Oh, you can push it much further than that," Rosh teased, leaning back and enjoying the show.
Wade snapped his head toward him. "How? Tell me!"
"Take off your shoes."
"Why?"
"Because as long as the floor beneath you isn't a perfectly microscopic level surface... you're going to start moving."
Wade didn't even wait for Rosh to finish the sentence. He kicked his tactical boots off in a split second. The moment his bare feet made contact with the hardwood floor…
*Whoosh!*
Wade's body instantly drifted sideways. Then faster. Then backwards.
With zero friction holding him down, the natural, imperceptible slant of the floorboards turned him into a high-speed projectile. Wade shot across the shop like a human hockey puck on a hyperdrive.
"THIS IS THE GREATEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME!!!"
Wade's manic, echoing laughter filled every square inch of the building. He glided effortlessly between the display shelves, bounced cleanly off a side wall, spun in a perfect, frictionless circle, and kept right on sliding without losing a single ounce of momentum.
"I'm literally a living, breathing, incredibly handsome human slip-and-slide!" he screamed, bursting into another fit of ecstatic laughter as he zoomed past the counter. "This is way too cool! Take my money! Take all of it!"
Rosh calmly stood behind the counter, leaning his chin on his hand as he watched the crimson-suited mercenary slide around his shop like a toddler in a bouncy castle. A satisfied, quiet smile spread across Rosh's face.
He didn't even need to check his system interface. At this point... the first sale of the Devil Fruit Supplier System was absolute, 100% guaranteed.