Selling Devil Fruits in the Marvel Universe

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Inside the Home of the Devil Fruits

"Boss! I've got some good news for you!"

Rosh stared at the message from Deadpool, his eyebrow instinctively arching in skepticism.

'Good news?' The phrase didn't exactly inspire confidence when it came from Deadpool. Rosh couldn't help but think, 'What could Wade possibly consider 'good news' this time?'

'Could it be…?'

Lately, Deadpool's life has taken a bizarre turn that no one could have predicted. Ever since he'd entered the face mask business, his flawless, regenerated skin had become an overnight sensation in the beauty world. No longer was he the scarred, wisecracking mercenary feared by villains and heroes alike. Now, he was a bonafide celebrity.

Deadpool's social media accounts were practically a scrapbook of his new life. Lavish events, luxury vacations with Vanessa, photo ops at five-star hotels—it was a far cry from his days of chaos and carnage. Somehow, the man who once blew up entire buildings without a second thought was now the face of high-end skincare.

Over the past six months, Rosh had noticed a significant shift in Deadpool's focus. Their conversations, which used to revolve around mercenary contracts and inappropriate jokes, now centered on his growing mask empire. Just a few days ago, Deadpool had even mentioned that his company's executives were negotiating a commercial partnership, something he'd sounded uncharacteristically serious about.

'Could this "good news" be tied to that deal?' Rosh wondered, though he kept his thoughts to himself.

Apparently, his silence didn't sit well with Wade.

"Boss! You're no fun!" another message pinged. "Aren't you even gonna ask me what the good news is? I've been waiting for you to ask!"

When Rosh still didn't respond, the floodgates opened.

One message turned into five. Then ten. Then twenty. Deadpool's trademark impatience came to life as he spammed Rosh's phone with messages ranging from all-caps demands to a string of emojis that made absolutely no sense.

"BOSS! HELLOOOO??"

"IT'S REALLY GOOD NEWS, I SWEAR!"

"Don't make me come over there!"

"🎭🛁💄💥🍕🐸 (???)"

Rosh sighed. Dealing with Deadpool was like dealing with a hyperactive child who'd been given too much caffeine—and maybe some explosives. Whatever this "good news" was, he had a feeling it was going to be as chaotic as Wade himself.

"You always do this, Boss! Every single time! Ugh, it's so annoying—making me blurt it out myself!" Deadpool's frustration practically jumped off the screen.

"Fine! Since you're clearly dying to know the good news, here it is: My boss just met with me, and guess what? Next month, I'm starring in a commercial!"

"That's right! Me! The main character!" Wade's excitement was palpable, his messages practically vibrating with energy. 

"Sure, it's just a commercial for now," he continued, "but you know what this means, right? This is the beginning of my journey to superstardom! With my dazzling looks and irresistible charm, Hollywood won't know what hit it!"

Rosh couldn't help but chuckle. 'Of course, it's a commercial,' he thought. Deadpool's enthusiasm was so over-the-top it was almost contagious.

"Congrats, Wade!" he typed back, struggling to suppress his laughter.

It was still surreal to Rosh that the same Deadpool who once left a trail of chaos and destruction was now on the verge of becoming a full-blown celebrity. When Wade had first sauntered into the Devil Fruit shop months ago, his mind was fixated on power and mayhem; Rosh never could have predicted this bizarre twist in his life.

The butterfly effect of Rosh's presence in this world had nudged many down unexpected paths. Still, Deadpool's transformation into an eccentric skincare mogul and aspiring actor was on another level entirely.

"Just wait for my big break, Boss!" Wade added, his messages still pouring in. "Mark my words—I'm nailing the Green Lantern role next! Redemption arc, baby!"

'Green Lantern? Oh, God.' Rosh shook his head, stifling another laugh. Wade's confidence was as unshakable as ever, his ambitions reaching absurd new heights.

After indulging in the conversation a bit longer, Rosh finally logged off the platform. Wade's hyperactive energy had left him simultaneously entertained and slightly drained.

Needing a break, Rosh scrolled through some short videos, played a few rounds of his favorite game, and leaned back to relax. The peaceful rhythm of the shop enveloped him once more—until the doorbell chimed, announcing the arrival of a new customer.

Looking up from his seat, Rosh observed the man stepping into his shop. His rugged appearance and his lean yet powerfully built frame gave off an air of barely contained aggression. The faint wildness in his demeanor, coupled with his sharp eyes, made him stand out despite the effort he'd put into blending in.

Outwardly, Rosh maintained his calm, professional demeanor. Inwardly, though, a knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

'Crossbones.'

