Three Phone Calls: You Think You're God Just Because You Gave Birth to an Angel?

Online news always travels faster than traditional media platforms. Just as Tony Stark finished watching the live broadcast, Xiang Qian had already pulled up the relevant news pages.

At a single glance, a surge of righteous fury ignited within Xiang Qian.

Tony was right; Worthington Industries had indeed pulled off a massive stunt. And to Xiang Qian, who was far more familiar with the internal ecology of the mutant community, this was nothing short of a catastrophic blunder.

"The head of Worthington Industries stated publicly during his speech: mutants are a disease, and they require a cure. Without a doubt, the remarks made by Worthington II will trigger a new wave of turmoil within the North American mutant community.

Currently, the White House and the Department of Mutant Affairs have yet to comment on these remarks, but sporadic protests have already appeared in some mutant enclaves. Some mutants argue that Worthington II's comments border on racial discrimination..."

Xiang Qian browsed through the news content, his gaze growing increasingly icy.

Never doubt the news sensitivity of American journalists, and certainly never doubt their ability to fan the flames and pour oil on a fire. Even though it was already night in American time, Worthington II's remarks had immediately surged to the top of the headlines in political and social news.

Xiang Qian didn't care about what Worthington II said; Americans always touted freedom of speech, and as a major capitalist, Worthington II was clearly freer than the average person—after all, Worthington Industries was a giant in the North American biological research and pharmaceutical industry.

What angered Xiang Qian most was a research breakthrough Worthington II had announced after his speech.

"Mutant Gene Inhibitor."

"A cure for mutants, perfectly resolving the distress of mutant variation."

"We are in discussions with the government to include the serum in medical insurance."

"The promotion of the serum may receive financial support from the government."

Watching the quotes from Worthington II cited in the news, Xiang Qian dialed the legal department of Wude Group with an expressionless face.

"Have you seen the press conference from Worthington Industries?" Xiang Qian asked.

"We just saw it, the team is currently discussing it..." the person on the other end replied.

Xiang Qian cut his subordinate off: "No need for too much discussion. I need to confirm two things right now. First, before they publicly released this product, did they notify us? Did they?"

"I just checked. Neither the President's office nor the company's general secretariat received any notification from Worthington Industries beforehand."

"Good. Then the second thing: did Worthington Industries violate the commercial contract signed with us by releasing the product without authorization?" Xiang Qian's tone remained unchanged, but as he looked at the photo of Worthington II's press conference on the webpage, a cold, murderous intent flickered in his eyes.

"Yes. Our contract with Worthington Industries has a clear product confidentiality clause. The Mutant Gene Inhibitor is a jointly developed product; it can only be announced to the public if both parties are informed and agree. They have breached the contract."

"Then prepare the litigation materials immediately. Have the branch in the United States get ready. As soon as the materials arrive, file the lawsuit. I want to bankrupt Worthington II." A chilling, murderous aura permeated Xiang Qian's calm tone.

"Remember, I don't want the kind of financial bankruptcy where they can still live in villas and throw parties. I want them both, father and son, to be picking through trash in the slums for the rest of their lives!"

The person on the other end hesitated: "Boss, that might be difficult. A simple breach of contract will at most result in some financial compensation. Unless Worthington Industries causes greater losses to its shareholders, there's no way to force them into bankruptcy."

"Just do as I say. You only need to ensure we win the case; someone else will handle the rest." Xiang Qian didn't offer further explanation and hung up the phone directly.

Cause greater losses to shareholders? Xiang Qian sneered to himself. Worthington II had said so many foolish things and was now holding a "weapon" that posed a fundamental threat to mutants—it was a big question mark how many days he had left to live.

Did he think Professor X was truly a saintly, kind-hearted soul, or did he think Magneto would turn over a new leaf and become a good man?

Before Xiang Qian could decide on his next move, the phone rang again.

It was a number Xiang Qian knew very well.

