Wolverine

"Bullshit. Mutants are demons from Hell. They all deserve to die."

The earlier opponent shouted, "I get it now. He’s collecting junk to refine poison and kill us all."

Quite a few people shouted, "That’s right, it has to be that."

The gloomy man rolled his eyes. With an imagination like that, why didn’t they go write a book? At the bar, a burly, heavily bearded man with an extravagant hairstyle was staring up at the television. After a moment, he shook his head and continued drinking. What the hell did it have to do with him? Even if that guy made money, he wasn’t going to share it with him.

Just then, a sharply dressed man walked up to the burly man and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mr. Logan, Wolverine?"

"You know me?"

The burly man—Wolverine—turned toward the suited man with a vicious look on his face.

Not daring to slight him, the suited man hurriedly offered him a business card. "Hello, Mr. Logan. I don’t know you personally. I’m a private detective. Someone sent me to find you."

"Who sent you?"

Wolverine did not take the card. He asked impatiently—if he remembered correctly, he did not seem to have any friends. Why did that make him feel oddly sad?

The suited man awkwardly put the card away, then pointed at Wang Bert on the television. "That man on TV."

"That little brat whose hair hasn’t even grown in yet?"

Wolverine was somewhat surprised. "I don’t know him. Why is he looking for me?"

"He specifically left you a note."

The suited man pulled a note from his pocket, cleared his throat, and read, "Wolverine, do you want to know the meaning of life? Uh, sorry, wrong line. Wolverine, do you want to know your past? Come find me. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed."

Wolverine shot to his feet, grabbed the suited man by the shoulders, and asked excitedly, "That kid knows about my past?"

The suited man felt as if his shoulders were about to be crushed. He hurriedly replied, "Whatever it is, you’ll know once you meet him. I don’t think he’d lie to you. He’s a multimillionaire, after all."

Wolverine released his shoulders and snorted. "Fine. Take me to him. You’d better pray he hasn’t lied to me, or I’ll rip out your guts and wrap them around your neck."

"Why me?"

The suited man was dumbfounded. Shouldn’t Wolverine be beating up his employer instead?

"Because you look more punchable."

Wolverine snorted, picked up the jacket beside him, and said, "Let’s go. Since you came looking for me, you drove here, right?"

"I did. We’ll drive to the nearby airport. Mr. Wang specially prepared a private jet for you."

The suited man hurried to follow him and said enviously, "Mr. Wang thinks highly of you."

"A private jet? Damn rich people. There’d better be cigars on that plane."

Wolverine cursed unhappily. They were both mutants, so why was he so poor while that kid was so rich? It wasn’t fair.

"There are not only cigars on the plane, but beautiful flight attendants too."

The suited man chuckled. Wolverine glared at him. Did he take Wolverine for that kind of man? Uh, how many flight attendants would there be? Would there be enough to go around? With the private jet, Wolverine and the suited man soon arrived at New York Airport. People from Universe Recycling Company were already waiting outside. The moment Wolverine emerged, they drove him to the company headquarters. As for the suited man, he happily left with his check.

Universe Recycling Company had leased an entire floor in a building in Manhattan. The receptionist led Wolverine to the lounge and said, "I’m sorry, but the chairman is appearing on a TV program. He’ll be back soon. Please wait a moment."

"Fine."

Wolverine did not refuse. He entered the lounge and found two people already inside. One was a stunning Asian woman with purple hair, long legs, and leather clothes. She held a Samurai Sword, and one look told him she was not someone to provoke.

The other was a short, capable-looking man. For some reason, the moment Wolverine saw him, he felt irritated, as though hundreds of flies were buzzing around him.

"Another newcomer. Hello, I’m Wade, a mercenary."

The short man, Wade, introduced himself familiarly—Wade was Deadpool’s former self. If nothing unexpected happened, in a few years he would develop cancer, then be transformed through torture by a mysterious organization into an avocado mutant: Deadpool.

It was worth mentioning that Deadpool was insane, but Wade was not. He was a normal man, a normal man with a wife who had to work to support his family.

Wade’s voice made Wolverine even more irritated. He sat on the sofa and said unhappily, "I don’t want to talk to you."

"A lot of people don’t want to talk to me."

Wade shrugged and asked, "Are you a mercenary too? What price did that mutant boss offer you? Let’s compare notes and ask for more money. That kid looks like a spoiled rich brat. It’d be a waste not to fleece him."

