Logan could hardly believe what he was hearing. The information that Victor had killed his lover came from Stryker—the same Stryker who had once convinced him to undergo the adamantium infusion. If he combined that with the intel from Fred, then the murder of his lover and the disappearance of her body… wasn't that a plan orchestrated by Victor and Stryker together?
Their goal… was to get him to accept the adamantium infusion! Then brainwash him into becoming a weapon!
"Wait, you… didn't know that before?"
In that moment, all the fragmented thoughts in Logan's head snapped into place. His mind became crystal clear. He had been lied to—from beginning to end—and never realized it.
"What's this island?" Logan asked, forcing down his rage.
"After Victor caught them… Stryker locked them up there," Fred replied with difficulty.
"Wait… slow down. Who did he capture?"
"…Mutants…" Fred's eyes shimmered with tears, filled with fear and regret he couldn't hide. "…Rumor has it Stryker is doing human experimentation on them there."
When he finished, Fred turned to look at John, who also wore a painful, regretful expression. "Did you ever wonder… what happened to those people afterward?"
…
…
"I try not to think about it," John answered, his head low.
"They killed her just so they could inject adamantium into my body. They murdered her for some damn experiment!"
Logan's fury finally burst. He grabbed Fred by the collar again and raised his right fist. His claws extended as he demanded, "Where is the island?"
"Logan, Stryker keeps it tightly guarded. Besides Victor, not even Zero knows where it is."
Of course, Logan was not satisfied with Fred's answer. He even suspected Fred was still hiding something out of fear, and was about to leave a mark on him when Melin appeared just in time to stop him.
"Logan, calm down."
Melin's Cosmo once again soothed Logan's violent temper.
Logan's rage slowly subsided, and the claws retracted under his skin. Fred finally breathed a sigh of relief and gave Melin a strange look.
He knew full well how foul-tempered Logan was—aside from Victor, he had never seen anyone more beast-like than Logan. For this stranger to actually calm him down… he clearly wasn't ordinary.
Still, fearing Logan might lose control again, Fred chose to spill everything he knew.
"I don't know the location, but one prisoner managed to escape."
"Who?"
"His name's Remy LeBeau, a New Orleans pimp. The guards at the prison called him Gambler God, because he always won at poker. That's all I know."
"What is Stryker's endgame? What's his ultimate plan?" John pressed further.
"He's… harvesting their powers, trying to fuse them together to create the most powerful weapon. That's all I know."
Once they were sure Fred had said everything he knew, Logan and John stopped questioning and walked toward the exit side by side. John didn't have to follow—after all, the club was his business and he had no worries about his livelihood.
But perhaps Melin's words had touched him. He wanted redemption, to do something for the living. Even if it couldn't erase his sins, it could at least bring him peace of mind.
Naturally, Melin followed the two of them. But before he left, he had a few more words for Fred.
"Do you regret it?" Melin asked.
"Regret… does it even matter?" Those three simple words broke down the heavy defenses Fred had built around his heart. He wept with remorse, all the negative emotions buried deep inside bursting out. "I used to think I was a qualified soldier—follow orders, eliminate targets. I've killed people. Many people. Soldiers, terrorists, civilians. But… those mutants, my own kind, were sent to the lab table. I didn't know…"
"So… you regret it."
"Yes, I do. But… there's no going back."
"Go to the Sanctuary. Find Charles. The sins you've committed won't vanish, but as long as you're alive, you can still do something. Not for yourself, but for the mutants you once helped lead to the lab."
With that, Melin left him a business card and walked out.
Fred stood there stunned, processing Melin's words. He stared at the card that only had a phone number on it, feeling like he was standing at a crossroads in life, unsure of what to choose.
In the end, he slowly stood up, picked up the phone, and dialed the number.
It only rang twice before it was answered.
"This is Charles."
"My name is Fred—Fred Dukes. Someone told me to call this number. He said you could help me."
"Who told you that?"
"I don't know his name. He had short black hair, about six feet tall. A pretty boy."
"Where are you?"
"I'm in—"
"Stay there. We'll send someone to pick you up immediately."
"Okay."
…
John used his accumulated contacts to quickly locate Remy LeBeau. As a pimp, gambler, and fugitive, he had naturally settled in Bourbon Street—nicknamed "Mini Vegas."
As they pushed open the door, loud music blasted like a spell, and scantily clad women with seductive bodies beckoned customers. The air was thick with the scent of decadence and indulgence.
