"Lord Meiln!"
"Boss! How could you agree to this?"
Everyone was anxious, especially Dismask, who had come to persuade Meiln to talk Eric out of his plan. But to his surprise, Meiln agreed to Eric's crazy move, completely blocking their efforts to talk Eric down.
Although Eric was powerful, he had nothing prepared!
No goal, no plan, no clues—it was as if he had acted on a sudden impulse out of frustration. While the Saints valued honor and fairness, it didn't mean they were reckless. After being cultured in knowledge, they had all learned to plan meticulously and set clear goals, as these were the basic principles of action.
"Dismask."
"Boss."
"Eric is already a double doctorate holder. You're just a master's student, questioning his intelligence?" Meiln asked with a smile, though it was hard to tell if it was genuine.
"Uh…"
Not just Dismask, but everyone who had been trying to persuade Eric was stunned. They all looked at Eric in disbelief.
Eric wasn't just strong; his academic standing was among the best in the Sanctuary. He held dual doctorates in electromagnetism and mechanical physics, making him one of the smartest people around.
Seeing their expressions, Eric smiled wryly and said, "Actually, I've already contacted Professor Peggy. S.H.I.E.L.D. has provided me with intelligence, and I can even mobilize the armed forces at various outposts."
As they had suspected, Eric had already gathered intelligence. He just hadn't told them. After all, they were worried, but more so about potential dangers to him. They wanted to help, not because of his strength, but because of the bond between friends. It didn't matter if they knew; their concern was genuine.
"Well, well! So you've been prepared all along! And you didn't tell us!"
"You're too much, Eric! Too much!"
"We've been worrying for nothing! You little rascal!"
"No! We can't just let you off the hook like that!"
"Where's the pillar? Take him down! Arubaaa!"
Eric's face turned pale. He tried to escape, looking pleadingly at Meiln.
But…
As he glanced at the group with a look of despair, Meiln raised his head, admiring the beautiful sky, and secretly handed Dismask the most advanced camera.
…
"Uncle, I'm leaving." Eric said.
"Go on, stay safe, and come back soon." Meiln patted Eric's shoulder.
"Yeah, I'll be back soon." Eric nodded. Over the years, he had truly considered the Sanctuary his home. So many brothers and sisters were waiting for him, and even if the gods tried to stop him, he'd still fight his way back.
Finally, Eric glared at his brothers and sisters who had called him Arubaaa, limping away with an odd gait, heading down the mountain.
"Feeling better?" Meiln asked, smiling at the others once Eric's back disappeared into the crowd.
"Heh, feeling relaxed!" The group laughed in unison.
"Then cherish it. Once Eric gets back, it'll be a whole different story," Meiln said.
Everyone: (|||ﾟдﾟ)
They had acted out of excitement earlier, without thinking things through. But now, after the excitement wore off, they realized that Eric's strength was greater than most of theirs.
They could already imagine the scene of Eric taking revenge on the large pillars, attacking everyone with a vengeance.
"Lord, I have something to do, I need to leave first."
"I… I still have some assignments to finish…"
"My paper is due soon. I'm outta here."
…
The group dispersed quickly, trying to comfort themselves. But the Sanctuary was so small. Where could they go to escape?
"Dismask."
"Boss, what do you need?" Dismask hadn't run away; as a Golden Saint, he wasn't afraid of Eric.
"Follow Eric secretly, don't let him notice." Meiln said seriously.
Dismask froze for a moment before flashing a sunny smile. "Understood."
After receiving the command, Dismask vanished from sight.
Meiln stared at the mountain below, deep in thought.
"This is fate, unpredictable fate. Eric has finally walked down this path. He's leaving the Sanctuary, and it's almost time. Soon his best buddy should show up. I wonder what his face will look like when he finds this place," Meiln thought, then returned to the temple. After years of growth, his small universe had reached the pinnacle of the eighth sense, and he was just one step away from the ninth sense. He still had more work to do.
…
After Eric left, he took a train to another country, where the bank held intelligence about people working for Sebastian Shaw.
Finding Shaw directly was very difficult. Even S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence network had no trace of him. But no worries. If they could find people around him, they could trace their way to him.
Eric, while eager for revenge, wasn't in a rush. Meiln had taught him to stay calm at all times. Panicking would expose weaknesses, but with calmness, one could be invincible.