"I’m not a mercenary."

Wolverine lit a premium cigar he had taken from the plane and said impatiently, "Don’t talk to me again, or I’ll kill you."

Wade sighed. This big guy was really hard to get along with. Come to think of it, for some reason, he felt the other man was a little familiar, like an old friend.

Wade turned around, intending to talk to the purple-haired beauty. She slightly drew her Samurai Sword, cold light flashing from the blade. Wade wisely made a zipping motion across his mouth, indicating that he would not say another word.

The purple-haired beauty snorted and sheathed her sword. She had no interest in discussing mercenary fees with Wade. The reason was simple: her fee was far higher than his.

She was Psylocke, a mutant mercenary. Her appearance fee was measured in millions of dollars.

Time passed bit by bit. Unable to speak to anyone, Wade grew restless and paced around the lounge. After a while, he moved close to Wolverine and asked, "Have we met before?"

"God."

Wolverine looked up. If it were not for that slight sense of familiarity, he would have beaten this guy up already.

Seeing that Wolverine was not going to hit him, Wade was overjoyed and leaned in to chatter aimlessly about everything under the sun. Wolverine became more annoyed with every word. Just as he was about to lose his temper, the door creaked open, and a female secretary said, "The chairman is back. He would like to see you in his office."

"He’s finally back."

Wolverine was delighted. He shoved Wade aside and strode out. Psylocke followed close behind. Clearly, Wade’s noise had irritated her too.

Wade shrugged and followed the two of them toward the chairman’s office.

In the chairman’s office, Wang Bert picked up a bottle of red wine and asked the three people who had just sat down, "Would you like a drink? My mouth is dry after all that talking."

"I’ll take a glass. I like red wine. By the way, can I take any unfinished wine home? My wife likes it too."

Wade immediately said. Wang Bert smiled. "No problem. You can pick a bottle to take with you later."

Wolverine got straight to the point. "You know about my past?"

"I do. What we’re going to do this time is closely connected to your past. That’s why I brought you here."

Wang Bert nodded. "But your story is rather complicated, so let’s discuss it last. How about that?"

Wolverine hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. Get me a bottle of red wine."

Wang Bert tossed Wolverine a bottle of red wine, then poured Psylocke a glass and asked, "Ms. Psylocke, Brora said that as long as the money is right, you’ll take any job. Is that true?"

In the X-Men movies, Psylocke appeared in the eighties as one of Apocalypse’s Four Horsemen. But in this world, Psylocke was a model and a mercenary, around thirty years old and exceptionally alluring.

Wang Bert’s gaze flickered. That meant Apocalypse probably hadn’t been eliminated yet.

Psylocke said bluntly, "I do take any job, but my fees are very high. One million dollars minimum."

"No problem. Five million dollars to do something for me."

Wang Bert smiled. Anything money could solve was not a problem.

Wade’s eyes nearly popped out beside them. Five million dollars? This kid was that generous? It looked like he was going to make a fortune this time.

"Five million? Boss, just tell me what you need."

Psylocke’s eyes lit up, and she immediately nodded. Then she picked up her wineglass, preparing to take a sip in celebration. Unexpectedly, the glass suddenly exploded. Shards flew everywhere, and red wine splattered all over the table.

Psylocke immediately used psychic energy to protect her hand, preventing any cuts. She asked in surprise, "Wineglasses can explode too?"

"American glass. Such poor quality. Sorry about that. Pick a bottle of wine later as well, as my apology."

Wang Bert shook his head and called for the secretary to come clean the table. Once the secretary left, he said to Wade, "I’ll pay you five hundred thousand dollars to help me with something. Any problem? I should warn you beforehand, it’s very dangerous."

In truth, it would not matter whether Wade joined this mission or not. Wang Bert was hiring him because he wanted to use the opportunity to establish a connection and keep him by his side.

That way, Wade would not turn into Deadpool—cancer and such could easily be handled with Money Power. There was no difficulty at all.

It was not that Wang Bert disliked Deadpool. The problem was that Deadpool was insane, and insane people could not be controlled. He could cause trouble at any moment. Since that was the case, it would be better if Deadpool never appeared.

Deadpool himself probably would not want to become a lunatic either. There was nothing wrong with maintaining his current life.

