Marvel: Starting with the forced creation of villainous characters

Chapter 68: Fighting for the Rise of Mutants.

"I was wrong." Charles lowered his head, his face full of shame.

Two stubborn people decided the winner in this way.

At this moment, it goes without saying who is right.

He successfully prevented Eric from destroying humanity several times, but he couldn't stop humanity from destroying mutants.

"It's pointless to say all this now," Eric scoffed.

Charles looked at Eric with hopeful eyes.

"Perhaps it's not too late. If we destroy those drinks that suppress the X gene, maybe new mutants will be born in this world."

Eric shook his head, his eyes filled with pain, and said in despair, "It's no use. With my abilities alone, I can't threaten those humans."

He wasn't the elderly Magneto; he had been in this world for three months, and Eric knew exactly how advanced the technology of this world was.

He might be able to make another "sudden appearance" at the White House, but that would only threaten the president in the White House, not the invisible political force.

It's not that the American government can't tolerate mutants, but that particular class can't tolerate mutants.

A single change can wipe out the savings of three generations of others. How can capitalists accept such a change?

Seeing Eric's self-destructive state, Charles, his eyes regaining hope, said firmly, "Logan, while I'm still lucid, do me a favor."

"What did you say? You're not going to spill the beans again, are you?" Logan asked with a look of disgust.

Charles, unperturbed by the sarcasm, said softly, "Take me to the underground base beneath the college."

O

"I'll do it," Eric said, pushing Charles out of the cabin.

Although the base beneath Xavier's School of Thought had been unused for a long time, the facilities were still functioning properly. Upon arriving at the underground base, the three did not linger. Led by Professor X, they arrived at a more secluded passage.

Looking at the passageway that seemed to lead nowhere, Logan couldn't help but complain, "Charles, you never told me there was a place like this in the base."

"I didn't know the academy had this place. I think only you and Hank know about it, right?" Eric said.

Charles, with a complicated expression, nodded: "This is my family's biggest secret. Please come with me."

Eric pushed Charles into the corridor, at the end of which was a laboratory, emitting a faint light, and all the equipment was functioning normally.

When everyone arrived at the infirmary, Logan and Eric stared in horror at the scene inside, or rather, at the person inside.

It was a man who looked exactly like young Charles; he lay quietly in the incubation chamber, as if he were asleep.

Eric, his eyes wide with horror, asked incredulously, "This—this is a clone you prepared yourself?"

Eric simply couldn't believe that Charles would do such a thing. After all, in his mind, Charles was a gentleman with a severe moral fastidiousness. Would he voluntarily accept cloning technology? And to clone himself, no less.

Charles looked at the person in the incubation chamber with a complicated expression and explained softly, "He is not a clone. He is my twin brother. We are twins. Perhaps because of me, he was born without his own consciousness."

""

"A vegetable?" Logan exclaimed in sudden realization.

Charles nodded. "Yes."

"So what are you planning to do?" Logan asked curiously, while Eric, who was next to him, seemed to have thought of something as well, and looked at his old friend with a complicated expression.

"It seems you've had a tough time in the past, and you've finally shed those qualities I used to hate," Eric said softly.

He never imagined that Charles would one day possess his own younger brother's body.

Logan, a complete brute, asked with obvious annoyance, "What kind of riddles are you two playing?"

Neither Eric nor Charles answered him. Eric asked, "Are you sure?"

"Of course, we share the same roots." Charles nodded confidently.

Eric asked, "Do you need me to open the lid for you?"

"Please open the lid for me when I go in," Charles said, then laboriously brought his middle finger and thumb together and gently placed them on his temple.

He stared intently at his younger brother in the petri dish.

Mind control ability activated, mind transfer begins.

Charles began to transfer his consciousness into his twin brother, a process that was so fast that it surprised everyone.

Less than a minute later, elderly Charles stopped breathing and fell from his chair to the ground.

Upon seeing this, Logan quickly helped Charles up from the ground. Just as Logan was about to ask something, Charles in the petri dish suddenly opened his eyes and began to struggle inside.

Upon seeing this, Eric quickly tore off the cap of the cultured blood, and Charles, who had sat up from the cultured blood, gasped for breath.

Eric thoughtfully handed his handkerchief to Charles.

Charles hastily wiped his face and nose before managing to stand up unsteadily.

"Did it work?" Eric asked expectantly.

Young Charles nodded: "It's a success, but I still need to get used to this body."

Logan, who was standing next to him, finally realized what Charles was up to.