Royfa Square, No. 140, was a watch shop. Although it had only been open for a few years, its exquisite craftsmanship had already surpassed many long-standing local watch shops and was very popular.
"Welcome, what can I help you with?" the shop owner asked.
"I heard you can customize watches here?"
"Of course! Our customized watches are just as good as those old shops."
"Then… are your watches more accurate than the gods' timepieces?"
"Of course. Some data and requests need to be discussed in detail with you. If you would, could we meet in my office?" The owner smiled as usual.
"Sure." Eric nodded and followed the owner to his office, but did not stop there. He continued to follow the owner to a secret underground room.
This was a S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence base. Eric had come to receive intelligence.
"Eric Lancer?"
"Yes, this is your token." Eric pulled out a round coin from his pocket with a groove in the middle.
The owner then took another smaller round coin from the safe, which fit perfectly into the groove. Upon closer inspection, this was clearly a miniature version of Steve's original shield.
"Token confirmed. Here is the intelligence you requested, Mr. Lancer." After confirming the identity with the token, the owner handed over the information.
"Thanks."
"Of course. The captain has already contacted us. We'll provide anything you need."
"… Please thank Steve for me." Eric said, a brief smile on his face before he left the intelligence base.
Back at his hotel, Eric reviewed the intelligence. It mentioned a man named Klaus Schmidt, who had once been Sebastian Shaw's trusted subordinate. When Meiln and Dismask had saved them, Klaus had been with Shaw, so he had survived.
The intelligence showed that although Klaus Schmidt's exact hiding location was unknown, he had a secret account at a bank in this country. The account was directly managed by the bank's president and was linked to a gold bar bearing the Third Reich's insignia—something needed for access to the president.
The report also listed the president's detailed schedule, background, and family composition.
"Finally found it."
After reading the intelligence, Eric quickly formulated a plan, burned the documents to ashes, and left the hotel with the gold bar.
…
Later that evening, not far from this country, at Oxford University in England, a young genetics professor officially took up his post. He was about to go celebrate with his adopted sister, followed by a beautiful woman.
Charles, who was a bit tipsy, was about to flirt with a bar beauty when the stunning woman, who had been following them, stepped in front of him.
"Congratulations, Professor."
"Thank you. Actually, it's much harder than it looks." Charles said, not paying much attention. A beautiful woman was a beautiful woman, no matter who it was. He thought she was complimenting him on his drinking abilities and even proudly glanced at his empty glass.
"No, your speech," the woman clarified.
"You heard my speech? Really, thank you." Charles snapped out of his stupor.
"Moira MacTaggert."
"Charles Xavier."
"Got a minute?"
"Sure. For a lovely lady with an MCR1 gene mutation… I've got five minutes," Charles replied.
Charles, in his usual flirtatious manner, put his arm around Moira's shoulder and began talking: "MCR1… you know, brown hair is a mutation—it's such a nice mutation… mutation, yes, it takes us from single-celled organisms to the dominant form…"
Moira, knowing what was happening, immediately interrupted him. "You know, this tactic might work on your female classmates, but I'm here for business."
"What?" Charles asked, his interest suddenly cooling.
"I need your help. Really need it," Moira said seriously.
"Alright…" Charles sat up straight, sensing the gravity of the situation.
"Your paper mentioned a certain mutation. I need to know if it has occurred in anyone living today," Moira asked.
Charles quickly realized the seriousness of the matter and placed his fingers on his temples, using his telepathic ability to enter Moira's mind and review her memories.
What he saw startled him. A man with red skin, like a devil, and a woman with butterfly wings…
"Heh…" Charles smiled, a little excited. He had finally found someone else like him, aside from his adopted sister.
"Professor? Maybe I should wait until you're sober to discuss this. Are you free tomorrow?" Moira asked.
Charles lowered his hand and ended his telepathic session. "My intuition tells me you already know my answer."
Moira froze for a moment, a little confused.
But Charles continued, "This is important to me, and I will help you as best as I can."
"Thank you," Moira said sincerely. She had received nothing but mockery when she reported her findings to her superiors. Some had even suggested she see a psychologist. She had no choice but to turn to Charles for help, as this situation was critical and could affect the country's safety.