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"Miss Raven, are you getting used to living here?" Crane arrived in front of a prison, pushed up his glasses, and said with a genial expression.
If one didn't know him, it would be difficult to connect this gentle and affable man with the cruel and meticulous Scarecrow who held the power of life and death.
"Crane, you'd better let me out of here as soon as possible. Otherwise, I'll get out by my own means and then snap your neck. If you knew anything about me, you'd know that no prison in this world can hold me."
The blue-skinned woman, having just finished her push-ups, was panting slightly. She stared coldly at Crane, her eyes filled with an icy chill.
She was a Level Three Mutant, not particularly strong. If she faced a powerful, high-IQ Ordinary Human like Deathstroke, she would be crushed.
But the reason she was considered Magneto's right-hand woman was her outstanding shapeshifting.
Mystique Raven's shapeshifting could perfectly mimic a human's face, body type, micro-expressions, as well as irises and fingerprints. Combined with her high intelligence and emotional quotient, she was the perfect candidate for a spy.
Unfortunately, this time, she failed.
She had infiltrated A.R.G.U.S. to steal all kinds of intelligence and technology. Much of this high-tech information was sent by Raven to the Brotherhood of Mutants, even though the bunch of muscleheads in the Brotherhood of Mutants had no interest in high technology...
As for Magneto? A Level Four Powerhouse with Magnetism Manipulation, who would be qualified to protect an entire planet with life out in the cosmos—would he really care about high technology?
But the intelligence Raven sent back was indeed a great help to the Brotherhood of Mutants. A.R.G.U.S.'s operations were expanding at an astonishing rate. Furthermore, with Tony and his group supporting it from behind the scenes, A.R.G.U.S. had enough clout to deal with The Authorities.
Unfortunately, no matter how strong Raven's mimicry was, the day came when she was exposed, because A.R.G.U.S. is not made up of saints.
"Miss Raven, you are the most perfect spy I have ever seen. If we didn't have very distinct methods of vetting our management at every level, it would have been truly difficult to expose you."
Crane said with a look of amazement, "I never expected that Talon, Amanda Falcone, who has followed Tony for so long, would be replaced by you."
"I can do much more. For instance, I could kill you, then impersonate you and rule A.R.G.U.S. I'm confident I could fool that little brat Tony." Raven sneered, her blue skin unable to hide her beautiful face.
Crane nodded repeatedly in agreement. "That's right, I absolutely believe you could replace me, including ruling this behemoth of an organization, A.R.G.U.S. However, fooling Tony? Miss Raven, you are too arrogant. You know nothing about him."
Crane knew very well that Tony was now a Level 5 Demigod. He no longer judged people by their faces alone, but delved into their gene and soul. At the very least, he could make a basic judgment and grasp of a person's spirit.
Raven's shapeshifting could never fool Tony.
A look of doubt appeared on Raven's face, but she didn't argue further.
She had been imprisoned for a long time and didn't know much about Tony's recent changes. Only Magneto, Professor X, and the others had received news that Tony had become the Sorcerer Supreme. They only knew his power had grown rapidly, but they were still clueless as to the extent of that growth.
Crane suddenly made a gesture at the camera, then personally inputted something onto the virtual screen of the prison door. After another complex test, the prison door slowly opened before Raven's astonished eyes.
"Miss Raven, you are free to go. A.R.G.U.S. has already contacted Magneto. You can leave at any time," Crane said.
"Did Erik put pressure on you?"
"You could say that. But it was mainly because Tony gave the order. There's no point in keeping you locked up any longer."
Raven walked out slowly, her muscles tensed. For a moment as she passed Crane, she hesitated. She truly wanted to kill him on the spot, then replace him and rule A.R.G.U.S. As long as she secretly eliminated Crane, taking over A.R.G.U.S. would be a high-probability, easy task.
But in the end, she didn't make a move. This Scarecrow, who always wore a pleasant smile that put people at ease, gave off an air of confidence that put considerable pressure on her.
Raven gave Crane a cold look, walked straight out of the prison, entered the elevator, and returned to the surface.
Her decision was the right one. Inside Crane's clothes were hundreds of terrifying chemical agents. A simple shoulder throw might have been enough to release the Fear Gas hidden in his sleeves.