"Hello, Professor." Xiang Qian picked up.

The Professor's voice, tinged with suppressed anger, came through the receiver: "You deceived us, James."

"Are you talking about Worthington Industries? I admit I have deceived many people, and I admit that when necessary, I don't mind deceiving you at all, but I would never deceive Jean." Xiang Qian said candidly, "Regarding the matter of Worthington Industries, I haven't told a single lie."

The Professor had no intention of playing word games with Xiang Qian; he went straight to the point: "You said the serum wouldn't kill mutants, and that is true. But this serum erases all mutant genes. For mutants, this serum is just as dangerous, perhaps even more so."

"Indeed. If it simply killed mutants, they might not dare to use it on a large scale, as that would be labeled as genocide." Xiang Qian sneered, "Put it another way, 'gene therapy' sounds much more palatable."

"James, is this your attitude as well? To completely erase the mutant gene?" The Professor's tone became incredibly serious. As one of the two giants of the mutant world and a powerhouse standing at the very pinnacle, the Professor's wrath was something the whole world could barely withstand.

Xiang Qian, however, remained unmoved: "If it were Jean, she wouldn't ask such a stupid question. Professor, when you look at a person, do you rely solely on your telepathy? Once your superpower fails, are you completely unable to accurately judge a person? Then you are truly disappointing."

"I must be responsible for my fellow mutants." The Professor said firmly.

Xiang Qian burst into laughter, showing no respect for the Professor: "Who are you responsible to, and who authorized you to be responsible for them? Did your fellow mutants vote for you?"

Xiang Qian didn't give the Professor a chance to retort; he continued: "Mutant abilities look cool, but in reality, we all know that very few people can enjoy their abilities with minimal side effects—probably only a little over fifteen percent. The remaining eighty-plus percent of mutants are either too weak to be worth mentioning or suffer from insurmountable defects."

"Why don't you ask if those eighty percent of low-level mutants want the gene serum? Why don't you ask the people around you—Rogue, Beast, or any other mutant who can only survive by seeking shelter at the X-Mansion—whether they would be willing to use the serum?"

Xiang Qian's barrage of questions easily shattered the Professor's momentum. On the other end of the line, the Professor sighed: "I am certainly aware of these issues, but the key is who can guarantee that the serum won't be abused? At the same time, we must find a way to stop Erik's radical actions."

"James, the current situation is very dangerous. Any wrong move will trigger a severe confrontation between mutants and ordinary humans."

Xiang Qian curled his lip. He wanted to say: What does the confrontation between North American mutants and ordinary humans have to do with me? Everything is fine back home. But this wasn't the time to break ties with the X-Men; his plan against Worthington Industries still required their help—whether they liked it or not.

"I'll set off for the United States tomorrow. Worthington Industries' laboratory is located on Alcatraz Island. You've all seen The Rock, right? We can meet in San Francisco."

"Very well, see you then." The Professor knew when to stop; they indeed needed Xiang Qian's assistance. After all, the focus of everything was concentrated on Worthington Industries, and Xiang Qian was their partner and a major shareholder.

Just as he hung up the phone with the Professor, another call came in, as if it were right on its heels.

It was also the number of an acquaintance.

"Mr. Worthington, it's rare that you still remember to call me." Xiang Qian smiled, his teeth gritted.

A somewhat aged voice came through the earpiece, carrying a hint of exhaustion and a touch of urgency: "Hello, Mr. Xiang. I apologize, but I must speak with you."

"Speak with me, or you must?" Xiang Qian sneered, "Is a conversation with me really that important? Or rather, is there really any need for us to be talking right now?"

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean... but the current situation..." The voice on the other end became flustered. But Xiang Qian had no intention of letting him off easily.

"You don't understand what I mean? Do you need me to spell it out for you?" Xiang Qian's voice rose sharply, "You think that because you birthed an angel in your family, you are God yourself, and therefore have the qualifications to act as a savior?"