"What? Not your kind of place?" John teased, seeing Melin wrinkle his nose slightly.
Melin didn't answer directly, but the identity guess John had made was almost confirmed. To think someone like Melin—allegedly a god—didn't enjoy a man's paradise like this.
"It's just been a long time. I'm not used to it anymore."
Melin didn't actually dislike this kind of place. In his previous life, he had been known as the "Prince of Nightclubs." It was just that he had crossed over too early in time—back when humans were still fighting to survive, entertainment was a luxury, let alone clubs that wouldn't exist for centuries.
Besides, with a jealous partner constantly by his side, Melin couldn't even run a nightclub in mythological times—otherwise, the Cerberus constellation's weapon would've needed reforging again.
"Color me surprised."
"Maybe."
The three of them made their way through the crowd and quickly spotted their target.
"That's seriously cool."
John was already captivated by Remy LeBeau's flashy card tricks.
"Just a small trick," Melin chuckled.
The way Remy flipped and spun his playing cards defied physics. His ability was "Kinetic and Potential Energy Manipulation." He'd used a bit of that power to show off with cards, purely to attract female fans.
"I'll cover the back door so he doesn't escape," John said.
"I'm not planning to fight him."
"Suuure."
Knowing Logan's temper, John didn't believe that at all. Fred had been the same—supposed to talk, no violence, and what happened?
"Isn't he here too?" Logan motioned toward Melin.
"Oh, right. Still, I'll go stand guard, just in case."
Without waiting for a reply, John headed to the back door.
Logan didn't notice that John insisted on going not to block Remy's escape, but because he had spotted a familiar face in the crowd.
"What about you? Want to go get some air?" Logan asked Melin, his mouth twisting slightly.
"Sure," Melin nodded, playing along. "It's not like I hate this kind of place… but if she finds out, I'm done for."
"Oh? Now I'm kinda looking forward to meeting this 'she.'"
That "she" had come up more than once on their journey.
Though Logan didn't fully believe Melin was a god, the power he'd shown so far made it clear he wasn't some pushover. And for someone like him to be constantly on edge because of a woman? A woman he was loyal to? Logan was really curious now.
"You will. One day," Melin said with a smile as he followed John to the back door.
Logan shrugged at the two men's retreating backs and approached the poker table.
"You Remy LeBeau?"
"Do I owe you money?"
"No."
"Then yeah, I'm Remy LeBeau." He took off his hat and gestured for Logan to sit.
Logan exchanged a look with Melin and John to ease their worries, then sat down.
"Big blind's a hundred, small blind fifty. You in?" Remy asked.
"Hmm… that's a tough one. What can I bet with seventeen bucks?" Logan muttered. He'd "borrowed" the seventeen bucks from John.
Melin had more money than he could ever spend, but he figured Logan wouldn't have the patience to sit through a long poker game anyway, so he didn't bother funding it.
Sure enough, Logan's words drew laughter from everyone around.
"Seventeen bucks? Maybe you should call a cab home."
"Too bad I've still got business. Can't leave yet."
"Is that so? Then, sir, what brings you to our lovely city?" Remy asked as he dealt cards to the others.
"Victor Creed."
Remy's hands froze mid-deal, but he quickly recovered and continued dealing. "And who's that?"
"The man I want to kill. He works for a guy named Stryker, on a small island. I just need to know where it is." Logan tried to keep his tone friendly.
But what Logan didn't realize was that the moment he mentioned Victor's name, Remy had already mistaken him for someone sent to recapture him. He wasn't entirely sure yet, so he continued probing.
"Why do you think I'd know that?"
"Simple. Because I know who you are, Gambler God…"
At those words, Remy's gaze toward Logan turned sharp and full of hostility.
Logan didn't notice and kept going, "…You're the only one who escaped from that place. And the one who can take me back."
Remy was now certain—Logan was here to take him back. He stopped dealing cards and waved the others away.
"Nice dog tag, sir. The guys who took me wore the same ones." As he spoke, Remy pinched a card between his fingers. His pupils glowed with a purple-red light as energy flowed into the card.
Logan sensed danger and immediately tried to explain.
But Remy was faster. The card flew spinning from his fingers, hurling straight at Logan.
Just before the card could hit, Melin and John appeared at Logan's side. Melin raised two fingers and casually caught the card mid-air.
"Let people finish talking before you start a fight, you bad kid playing cards."