"You okay?"
Saitama glanced calmly at John the teleporter.
"N-no… I'm fine… just barely…"
Cold sweat ran down John's back; his calves were jelly. Next to a brute like Sabretooth, he felt like a helpless rabbit.
"Who are you?"
Sabretooth glared at Saitama, waves pounding in his chest. He realized, with a jolt, that Saitama had his wrist in an iron grip—desert-dry, unyielding—and no matter how he strained, he couldn't budge it an inch.
Impossible.
What the hell?
There was actually someone stronger than him—overwhelmingly so?
"Saitama…?"
Victor ransacked his memory. Nothing. No intel attached to that name.
"You're not a mutant, are you?"
At last he reached a terrifying conclusion. As Stryker's top hound, he had access to piles of intel—none of which mentioned a "Saitama."
A dozen thoughts flashed through his mind.
"He's Victor! The guy Logan's after!"
John yelled.
"Let me go, Saitama! We can talk this out—otherwise I'll kill you for this, sooner or later!"
Sabretooth bared his teeth and tried a threat.
Saitama gave him a flat look. In his info overlay, Sabretooth's stats were about the same as Logan's—maybe a hair more seasoned in combat. What made Saitama frown was the Justice Value: "−3."
An unlucky number.
He was about to speak when the wall beside them exploded.
Logan flew out of the hole.
"Pah!"
He spat dust, looking a bit ragged. He'd gone in to pry Stryker intel out of Gambit—Remy LeBeau—but two sentences in, the Cajun had charged a card and bounced him straight through a wall.
"Logan…!"
"Victor?!"
Enemies meeting head-on—sparks flew. One look and both men snapped.
"Saitama, he's mine. Don't interfere—I'm killing him myself!"
Logan roared, adamantium claws shinged out of his fists.
Saitama didn't argue. This was Logan's business; no need to butt in.
The instant Saitama loosened his grip, Sabretooth spun and ran.
"Afraid? Didn't think about today when you killed her, did you, Victor?!"
Logan charged after him, voice hoarse with rage.
Up ahead, Victor ground his teeth. He wasn't afraid—adamantium or not, he didn't think he was beneath Logan. The real problem was Gambit. The guy had just gotten a taste for punting Logan through walls; to him, Logan looked like a Stryker stooge sent to bring him in—reasonable, since Gambit was the only mutant who'd ever escaped Stryker's island.
Snatching up an iron rod, Gambit started forward to chase Logan down.
"You're staying put. Let Logan handle his own mess."
A stranger's voice sounded next to him.
Reflex took over. Gambit whipped the rod sideways.
Clang—
Metal rang; the rebound numbed his forearms. He stared at the warped rod now hanging… off the bald guy's head.
Gambit: "…"
John: "…"
Monster.
Even just that defense—if Saitama stood there and did nothing, they still couldn't break his skin. Awkward.
Not far away—
With adamantium in him, Logan wasn't just tougher; he was faster, stronger. The Sabretooth who used to maul him now found himself on the back foot.
"That all you've got, Victor?!"
Logan's claws punched through Victor's chest, pinning him to a wall.
"Do it! Kill me! Get your revenge!"
Victor laughed like a madman, eyes locked on Logan's.
He was gambling—
That his little brother would stay soft. Logan's biggest weakness.
Sure enough—
Snarling, claws poised at Victor's forehead, Logan hesitated as old memories broke the surface. As kids, they'd depended on each other. For the sake of those years, Logan couldn't kill the only family he had left.
"Sigh… brother, you're not killing him again?"
John couldn't help it—he was speechless. Logan… was soft.
"Heh… heh heh… kill me, Logan! Then you'll be all alone in this world!"
Victor laughed, unhinged.
Squelch.
The adamantium blades stabbed his heart—Logan's face twisted. A heartbeat later, the claws slid free.
Agony dropped Victor to his knees—but he knew he'd won the bet. With a mutant's physique, this wouldn't be the end.
"This is the last time, Victor. From now on, whatever brotherhood we had is finished. Next time we meet—I'll kill you."
Logan growled and booted him away.
Victor spat blood, clutched his chest, and fled.
"You're… letting him go? Just like that?"
John was exasperated.
Saitama didn't mind. If Logan wouldn't kill him, he wouldn't, for now. But if Victor started murdering people for sport… Saitama might feel like enforcing justice.
As for Gambit—
He had no say by now. He'd tried a sneak attack already: the charged card that could rival a bullet had shattered to confetti against Saitama's body.
What's there to play at?
This "Saitama" guy… was too strong.
"Remy! Tell me where Stryker's base is. I'm going to kill him."
Red-eyed, Logan grabbed the Cajun by the collar and slammed him into the wall.
On one side stood the bored bald slacker; on the other, John dutifully holding a fruit tray for said slacker.
Gambit's face crumpled.
"I'll talk… I'll tell you everything. If you're going to kill Stryker, that makes us friends. I'll give you all I know—just take him down."
He surrendered. No point struggling—get past Logan, and there was still the bald wall he'd never break through.
(End of Chapter)
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