"Five hundred thousand?"

Wade frowned slightly. To be honest, five hundred thousand dollars was not a small payment. He had initially been prepared to ask for one hundred thousand. The problem was that Wang Bert had just offered Psylocke five million.

Compared with five million, five hundred thousand instantly seemed far less appealing.

Thinking of something, Wade said coyly, "Mr. Wang, I can do anything Ms. Psylocke can do."

Wang Bert froze, then understood and made a disgusted face. Psylocke and Wolverine did the same. Wolverine recalled the familiar feeling he had around Wade and shuddered. He hadn’t slept with this guy before, had he?

If he had, then he had better not recover those memories.

"Mr. Wade, I think you misunderstand. I’m offering Ms. Psylocke five million because she is worth that price."

Wang Bert shook his head. "How about this? There’s a gym downstairs. The two of you can fight. If you win, I’ll offer you five million too."

"Really?"

Wade’s eyes lit up. He had some confidence in his own abilities.

Wang Bert smiled. "Of course. Ms. Psylocke, no problem, right? Oh, and if you lose, your fee will become five hundred thousand."

This was mainly to prevent the two of them from working together to deceive him. Either Psylocke or Wade was capable of doing such a thing.

"No problem. I’ve wanted to beat him up for a while, but since no one was paying me, I couldn’t be bothered."

Psylocke smiled. "Now I can warm up."

Wade grinned. "Don’t underestimate me. I’m actually very strong."

"I hope so."

Psylocke smiled disdainfully. Then Wade, who had no idea what was good for him, left the chairman’s office with Psylocke and headed for the gym downstairs for a one-on-one fight—or rather, a one-sided beating.

After the two left, Wolverine asked, "Psylocke is a mutant?"

"Of course she is. Otherwise, how could she be worth five million dollars?"

Wang Bert smiled. "Now, let’s talk about your past. First, look at this photo."

As he spoke, Wang Bert took a photo of a man from a drawer and handed it to Wolverine. The moment Wolverine saw the old man in the picture, countless fragmented memories surfaced in his mind. For example, himself lying in a tank while the other man stood above him looking down at him.

Wolverine stared fiercely at the man in the photograph and roared, "Who is he? Why do I want to kill him so badly?"

"His name is William Stryker, an American colonel and the head of the mutant department."

Wang Bert said, "The Adamantium in your body was injected by him."

Wolverine clenched his fists and asked, "What does he have to do with me?"

"Don’t rush. Let me tell you slowly."

Wang Bert smiled. "Your life has actually been quite tragic. When you were young, your father had a conflict with the Gardener at your estate. As a result, your father was accidentally killed by the Gardener. You became furious, awakened your mutant bloodline, and bone claws emerged from your hands, which you used to kill the Gardener.

"That is not the important part. The important part is that the Gardener was actually your real father."

"What?"

Wolverine was dumbfounded. He looked at Wang Bert suspiciously. Was this kid screwing with him? "It’s true. That’s a fact."

Wang Bert smiled. Wolverine gave Wang Bert an emphatic middle finger and continued asking, "What happened after that?"

Wang Bert continued, "That Gardener had a son, your older half-brother. After you killed the Gardener, he took you out of the estate. The two of you relied on each other and lived together for more than a century. Oh, and his nickname was Sabretooth."

Wolverine said dazedly, "Sabretooth. That name sounds familiar."

"You were born for the battlefield. You fought in World War I, World War II, and the Vietnam War. Later, you encountered Stryker…"

Wang Bert briefly explained the plot of Wolverine 1, then said, "The reason you lost your memory was because your head was hit by an Adamantium bullet. An Adamantium bullet could not kill you, but it could erase your memories."

"Silver Fox?"

A gentle figure flashed through Wolverine’s mind, but vanished almost immediately. He irritably scratched his head, stood up, and shouted, "I’m going to kill Stryker. Silver Fox shouldn’t have let him go."

"I agree. Logan, don’t rush. The reason I brought you here is to deal with Stryker."

Wolverine asked suspiciously, "Why do you want to deal with him?"

"I have two reasons for going after Stryker. First, I hate him. He’s a complete bastard."

Wang Bert said, "Second, I need evidence—evidence that he has harmed mutants."

Wolverine asked, "Does this have something to do with your shitty recycling company?"