Chapter 112 — Blanketing the Globe, a Marvel Walkthrough
The night was cool as water.
The time was 11:30 in the evening.
Logan Howlett stood at the door of Wang Xu's bedroom, his expression hesitant, as though wrestling with something.
He knew he was fundamentally different from his three comrades.
He was a "mutant."
Genetically, there was a stark, undeniable difference between him and ordinary people.
At the base, a scientist had once remarked offhandedly that the genetic gap between mutants and humans was greater than that between chimpanzees and humans.
One could even say he and normal humans were two different species.
He possessed slowed aging and formidable self-healing abilities, and claws that could extend from his hands...
Vitality, combat power, temperament...
In every respect, Logan fit in nowhere among ordinary people; only in the army could he truly find himself.
He fought not for justice, but simply because the military was full of men whose temperaments resembled his own.
No one would look at him as a monster.
He could help the Soviets fight the Americans, or help the Americans fight the Germans—he held no political stance whatsoever.
Even Canada, his homeland, he had never regarded as his true home.
Logan liked these three new comrades very much.
They had all survived the God-Eater Project's modifications and become God-Ark wielders, possessing formidable vitality and combat power, and they would not die so easily.
Their personalities were excellent, too.
Warm and kind-hearted Steve, perceptive Carter, taciturn Bucky.
The three of them were always quietly helping him.
He was unwilling to expose his mutant identity—that was why he had come to this place at this hour.
Logan was the classic type who could be persuaded by kindness but not coerced by force; he did not fear being hated or made an enemy, only losing friends and memories worth treasuring.
Wang Xu knew his files and his past; Logan was not certain whether that intelligence would become known to the comrades he had accepted.
At last, he made up his mind.
Just as Logan was about to knock, Wang Huai'an's voice sounded at his ear: "Running around here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping? There's a mission tomorrow—get back and rest, now."
Logan turned around and instinctively raised his hand, about to flip the man off and toss in a "fuck you" for good measure.
Then he suddenly remembered: he had come to ask a favor.
So he reined in his insolent nature and squeezed out a ferocious grin that would have made a child stop crying.
"Don't smile. That expression doesn't suit you."
Wang Yan's tone was irritatingly punchable: "I know what you're agonizing over. I can tell you right now—your being a mutant is not intelligence worth concealing."
"The four of you will be squadmates from now on. On the battlefield, can you guarantee you won't reveal your abilities? Or do you plan to hold back your self-healing, never go all out—even at the critical moment, willing to watch them die in battle?"
Wang Xu flung all this at him point-blank, leaving the inarticulate Logan utterly dumbfounded.
When he came back to his senses, he found that Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, and James Barnes were all present.
Wang Xu's voice drifted to his ear: "Being woken up in the middle of the night isn't pleasant, so I just called them all over. Sure enough—when others are in pain too, your own pain eases considerably."
When Bucky learned of Logan's identity, his face showed no expression, and his gaze remained as calm and indifferent as ever.
Steve patted the burly man's shoulder, his tone gentle, his eyes bright, his words carrying a power that made one's heart bend: "Don't worry. Mutants are people too, and I trust none of us here are extreme racists."
Logan flipped him off while offering him a cigarette from his personal stash.
Steve Rogers hesitated a moment, then took the cigarette.
He did not smoke, but he considered it a symbol of their friendship.
Perhaps he could preserve it, and decades later, when he told stories to his children and grandchildren, he could bring it out as a prop.
Peggy Carter's focus, however, was entirely different from that of the brotherhood-oozing men.
She looked at Wang Xu with a resentful gaze.
Summoned in the dead of night, ordered to come to his quarters...
Any normal pretty girl, upon hearing such a request, would first assume she was about to be subjected to a boss's unwanted advances.
Carter was no exception.
After agonizing and hesitating for a long while, she had finally made up her mind to righteously reject Wang Zhiyao's unreasonable demand.
Carter had even considered the possibility that he might fly into a rage from embarrassment, so she planned to give him a chance to court her, not shutting the door completely.
After all, Wang Xu was young, wealthy, and held a high position; he was handsome, and apart from certain irksome quirks and a fondness for teasing people, he had no real flaws—he was a decent partner.
Who would have thought he had called her over for such a "trivial matter"!
"That's enough for today. All four of you, get back and get some proper sleep."
Wang Xu's expression was indifferent, his tone serious: "Tomorrow is your first mission as God-Ark wielders! If you perform poorly, expect to be kicked off the team!"
Logan, his inner knot untied, gave him a military salute and turned to leave.
The other three unfortunates, caught in the collateral damage, wasted no words and obediently returned to their own rooms to rest.
...
In truth, Wang Xu no longer needed sleep.
When weary or exhausted, he could give himself a shot of particle reconstruction and instantly be restored to full health.
His vigor and spirit were even fresher than after eight hours of deep sleep.
He returned to his bedroom, sat cross-legged floating in the air, and his mental field gradually spread outward.
America, Europe, the Pacific...
Wang Huai'an's spiritual domain enveloped the entire Earth 7777.
The activities of all living beings were within his grasp; no one could escape his attention.
The schemes of Hydra leader Johann Schmidt...
The genius designs of Arnim Zola...
The happy life of the rich heir Charlton Xavier...
The ill-fated destiny, like an accursed lone star, of the Jew Ai Chengyu Lensherr...
The schizophrenic delirium of Hank Pym...
The busty young Natasha, training alongside two Reincarnators in the Soviet secret intelligence agency the "Red Room"...
In Wang Huai'an's eyes, all beings were equal.
Justice and evil, kindness and cruelty—none of it concerned him.
He had come to the Marvel Universe for only two purposes: to alter the trajectories of certain people's fates according to his own will, and to collect Reincarnators and resource points.
The forces under Wang Xu's command—whether Order, Chaos, Neutrality, Good, or Evil—were all necessary.
The Master took three thousand disciples and taught each according to their nature.
The principle was universal.
He could not assign world-destroying missions to the likes of Minato Namikaze and Steve Rogers, nor could he make Orochimaru and Thanos serve as babysitters for little Luffy.
Every Reincarnator had their own unique qualities.
Wang Xu was very good at exploiting those traits.
"Provided the Marvel world isn't destroyed, by the day the great net is drawn in, it should be enough to anchor two other planes," Wang Xu murmured to himself.
Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Peter Parker, Quicksilver, the Scarlet Witch...
Before these people appeared, Wang Shenzhi would drain the pond to catch the fish—squeezing the Marvel plane dry outright.
Beneath the shroud of his will, sunlight crossed the horizon and shone upon the fertile soil of America...