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Chapter 659 - 658. Reinforcements.

"Reinforcements?"

James looked at Alex with a puzzled expression at first. But seeing that he wasn't joking, he slowly shifted his gaze down to the photo on the table.

He dragged it closer with his finger and stared at the image—it showed a man nailed to a massive statue, clad in gold-scaled armor, holding a shattered shield. His lifeless eyes stared blankly into the sky, and his face still bore traces of raw fury and disbelief, as if even death couldn't erase his outrage.

Beyond the man and the statue, the background was filled with mangled bodies—some clearly wearing superhero suits. It was obvious from just this one picture that a brutal battle had taken place.

James frowned deeply. Whatever caused that scene must have been a force of devastation.

He took a slow sip of his beer, never taking his eyes off Alex.

"Who's this?"

"Soldier Boy," Alex said casually. "A so-called 'superhero' from another universe. His powers came from a synthetic serum—just like the rest of the heroes over there. All of them are lab-made 'products.'"

"'Products'?" James narrowed his eyes, catching the implication.

"Yeah. Over there, superheroes and supervillains alike are part of a corporatized machine. Born from chemical compounds, raised by media contracts, sold like celebrities." Alex gave a faint laugh. "I know it's hard to wrap your head around. Took me a while too. Truth is, most of them wouldn't even qualify as real heroes."

James nodded thoughtfully but didn't dwell on it. He didn't care much for the politics of alternate universes—he only wanted to know why Alex had come to him.

"If he was just a glorified showman like you say, why send me to find him? And judging by that photo… he's already dead."

Alex smirked. "I'm not asking you to find that version of Soldier Boy. Like I said, I can't use anyone too flashy—any enhanced individual would attract too much attention."

James narrowed his eyes. "So you mean…"

Exactly as he'd guessed, Alex nodded.

"I want you to find a variant. A version of Soldier Boy from another universe—one who looks just like him but lived a completely different life. Someone off the radar. This shouldn't be hard for you, should it?"

James glanced at Alex again. Ever since learning about the multiverse and timeline branches, these kinds of requests didn't surprise him anymore. After a short pause, he raised his head.

"Finding him won't be a problem. But have you ever stopped to ask—why should I even help you?"

"You will," Alex replied with a calm smile.

James stared at Alex in silence, his expression gradually growing more complicated.

In that moment, a flood of memories rushed through him—his missions with the X-Men, the day Charles lost control, the path he'd taken since then. He didn't know if he was making the right choice now, or if any of it still had meaning.

Eventually, James gave a small nod.

"I'll help you. But don't get too excited—I want something in return. You help me with one thing too."

"Deal," Alex replied without hesitation.

"You're not even curious what I'm asking for?" James raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed at how quickly Alex agreed.

"As long as it doesn't cross my moral line, I'll do it. And I know you well enough to know you wouldn't ask for anything like that. So, no—I'm not curious. Just tell me when you're ready," Alex said with a faint smile.

James gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. I'll hold you to it. When I figure out what I want, I'll let you know. But first, you'd better tell me more about that universe."

The world Alex described was simple enough to understand—especially after its so-called Creator God abandoned it.

With no god left to uphold balance, the forces of good and evil tipped dangerously. Still, the demon hunters of that universe had formed coalitions to resist the growing dark. The demons and spirits, while powerful, were forced to stay in the shadows, wary of being exposed to daylight.

After listening to Alex explain the details and key survival rules for nearly half an hour—and finishing his eighth bottle of whiskey—James finally set out on his journey into the other universe.

Alex had shared a lot, and he'd shared it well. But James didn't retain much—just the key takeaways: his adamantium claws wouldn't work on the spirits and demons of that world. He'd need holy water, incantations, and spells.

Everything else? Fair game.

"Here's hoping this doesn't turn into another disaster," James thought grimly, as he stepped out of a narrow alley next to a dumpster, the setting sun blocked by skyscrapers.

He wasn't alone—Polaris and Blink were with him. While James came on Alex's mission, the two young women had tagged along mostly out of boredom.

