Marvel: Father of Superheroes

Support me and be 30 chapters ahead of webnovel:

patreon.com/Draco_

******

High above the clouds, a sleek black aircraft piloted by Remy LeBeau smoothly navigated through the sky.

Inside the plane, Mike sat in his seat, staring coldly at a dark-skinned man across from him, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Logan and Scott watched Mike curiously.

"Uh..." The dark-skinned man forced a smile and said, "Mr. Kent, is there something on my face?"

Mike chuckled and replied, "Nothing right now, but there might be a mark from my fist soon enough."

Nick Fury's smile froze. "Uh, that... has nothing to do with me."

"Nothing to do with you?" Mike's voice dropped, cold and sharp. "If it weren't for your meddling and your secret investigation of me, would I be stuck with this mess?"

Cold sweat formed on Nick Fury's forehead as he stammered, "That was just an accident. I was just curious about the person drinking with Remy. I didn't expect it to cause you trouble..."

"Hah!"

Mike sneered.

Seeing this, Nick Fury gritted his teeth and declared righteously, "Mr. Kent, you are a powerful man. The world needs your strength. If hitting me will make you feel better, then go ahead!"

As he spoke, he stared at Mike with resolute eyes full of determination.

Mike sighed. Just as a glimmer of relief crossed Nick Fury's face, Mike's fist suddenly shot forward.

The force of the punch sent wind rushing toward Fury's face. He instinctively closed his eyes and swallowed nervously, bracing for impact. But the expected pain never came. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes to find Mike's fist hovering just in front of his face.

Awkwardly chuckling, Fury said, "I knew Mr. Kent was a responsible and compassionate..."

Bang! 

"Ouch!"

Nick Fury clutched his eye, staring at Mike in disbelief.

He hadn't expected Mike to actually hit him, let alone strike him the moment he let his guard down.

Feeling the searing pain in his eye socket, Fury carefully opened his eye...

Thankfully, he wasn't blind. It was just painfully swollen.

Taking a deep breath, Fury forced a smile as he looked at Mike, who wore a faint grin.

He understood the matter was settled for now.

"Agent Fury."

"Uh, just call me Fury."

Mike nodded. "Fury, what level agent are you?"

"Level three," Fury replied, holding up three fingers. "I was mainly working a desk job before this, but because of my involvement in the Remy case, I was reassigned to fieldwork."

As he spoke, he gingerly pressed around his eye.

In just a few seconds, the swelling had worsened, and his vision narrowed. Resigned, he closed the injured eye, pulled out a handkerchief, fished a piece of ice from a nearby glass, and pressed it against his eye.

With one eye closed, Nick Fury suddenly seemed... more tolerable to Mike.

Scott, curious, asked, "Howard said you used to be a colonel, right?"

Nick Fury smiled faintly.

Just then, Logan suddenly spoke up, "Scott, why did you betray the Black King?"

The question stunned both Mike and Fury, plunging the cabin into silence.

Scott remained quiet for a few seconds before finally speaking. "Betrayal? I wouldn't call it that."

"He's strayed from his original purpose. I don't agree with his plans or his vision. I don't want the world to turn into what he envisions—it's as simple as that."

The Black King's vision...

A world where humanity was eradicated by a virus, leaving only mutants to populate the planet—a new world ruled solely by him.

"What the Black King is creating isn't the new world we dreamed of—at least, not the one I wanted. It's a paradise built on death and extinction. It's his personal playground."

As Scott spoke, everyone fell silent.

Meanwhile, back at Mike's house...

Erik had discovered something interesting: a dusty helmet made of an unknown metal lying behind the couch.

He blew off the dust and placed the helmet on his head. It was slightly too big, covering his eyes, so he had to push it up with one hand as he made his way to the kitchen.

Clark and Charles were busy washing vegetables in the kitchen.

"Look what I found!"

Erik proudly displayed his find to the two of them.

Clark turned his head, a thoughtful expression on his face, and said, "I remember this thing. Dad brought it back the night he rescued Aunt Raven."

"A trophy!" Erik's eyes lit up.

Charles glanced back, his heart skipping a beat, but he said disdainfully, "It's covered in dust—too dirty!"

"Here, give it to me. I'll clean it for you," he offered, extending his hand to Erik.

Erik removed the helmet and handed it to Charles, saying, "Hurry up!"

Clark watched the scene and sighed helplessly.

Charles placed the helmet on his own head and solemnly declared, "I think I look much cooler wearing it. It's mine now."

Erik: "?"

"You little liar!"

With that, he lunged at Charles.

Laughing, Charles bolted out of the kitchen.

Watching Charles's retreating figure, Erik smirked and said, "Don't you know that thing is made of metal?"

He extended his hand, and the metal helmet flew back to him, landing on his head.

Charles touched his head, his face darkening. "Give it back to me!"

"This book is recently updated on ##Six@@Nine@@Books@@Bar!! Update!"

"No way!" Erik dodged and ran upstairs.

Charles snorted. If Erik could use his powers to retrieve the helmet, then so could he.

Focusing his gaze, Charles activated his telepathic abilities instantly.

But...

Erik seemed completely unaffected and continued running upstairs.

Charles froze for a moment, then tried again.

Still, it didn't work.

"What's going on?"

He tapped his head in frustration.

"Why isn't it working?"

As he stared at Erik's disappearing figure, his eyes landed on the helmet.

"Could it be..."

As though uncovering a great secret, Charles shouted excitedly and chased after Erik upstairs, only to find himself locked out.

"Erik, open the door! Open it now!"

"No!"

"I'm not trying to take it! I've discovered a secret! A secret about the helmet!"

Erik sneered. "You think I'd fall for that?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Charles retorted confidently.

Erik: "..."

Shameless! Where did he learn that?

Charles knocked on the door and said, "Fine, I'll be generous and tell you. But next week's allowance—you're giving me half!"

"Tell me first!" Erik, now curious, responded from inside.

Charles hesitated before saying, "My ability... it doesn't work on anyone wearing the helmet."

"What?"

Erik opened the door, staring at Charles in astonishment.

Charles attempted to use his powers again. When nothing happened, he nodded to confirm.

"Here, try it yourself!"

Erik took off the helmet.

Immediately, Charles's telepathy connected with Erik's mind. "Now it works," he said.

Erik grinned, happily putting the helmet back on.

The telepathic connection was severed instantly. Charles scowled. "Don't forget—half your allowance!"

"Fine, fine!" Erik waved dismissively, gleefully adjusting the helmet on his head.

At that moment, a burnt smell wafted from the kitchen. The two exchanged glances, a bad feeling rising in their chests.

(End of Chapter)