The man before him was Brock Rumlow—better known as Crossbones. While he had attempted to pass himself off as an unassuming office worker, Rosh's discerning eyes weren't so easily fooled. Rumlow's stance, his subtle air of intimidation, and the faint scars hidden beneath his neatly pressed attire gave him away instantly.

'So, Hydra's finally making a move,' Rosh mused silently.

He wasn't surprised. With S.H.I.E.L.D.—or rather, Hydra's deep infiltration into the organization—it was inevitable that someone would take an interest in his shop.

After all, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton had already acquired Devil Fruits, each gaining remarkable abilities that made them even more dangerous assets. With its far-reaching influence, Hydra was bound to notice sooner or later. 

Rumlow's approach was deliberate and cautious, his voice smooth but tinged with faux curiosity as he said, "Hello, Shopkeeper. I've been hearing whispers about these... Devil Fruits. Could you tell me more about them? I've never encountered anything like this before."

Before Rosh could formulate a response, a sharp, urgent alert rang out in his mind.

[Alert! Alert! Unauthorized order detected. Host, please address immediately!]

The system's voice was clear and unyielding, and Rosh didn't need further explanation. The shop's policies were strict, and Hydra's operatives, by default, were blacklisted from making any purchases. Crossbones was already out of luck before he'd even stepped foot inside.

S.H.I.E.L.D. already had three fruit owners in Nick Fury, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton. While each of them appeared to be loyal agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Rosh understood the tangled web beneath the surface. Hydra's infiltration of the organization ran so deep that these three operatives could, in a roundabout way, be considered under Alexander Pierce's influence.

Whether he realized it or not, Crossbones had walked into a dead end. No matter how he tried to present himself or how carefully he chose his words, the outcome was already set in stone: he wasn't walking out of there with a Devil Fruit.

"Apologies, sir. While I appreciate your interest, our shop operates on a strict members-only policy. Unfortunately, I'm unable to assist you," Rosh said smoothly, his tone calm yet decisive. He had used this very excuse before, effectively turning away other questionable clients—like the Hand.

Crossbones' polite smile wavered for a split second, his surprise evident before he quickly masked it. "Membership-only? That's... unexpected."

He leaned back slightly, feigning a more casual demeanor. "I must admit, I didn't anticipate such exclusivity from a place like this."

It was a fair observation. At first glance, the shop appeared modest and unassuming—nothing like the luxurious establishments typically associated with membership systems. And yet, rumors about the shop's mysterious products had drawn him here.

Still, Crossbones wasn't one to give up so easily. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with calculated curiosity. "So, how does one become a member? Surely there's a process."

"Our standards are specific, and membership is invitation-only. Unfortunately, you don't meet the criteria," Rosh explained, his tone polite but unwavering. He gestured toward the door, his meaning crystal clear.

Crossbones' expression hardened momentarily, but he quickly recovered, forcing a low chuckle. "Now, come on, shopkeeper. Surely it wouldn't hurt to make an exception just this once? What's one little fruit between us?"

He leaned forward, lowering his voice as though they were sharing a secret. "Or is it the price? You think I can't pay?"

But Rosh's response was unyielding. 

Rosh didn't so much as blink. "Apologies," he repeated, his tone firm, gesturing again toward the door.

The tension in the room thickened as Crossbones realized the shopkeeper wasn't going to budge. His forced smile slowly faded, replaced by a cold, calculating look.

"Tch, what a ridiculous policy. Acting all high and mighty over some weird-looking fruits. Forget it—I don't need this nonsense!" Crossbones scoffed, his tone sharp and laced with mock outrage.

"Overpriced fruit with some fancy name—who'd even want it?" he snapped, his voice rising as he feigned anger. 

He threw his hands up in exaggerated frustration, grumbling a string of incoherent complaints under his breath as he stormed out of the shop. The door slammed shut behind him, punctuating his apparent indignation.

But as Crossbones strode down the street, his mind churned. His display of outrage might have been for show, but the rejection stung. The shop's absurd exclusivity only heightened his curiosity—and his irritation.

The fruits were no ordinary gimmick; he knew that much. Fury, Romanoff, and Barton's interest proved their value. Yet, here he was, turned away like a common nobody.

The rules were frustratingly rigid, and Crossbones couldn't shake the thought that the shopkeeper's calm, unyielding demeanor wasn't just policy—it was deliberate, calculated, and maddeningly effective.

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Next Chapter: The Punisher 

Next Next Chapter: Ghost of Vengeance and Justice

Next Next Next Chapter: The Ambush on Tony Stark and the Dawn of a New Era

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