"Damn it! Charles, you bastard!"

"Why didn't you say you could change bodies sooner? Do you know how smelly your poop is!"

Logan, who had completely lost his composure, was cursing and swearing on the sidelines, and even showed signs of wanting to fight.

Knowing how much Logan had suffered over the years taking care of him, Charles said apologetically, "I'm sorry, I was too desperate about this world before, and I had no intention of living a life of ignominy."

"Now that I've met Eric, who's even younger than me, perhaps there's still hope for mutants." Charles looked at Eric with gentle eyes.

"Therefore! I will fight for the rise of mutants," Charles said with unwavering determination.

Eric remarked with satisfaction, "You're much smarter than Charles was 20 years ago."

"Damn it! I'm an old man who doesn't want to mess around anymore, but you bastard are all fired up. But youth is good." Logan grumbled, but he couldn't hide the envy in his eyes.

Logan said, "Count me in. Life's already bad enough, it can't get any worse no matter what we do."

"God above, I never imagined I'd have to work with a bastard like you one day," Logan complained to Eric.

Eric, in a good mood, ignored Logan's foul language.

Charles smiled as he looked at Logan. He had already accepted this despairing fact and even thought it would be good if no mutants were ever born.

But Eric's appearance cheered him up again. Whether mutants will reappear should not be decided by those high-ranking humans; it is a choice of genes!

Los Angeles on a rainy night isn't beautiful, at least that's what Tony Stark thinks.

Sitting atop his private jet, Tony Stark commanded, "Jarvis, turn on the Bat-Projector."

"Yes, sir."

A giant bat-shaped light was projected into the sky.

Such a commotion naturally attracted a lot of attention.

Some young people still on the street looked up at the bat logo projection in the sky.

"Oh my god! Look! Is that a Bat-projector? Commissioner Gordon is summoning Batman!"

Does Batman really exist in the real world? Is it Bruce Wayne?

"Bullshit! I think this is a prank."

"They're probably holding some kind of celebration, or maybe they're deliberately messing with Wayne Enterprises."

Pedestrians on the street were pointing and commenting on the bat-shaped projection in the sky.

Bruce, who was working in his office, looked at the projection in the sky with a dark expression. He changed into his battle suit and headed towards the Sky Tower.

The Wayne Tower wasn't the tallest building in Los Angeles, but it was still nearly four thousand stories high, and he knew that playboy was watching him from above.

Bruce stared at the projection in the sky with a dark expression, then quietly waited for the playboy whose behavior was always exceptionally flamboyant.

Tony, dressed in his Mark armor, descended from the sky and landed in front of Bruce in a standard superhero landing style.

Iron Man, who had just landed, scoffed, "You're really narcissistic. Aren't you afraid DC will come after you for royalties? Someone actually thinks they're Batman."

Batman asked expressionlessly, "What do you want from me?"

Tony tossed a USB drive in a waterproof bag to Batman.

"Here's the information you're looking for about the Lord of Shadows. Here you go, don't bother me again!" Tony said rudely.

Tony, preparing to leave, added a warning: "And another thing! Stay away from my house and my people from now on, you damn peeping tom!"

Bruce, holding the USB drive, remained silent, simply watching Tony leave in a grand manner.

As the saying goes, "a word to the wise is enough," just as Tony disliked Iron Man's ways, he also hated Bruce the bastard.

Bruce returned to his office with the USB drive and began reviewing the documents Tony had sent him.

Bruce stared at the screen with a furrowed brow.

"So, there are people within the government of this world who worship the evil god Lord of Shadows?" Bruce guessed, frowning.

He never considered that the Lord of Shadows was a person, so he only thought that those politicians were worshipping that evil god.

"It seems that to find the Lord of Shadows, we'll have to look for clues from these powerful figures," Brooke thought. He didn't doubt the authenticity of the information; even if it was fake, he would still give it a try.

This was because it was the first time he had found information about the Lord of Shadows since he came to this world.

The information Tony, that playboy, provided was very complete; he even thoughtfully indicated the connections between these people.

"Little St. James Island?" Bruce memorized the location and decided to investigate it when he had some free time.

Although Jarvis said the island was just a place where a bunch of scumbags had parties, Bruce didn't think so. He suspected there were deeper secrets on the island.

Like Iron Man, Bruce Wayne, a staunch individualist, is more inclined to believe that the "social elites" who gather together have ulterior motives, such as worshipping evil gods, rather than simply doing it for fun.