Just as the elevator doors closed, Crane suddenly shouted to her, "Miss Raven, we've found a trail of your son, Nightcrawler! We'll send you the detailed information. Consider it a personal apology from me."
...
Dressed in his standard tight-fitting combat suit, Deathstroke walked onto the street with two katanas on his back, constantly emitting a cold killing intent.
Looking at the bustling crowd, the unapproachable Deathstroke wore a look of disgust.
He hated this. Why the hell would an organization like A.R.G.U.S., which naturally puts people on guard, build its headquarters right next to a busy main street?!
And it was even damn close to the commercial district of New York City?!
What was up with that?
Every time he walked out of the A.R.G.U.S. headquarters, his iconic, bizarre costume and powerful aura would draw stares from passersby, especially from some fearless bastards who would point and whisper.
At first, Deathstroke was just a little uncomfortable but not particularly annoyed. He simply ignored the gossip of the onlookers, not even bothering to listen, because the location of the A.R.G.U.S. headquarters was just that ridiculous.
But over time, he gradually felt that something was wrong.
Just like now. The moment his imposing figure stepped out of the building's restricted area, a passing onlooker pointed at him with a look of pleasant surprise and shouted:
"Ah! Everyone, look! It's Deadpool!"
(Author's Note: For those unfamiliar, this is a running gag in DC Comics. The character Deadpool was created as an imitation of DC's Deathstroke but ended up becoming more popular. DC editors often self-deprecatingly reference this in the comics, with scenes where Deathstroke majestically appears, only for onlookers to point at his similar costume and excitedly shout: 'Ah! It's Deadpool!')
A group of fearless reporters, long familiar with the modus operandi of the Supernatural Agency known as A.R.G.U.S., were staked out all day. They now swarmed forward, scrambling to interview Deathstroke with their microphones:
"Mr. Deadpool, is it true that when you're bored, you like to stuff lit dynamite down your crotch? Is that something you can tell us about?"
"Mr. Deadpool, why did you switch to a black costume? Does it better suit your profession? The world's greatest mercenary?"
"Enough! Get lost, you second-rate media hacks! The Daily Bugle is a major newspaper; we have priority interview rights! Deadpool, I'm a reporter from the Daily Bugle. I hear things are getting hot between you and New York's Public Enemy, Spider-Man. Rumor has it you two have a thing going on. I want the details, and we can be generous with the pay."
Deathstroke stood there as if stunned, his body rigid. A terrifying killing intent was slowly brewing within him. *Shing!* He drew the swords from his back, wishing he could just stab this scum to death.
Those with sharp eyes could clearly see Deathstroke's body trembling slightly, as if he were painfully enduring something.
Deathstroke was a professional bounty hunter. Logically, he shouldn't be affected by anger, but every time he saw this trash eagerly awaiting his answers, he felt an irrepressible killing intent.
THESE! DAMN! BASTARDS! I AM NOT DEADPOOL! I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT IDIOT DEADPOOL!!!
Seeing Deathstroke reveal his killing intent, the reporters scattered and fled in a hurry.
Only a group of passerby fans remained, shouting at him with fanatical voices, "Deadpool, can I have your autograph!"
Shaking all over, Deathstroke walked away.
If he didn't leave now, he would really raise his swords and cut down these idiots.
Deathstroke radiated an icy aura. His good mood, which came from finding Nightcrawler in a brutal arena and slaughtering a large number of pursuing arena mutants along the way, had completely vanished.
Not even the twenty-million-dollar reward could cheer him up now.
Deathstroke moved swiftly through the shadows, his stealth skills superb. He rounded a corner, took off his costume, and took a deep breath to suppress his rage, then walked openly onto the street.
He blended into the bustling crowd, looking like a slightly more muscular pedestrian.
But just as he was passing a basketball court, a voice full of pain and pleading caught his attention.
"Please, I'm begging you! You know how to heal my hand! Six months ago, you were paralyzed, and now you can play basketball! Like a healthy young man! Do you want money? I'll give you a lot of money!"
"This has nothing to do with money..."
"Then what do you want? I have a villa, a beat-up sports car, I can give them all to you! I just want you to tell me who cured your paralyzed spine!"
