Furious Clash Aboard the Fighter Jet

"Fuck! You hung up on me again!" Mystique, dressed in a yellow and blue X-suit, was aboard the X-Jet Blackbird. Wolverine glared fiercely at the disconnected receiver, still trying to hack the satellite signal to make an international call.

Hank McCoy, transformed into his blue Beast form, advised from the side, "Raven, are you still going to try? I really don't think asking him for help is a good idea."

"Really? I think it's better than someone who uses 'for someone else's good' as an excuse to control another person's memories and thoughts without considering their wishes. That guy just has a foul mouth; at least his current behavior doesn't seem dirty."

"I told you, I did it to protect Qin!" Professor X, filled with remorse, suppressed the urge to bite his nails and kept rubbing his lips. "You should know, he was still young when it happened."

"When are you planning to tell him? He's an adult, and not just today. Are you going to keep it from him for the rest of your life, living in the false world you've created? He's a person, with his own thoughts, not a puppet on your strings."

"I—I can't find the right time."

"Ha!" Mystique exploded with fury. Most of the X-Men on the Blackbird were her juniors, and they could only cower like quails, not wanting to be swept up in the storm of their boss's argument.

The only two of their generation, Beast Hank and Professor X, were in a panic, not knowing what to do. Professor X, on the other hand, was being scolded like a dog and couldn't even lift his head.

Just as Mystique turned around, about to unleash another torrent of insults, she suddenly heard a "smack!"

It interrupted his emotions.

Mystique noticed that everyone inside the plane was staring wide-eyed in disbelief, and only then did she turn around to look.

That glance startled him as well.

Because there was a man lying on the windshield directly in front of the Blackbird. It was Henry Brown, who had recently hung up on him and was still in Switzerland.

"How did you—" Fang gave up trying to figure out why the man was lying outside the plane, and Mystique turned back and said, "Nightcrawler, bring him in."

The initial surprise on everyone's faces has now been exaggerated to an even greater degree; their mouths are agape, wide enough to fit a fist.

Mystique turned her head again and saw Henry as a blurry afterimage, passing right through the glass.

We entered the cabin and then returned to normal.

How could you—

The second time, Mystique was speechless, looking at the helper she had summoned.

Quicksilver, who was most impressed by the action just now, asked with a satisfied smile, "How did you do that?"

Henry replied, "By using ultra-high frequency micro-vibrations to penetrate the gaps between molecules, it's possible to achieve object travel. By the way, have you been studying hard?"

Anyone who has studied a little high school physics should be able to think of something like this. Then, by using your own abilities to achieve it, you can expand your capabilities.

"I just don't know if high schools teach these things under the 'happy education' model. Isn't your X-Men's base some kind of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters?"

"Didn't that school teach that? What did you learn there? Did you only learn how to control your abilities and not harm society?"

Another stab mercilessly plunged into the aggrieved Professor X, making him even more frustrated.

Henry didn't know who he had hurt with his knife, nor did he care. He simply gave Quicksilver a wink. The sensible speedster immediately moved to another empty seat, making room for him.

Henry plopped down in the empty seat and said to Mystique in the passenger seat, "So, what's your reason for insisting on calling me here? I'm not getting paid by you X- X-Men, am I? By the way, do you even get paid?"

"How did you know?" Mystique asked directly.

"What do I know?" Henry looked blank. It would be a miracle if he could answer such a nonsensical question.

"I know what Charles did!"

"Who is Charles? What did he do?" Although Henry had a general idea, he continued to play dead. Little did he realize that this was the second time he had asked a question while pretending to be dead.

Fortunately, Mystique, still furious, didn't notice his deliberate actions and made no attempt to cover for her own people. She pointed directly at Professor X and said, "That bald guy altered someone else's memories."

Henry glanced at him to check on Professor X's condition. He wasn't as young as the actor in the movie; he was an Old Bai man who looked to be in his fifties.

He carried a touch of British aristocratic air; were it not for his disheveled appearance, he could be considered quite the gentleman. But now, however, he looked worried, his brows furrowed.

"Can I say this is not surprising at all?"

Looking at Mystique staring at him with her blue, pimple-covered face and those eyes swollen with yellow pimples, Henry explained, "That death stare is far more powerful than a normal person's."

"I don't know what this Mr. Charles did. But judging from his behavior of immediately invading my mind as soon as he heard I was an alien, one can guess that he is someone who thinks he can act expediently for the sake of his own sense of justice."

"So when people around him encounter problems, will he act cautiously, or will he uphold his inner goodness and justice and choose what he believes is the most advantageous course of action? That's why I say that sometimes, a good person doing good is more terrifying than a bad person doing evil."

This isn't the hypocrite's charade of using good deeds to disguise their malice. Rather, it's that some people simply don't understand the inconvenience or harm their actions will cause others, so they insist that their "good deeds" must be carried out, thus harming others in the process.

The professor wasn't one to let people talk to him without fighting back. Besides, the other party was a stranger, unlike Raven, who was an old friend who knew him inside and out.

So Professor X retorted, "You don't understand any of the situation, so what gives you the right to criticize my choice?"

"Well, let me ask you this: do you think the medieval law of cutting off the hands of thieves as an eye for an eye, an eye for an eye, was correct?" Henry asked.

"That's definitely wrong! The purpose of punishment should be to teach people to correct their mistakes, not to hurt others."

Henry clapped and agreed, "Well said, I agree with you. But why do you think it's the right thing to remove bad thoughts from someone's mind?"

"This is different!" Professor X exclaimed excitedly.

"What's the difference? Physical harm is harm, but mental harm is nothing. Cancer is an illness, but mental illness isn't? What about all the mental hospitals and psychiatrists across America? What are they supposed to do then?"

What do you know?!

"I know nothing, but I do know your arrogance; you still believe you're right, don't you?"

For some reason, Henry was extremely happy. Opportunities to vent his anger on Professor X didn't come every day, especially since no other X- X-Men were there to chime in. And having learned his lesson once, Professor X didn't dare use his Mind Stone abilities again, so he could only hold back.

Henry, in his happiness, was momentarily oblivious to his predicament.