The moment they heard this universe had no mutants whatsoever, they were adamant about checking it out. Alex hadn't objected. He never planned to leave either of them behind in the "Logan Timeline" universe anyway.

This was their first time stepping into an entirely different world, and despite himself, James couldn't deny a spark of excitement. He might have been over a hundred years old, but somewhere under the gruff exterior, the child inside him still marveled at the unknown.

For Polaris and Blink, it was their second jump between universes. While the cityscape looked familiar enough, the feeling of this place was completely different—and that made all the difference.

It felt like even the air here was fresher, and the weight on their shoulders a little lighter.

Strolling down the bustling street, watching the passersby go about their lives, the tension that had gripped the trio began to ease. For James—so used to being hunted and surveilled—it finally sunk in: in this world, there were no mutants. No wars between humans and mutants. No Sentinels. No Purifiers. None of that.

As they passed by a comic book store, James suddenly came to a halt. His gaze was drawn to the posters plastered over the door and windows.

At the center of one poster was a man in a yellow costume, three metal claws extended from each hand as he lunged forward in an action pose. Behind him, the rest of the X-Men were mid-battle, each unleashing their mutant powers with dramatic flair.

James stood there, frozen, staring at the image. His emotions were a storm—bittersweet, nostalgic, hard to name. No one else could understand what he was feeling in that moment. Hell, even he couldn't put it into words.

Polaris and Blink noticed his pause, and the shift in his expression. They said nothing, instead stopping beside him—one on each side—quietly standing in solidarity as he absorbed the moment.

Maybe it was because they'd been standing there too long, or maybe it was something else, but the store owner finally came outside to check on them.

"You folks into the X-Men too?" the man asked with a warm smile. "Come on in, take a look around. Got plenty of comics about them. Don't worry—reading's free as long as you don't mess 'em up."

James snapped out of his daze at the sound of the voice. He glanced at the store owner and gave a small shake of the head. "Thanks… but no."

"Suit yourself," the man said with a shrug. "Not many people come in anyway, to be honest."

It was a plain truth, delivered with a touch of sadness. But the man's expression made it clear—he was used to it.

Though he was speaking to James, the owner's eyes were fixed on Polaris and Blink the entire time—like there was something magnetic about them, something he couldn't quite look away from.

James opened his mouth, but for a moment, he had no idea how to respond.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, he cleared his throat and said in a low voice, "We've got things to do. Maybe I'll stop by again sometime."

With that, James didn't wait for a reply. He simply turned around and walked off without another word.

"If you want, you can bring your daughters next time!" the comic shop owner called after them cheerfully, waving enthusiastically as the trio disappeared down the street.

He kept watching until they vanished around the corner, then reluctantly turned back toward his store. Letting out a long sigh, he muttered bitterly to himself as he walked back in.

"Oh, Stuart… how many times do I have to tell you—stop looking at girls like that. You just can't help yourself, can you…"

Meanwhile, several blocks away, Blink was still shuddering in discomfort.

"God, don't tell me all the guys in this world are like that."

Just remembering that man's brazen stare made her skin crawl with goosebumps.

Polaris, on the other hand, didn't seem particularly fazed. Or perhaps, compared to the hatred, fear, and murderous intent she was used to seeing in people's eyes, a lustful glance like that barely registered.

"Don't worry about it. Some men are just like that," Polaris said, patting Blink on the shoulder like someone who'd seen it all. "You just gotta get used to it."

Then she looked toward James, who'd been silent this whole time. "Uncle Logan, didn't Alex say he'd drop us off close to that guy? Why haven't we seen anyone yet?"

"Alex said the portal could only get us close, not pinpoint the exact location. He said the margin of error was small, but not zero. That's why he gave me this."

James pulled a playing card from his jacket. He didn't even move, but in the next second, the corner of the card lit up.

Seeing this, James gave a small nod.

"Looks like if we follow the direction this light's pointing, we should be able to find that guy… Dean."

.....

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