(end of chapter)
If one didn't know him, it would be difficult to connect this gentle and affable man with the cruel and meticulous Scarecrow who held the power of life and death.
"Crane, you'd better let me out of here as soon as possible. Otherwise, I'll get out by my own means and then snap your neck. If you knew anything about me, you'd know that no prison in this world can hold me."
The blue-skinned woman, having just finished her push-ups, was panting slightly. She stared coldly at Crane, her eyes filled with an icy chill.
She was a Level Three Mutant, not particularly strong. If she faced a powerful, high-IQ Ordinary Human like Deathstroke, she would be crushed.
But the reason she was considered Magneto's right-hand woman was her outstanding shapeshifting.
Mystique Raven's shapeshifting could perfectly mimic a human's face, body type, micro-expressions, as well as irises and fingerprints. Combined with her high intelligence and emotional quotient, she was the perfect candidate for a spy.
Unfortunately, this time, she failed.
She had infiltrated A.R.G.U.S. to steal all kinds of intelligence and technology. Much of this high-tech information was sent by Raven to the Brotherhood of Mutants, even though the bunch of muscleheads in the Brotherhood of Mutants had no interest in high technology...
As for Magneto? A Level Four Powerhouse with Magnetism Manipulation, who would be qualified to protect an entire planet with life out in the cosmos—would he really care about high technology?
But the intelligence Raven sent back was indeed a great help to the Brotherhood of Mutants. A.R.G.U.S.'s operations were expanding at an astonishing rate. Furthermore, with Tony and his group supporting it from behind the scenes, A.R.G.U.S. had enough clout to deal with The Authorities.
Unfortunately, no matter how strong Raven's mimicry was, the day came when she was exposed, because A.R.G.U.S. is not made up of saints.
"Miss Raven, you are the most perfect spy I have ever seen. If we didn't have very distinct methods of vetting our management at every level, it would have been truly difficult to expose you."
Crane said with a look of amazement, "I never expected that Talon, Amanda Falcone, who has followed Tony for so long, would be replaced by you."
"I can do much more. For instance, I could kill you, then impersonate you and rule A.R.G.U.S. I'm confident I could fool that little brat Tony." Raven sneered, her blue skin unable to hide her beautiful face.
Crane nodded repeatedly in agreement. "That's right, I absolutely believe you could replace me, including ruling this behemoth of an organization, A.R.G.U.S. However, fooling Tony? Miss Raven, you are too arrogant. You know nothing about him."
Crane knew very well that Tony was now a Level 5 Demigod. He no longer judged people by their faces alone, but delved into their gene and soul. At the very least, he could make a basic judgment and grasp of a person's spirit.
Raven's shapeshifting could never fool Tony.
A look of doubt appeared on Raven's face, but she didn't argue further.
She had been imprisoned for a long time and didn't know much about Tony's recent changes. Only Magneto, Professor X, and the others had received news that Tony had become the Sorcerer Supreme. They only knew his power had grown rapidly, but they were still clueless as to the extent of that growth.
Crane suddenly made a gesture at the camera, then personally inputted something onto the virtual screen of the prison door. After another complex test, the prison door slowly opened before Raven's astonished eyes.
"Miss Raven, you are free to go. A.R.G.U.S. has already contacted Magneto. You can leave at any time," Crane said.
"Did Erik put pressure on you?"
"You could say that. But it was mainly because Tony gave the order. There's no point in keeping you locked up any longer."
Raven walked out slowly, her muscles tensed. For a moment as she passed Crane, she hesitated. She truly wanted to kill him on the spot, then replace him and rule A.R.G.U.S. As long as she secretly eliminated Crane, taking over A.R.G.U.S. would be a high-probability, easy task.
But in the end, she didn't make a move. This Scarecrow, who always wore a pleasant smile that put people at ease, gave off an air of confidence that put considerable pressure on her.
Raven gave Crane a cold look, walked straight out of the prison, entered the elevator, and returned to the surface.
Her decision was the right one. Inside Crane's clothes were hundreds of terrifying chemical agents. A simple shoulder throw might have been enough to release the Fear Gas hidden in his sleeves.
