Like most Wolverines in other universes, almost all have a Victor.
He is Wolverine's only living blood relative in this world.
Before awakening his mutant powers, he was the heir to a large farm, while Victor was the gardener's son.
Later, Logan accidentally witnessed the gardener murdering his father. In a fit of rage, he awakened his powers and killed the gardener. Only later did he discover that he was also his mother's illegitimate son with the gardener, and that Victor was his half-brother.
To avoid being captured, they both left the farm together, depending on each other for survival. They fought in World War I and World War II, using their mutant powers to wreak havoc on the battlefield.
When Logan first transmigrated, he spent some time with Victor. Although Victor was somewhat volatile and even indifferent to human life, he felt deep affection for Logan.
Until decades ago, their paths diverged and they lost contact. Unexpectedly, they met again in Las Vegas.
"It's been so long! I thought you weren't coming back from the Middle East."
Logan clapped Victor on the shoulder with joy. "Where have you been all these years?"
Victor smiled and shook his head, pointing to a small apartment building in the distance. "My apartment is nearby. Let's go grab a drink. So much has happened these last few years; it can't all be explained in a few words."
"Sure, I have time. We can drink all night, no problem."
Logan nodded with a smile. Without a doubt, a few drinks between old friends were essential to reminisce about old times.
Victor led Logan to his apartment, explaining along the way: "After we separated, I've been frequenting various mercenary groups. I did quite well, even formed a small group and traveled the world."
Victor spoke as he walked, reminiscing about his past glory.
"Then..." Victor continued, "the Westchester incident happened. It was a huge scandal, as you surely know. After that, the government started hunting mutants. My mercenary group dispersed, and I was forced to flee. Heh, those were tough times."
As he spoke, Victor led Logan down a secluded alley. "I wanted revenge on the government officials; those politicians ruined my life. But with the arrival of GMO foods, my abilities have deteriorated. I can no longer withstand twenty minutes of gunfights like I used to on the battlefield, so I was forced to abandon my revenge."
During the conversation, they entered a very old-looking apartment building, whose decorations looked seventy or eighty years old.
Victor opened a room door. The small room reeked of dampness. Empty beer bottles covered the table, and the ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts; it seemed Victor usually drank alone.
"Come in," Victor invited Logan inside, explaining with a smile: "It's a bit messy, but it works."
"As long as I can drink, I'm satisfied."
He knew Victor was wanted and that renting a place where they didn't require ID wouldn't be easy.
Logan sat down at the table, and Victor took a cold can of beer out of the refrigerator. They opened the cans, clinked bottles, and drank in big gulps.
"And then? How did you end up here?" Logan asked Victor.
Victor sighed and shook his head, with an air of melancholy. "To escape government pursuit, I took many detours to get here. Now I work for Mr. Norland, a local magnate, a petty guy."
"Do they know who you are?" Logan asked in surprise, feeling that the current Victor was very different from the one he knew. In the last few decades, this guy had probably changed a lot.
"I don't have Wolverine's fame. Even if I used my real name, probably no one would recognize me."
Victor smiled, raising his bottle to clink with Logan's. "That's all in the past." Logan let out a bitter laugh, tipping his head back to drink his beer, utterly exhausted. "I wish they had forgotten about me. If they knew I was here, those bastards would show up armed to the teeth in three days."
"Don't worry, the streets are full of Avengers now. All the attention is on the Avengers. No one knows Wolverine or the X-Men." As he spoke, Victor's gaze dimmed as he looked at the beer bottle in his hand.
Nowadays, even beer labels featured the Avengers.
"Do you regret it?" Victor suddenly looked up, staring into Logan's eyes. Logan knew he was asking if he regretted joining the X-Men. The government's targets for mutants were naturally the X-Men and Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. If Logan had never joined the X-Men and hadn't had such a resonant reputation, with his abilities, perhaps he wouldn't be in such bad shape now.
Logan looked at the bottle silently for a long time, then shook his head. "I only regret having done things wrong."
Just then, a phone rang urgently. Victor answered.
The person on the other end said something, and Victor's reply was just one word: "Agreed."
After hanging up, Victor drank his beer in one gulp and said apologetically: "Sorry, I have to go for a bit. It's work. Wait for me here; I'll be back in an hour."
"Working at this hour?" Logan asked, looking at the time; it was already past nine o'clock.
Victor sighed helplessly: "My boss has an uncollectible debt. The debtor hasn't shown up for days. I heard he just went home. If we don't collect now, we probably won't find him tomorrow."
Hearing this, Logan stood up. "I'll go with you. I don't have anything better to do right now anyway."
Victor looked at Logan and nodded. The two left the apartment and walked toward a dilapidated street near the outskirts.
This street looked like the dark side of Las Vegas: chaos, full of grime and trash, and with a foul-smelling sewer. Some unkempt gang members and addicts sat idly in the street, staring at passersby. The walls were painted with all sorts of strange things.
If Victor hadn't had a menacing appearance, they might have been ambushed by those thugs. The two stopped in front of a rundown apartment building.
"It's here. That guy lives on the second floor."
Victor's gaze swept over the dilapidated apartment building.
"How much does he owe your boss?" Logan asked, curious about the magnitude of the debt that justified Sabretooth's personal intervention.
"Fifty thousand." Victor raised five fingers. "This guy's name is Eder, a gambler. Three months ago he owed fifty thousand at Mr. Notland's casino. Mr. Notland gave him three months, but when the time came, he disappeared. The people below say they saw him gambling in other casinos."
His tone grew colder. "Damn gambler, he'd rather keep the money and gamble in other casinos than pay his debt."
Logan paused. "I thought it was fifty million."
After all, Sabretooth never did anything for anyone, much less for such trivial matters as collecting debts.
Victor simply shook his head, not answering, and walked up the stairs.
Logan, standing beside him, continued: "Do you normally collect debts for Mr. Notland?"
"That's only part of it," Victor shook his head. "You know, anything can happen in a casino. I specialize in handling those kinds of various tasks that the police shouldn't get involved in."
"You've changed," Logan said bluntly. "Before, you disdained doing these trivial things."
"Just to make a living," Victor said with a gloomy expression. "You should know it's hard for someone like me to find a decent job." As he spoke, they reached a large door.
"This is it."
Victor pounded on the door forcefully, making it shake and kick up dust, shouting vehemently: "Ed, open the door! I know you're there!"