Just as the elevator doors closed, Crane suddenly shouted to her, "Miss Raven, we've found a trail of your son, Nightcrawler! We'll send you the detailed information. Consider it a personal apology from me."
...
Dressed in his standard tight-fitting combat suit, Deathstroke walked onto the street with two katanas on his back, constantly emitting a cold killing intent.
Looking at the bustling crowd, the unapproachable Deathstroke wore a look of disgust.
He hated this. Why the hell would an organization like A.R.G.U.S., which naturally puts people on guard, build its headquarters right next to a busy main street?!
And it was even damn close to the commercial district of New York City?!
What was up with that?
Every time he walked out of the A.R.G.U.S. headquarters, his iconic, bizarre costume and powerful aura would draw stares from passersby, especially from some fearless bastards who would point and whisper.
At first, Deathstroke was just a little uncomfortable but not particularly annoyed. He simply ignored the gossip of the onlookers, not even bothering to listen, because the location of the A.R.G.U.S. headquarters was just that ridiculous.
But over time, he gradually felt that something was wrong.
Just like now. The moment his imposing figure stepped out of the building's restricted area, a passing onlooker pointed at him with a look of pleasant surprise and shouted:
"Ah! Everyone, look! It's Deadpool!"
(Author's Note: For those unfamiliar, this is a running gag in DC Comics. The character Deadpool was created as an imitation of DC's Deathstroke but ended up becoming more popular. DC editors often self-deprecatingly reference this in the comics, with scenes where Deathstroke majestically appears, only for onlookers to point at his similar costume and excitedly shout: 'Ah! It's Deadpool!')
A group of fearless reporters, long familiar with the modus operandi of the Supernatural Agency known as A.R.G.U.S., were staked out all day. They now swarmed forward, scrambling to interview Deathstroke with their microphones:
"Mr. Deadpool, is it true that when you're bored, you like to stuff lit dynamite down your crotch? Is that something you can tell us about?"
"Mr. Deadpool, why did you switch to a black costume? Does it better suit your profession? The world's greatest mercenary?"
"Enough! Get lost, you second-rate media hacks! The Daily Bugle is a major newspaper; we have priority interview rights! Deadpool, I'm a reporter from the Daily Bugle. I hear things are getting hot between you and New York's Public Enemy, Spider-Man. Rumor has it you two have a thing going on. I want the details, and we can be generous with the pay."
Deathstroke stood there as if stunned, his body rigid. A terrifying killing intent was slowly brewing within him. *Shing!* He drew the swords from his back, wishing he could just stab this scum to death.
Those with sharp eyes could clearly see Deathstroke's body trembling slightly, as if he were painfully enduring something.
Deathstroke was a professional bounty hunter. Logically, he shouldn't be affected by anger, but every time he saw this trash eagerly awaiting his answers, he felt an irrepressible killing intent.
THESE! DAMN! BASTARDS! I AM NOT DEADPOOL! I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT IDIOT DEADPOOL!!!
Seeing Deathstroke reveal his killing intent, the reporters scattered and fled in a hurry.
Only a group of passerby fans remained, shouting at him with fanatical voices, "Deadpool, can I have your autograph!"
Shaking all over, Deathstroke walked away.
If he didn't leave now, he would really raise his swords and cut down these idiots.
Deathstroke radiated an icy aura. His good mood, which came from finding Nightcrawler in a brutal arena and slaughtering a large number of pursuing arena mutants along the way, had completely vanished.
Not even the twenty-million-dollar reward could cheer him up now.
Deathstroke moved swiftly through the shadows, his stealth skills superb. He rounded a corner, took off his costume, and took a deep breath to suppress his rage, then walked openly onto the street.
He blended into the bustling crowd, looking like a slightly more muscular pedestrian.
But just as he was passing a basketball court, a voice full of pain and pleading caught his attention.
"Please, I'm begging you! You know how to heal my hand! Six months ago, you were paralyzed, and now you can play basketball! Like a healthy young man! Do you want money? I'll give you a lot of money!"
"This has nothing to do with money..."
"Then what do you want? I have a villa, a beat-up sports car, I can give them all to you! I just want you to tell me who cured your paralyzed spine!"
(end of chapter)
