The Gathering Storm

On the interstate highway, a massive transport truck followed the signal Miles had left behind not long ago, rolling steadily onward.

In the rear half of its spacious cargo bed, Dr. Zander Rice smiled as he handed a bottle of water to Caliban, who was tied to a chair.

"Mr. Caliban, I hope you understand that we're doing a good thing." Zander's voice was gentle and persuasive. "You should know that those mutants, especially X-0, are extremely dangerous terrorists. We need to bring them under control as quickly as possible, so we need your help. This will prevent more innocent people from being harmed."

Caliban's face was bruised in several places, with a trace of blood at the corner of his mouth. Looking at Dr. Zander's smile, he said quietly, "My ability has deteriorated badly too, just like Logan's. They're too far away. I can't find them at all."

"...Are you sure you aren't lying to me?" Dr. Zander asked seriously.

"How am I supposed to prove it to you... Maybe I should agree, then point you in some random direction and waste your time until you run out of patience and kill me?" Caliban said softly.

"Fuck." Dr. Zander cursed, his expression shifting uncertainly.

Dr. Zander believed Caliban when he said that his ability had severely deteriorated. After all, he himself had been one of the people behind the plan to weaken mutant abilities with genetically modified food and eventually make mutants disappear. No one understood better than him how much genetically modified food affected natural-born mutants.

So Caliban was useless now?

Dr. Zander was in a terrible mood. They had previously relied on the tracking signal from the locator implanted in Miles to pinpoint their position, but just moments ago, the signal had vanished.

That thing was embedded directly in Miles's head. It could not have been removed easily. The only possible explanation was that Miles had blocked the signal himself. His ability could accomplish that without difficulty.

So now, they had lost them.

Dr. Zander shook his head in disappointment, stepped back a few paces, and casually said to Anthony beside him, "Anthony, deal with him."

"Heh heh, my pleasure." Anthony smiled, cracking his fingers as he walked toward Caliban.

Not long afterward, a string of suppressed, agonized screams reached everyone's ears.

Dr. Zander sat on the edge of the truck, smoking gloomily and paying no attention to the screams.

Ever since he had nearly suffocated after being trapped inside the command vehicle last time, he no longer dared to ride in fully enclosed vehicles. Now, he continued thinking about how to track Miles. Without the locator signal, and with Caliban, the "mutant radar," unable to function, finding those few mutants in a country as vast as the United States was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

"Beep beep beep..."

Just then, the satellite phone in his pocket began to ring.

Dr. Zander took out the phone. Seeing an unfamiliar number, he thought for a moment before answering.

"Hello, is this Dr. Zander Rice?" An unfamiliar voice came from the other end, though it clearly knew Dr. Zander's background well.

"My name is Davis. I know you're looking for several special 'assets.' Perhaps we can cooperate."

"How?" Zander asked warily.

"Very simply. We can provide you with the exact location of those 'targets.'"

"Hm?" Dr. Zander's expression changed. "And then?"

"Then we should discuss the rest in person." Davis said over the phone. "I'm at the intersection ahead of you..."

Following Davis's instructions, Zander had the convoy pull over at a secluded roadside spot. Soon, a black sedan arrived. A man in a neat suit and gold-rimmed glasses stepped out. It was Davis.

"Pleased to meet you, Dr. Zander. I'm Davis Connor." Davis smiled and extended his hand. "We're very interested in your target, X-0, and would like to learn more. Here's to a pleasant partnership."

"May I ask where you're from?" Dr. Zander asked, sizing Davis up.

"Sorry, that information is unavailable for now." Davis shrugged.

"All right." Dr. Zander nodded. He had a vague guess, but did not voice it. Instead, he directly clasped Davis's hand. "Pleasure working with you!"

Just like that, the two sides reached an agreement.

Not long afterward, Dr. Zander stood before X-24, who was fully prepared to move out.

He personally removed the tiny earpiece from X-24's ear, then took out a photograph of Miles and held it before X-24's eyes. In a serious, unquestionable tone, he said:

"Remember, I'm giving you only one order this time! Bring this little brat back alive!"

"You're free to act on your own this time. Until you see me again, ignore every voice you hear!"

X-24 remained expressionless, staring intently at the photograph as if trying to carve that face into his mind.

Kansas City, Morgan Bank.

Logan pushed Miles's wheelchair out through the main entrance without drawing anyone's attention.

Just moments earlier, the two had gone into the bank to withdraw money. Logan had simply taken out one hundred dollars in cash, but at the same time, Miles had activated his ability and hacked into the bank's mainframe. Without anyone noticing, he transferred another two million dollars into Logan's account.

Since banking system data was interconnected across the country, Miles could not conveniently conjure two million dollars out of thin air, as that would cause problems in the bank headquarters' system. Transfers, however, posed no such concern. As he had said, if he wanted to, he could empty the bank completely without leaving any clear data trail behind.

Of course, it could not remain hidden forever, but Miles could ensure that even if the bank discovered it, they would never be able to trace Logan or himself through data.

That was the terrifying power of Electronic Signal Manipulation. Its direct combat capability was not particularly strong, but it was enough to affect the very foundation of modern human society's order!

Unfortunately, his ability still had flaws. Electronic Signal Manipulation was still an extension of his own Telepathy, and the range of his Telepathy was currently limited to around three kilometers. In other words, for sensitive operations such as altering data, he had to be physically close to the system's mainframe. That was why he needed to come withdraw money with Logan.

"Shit..."

After withdrawing the money and seeing the additional balance in the account with his own eyes, Logan could not help feeling shocked, even though he had already prepared himself mentally.

Miles, however, seemed unconcerned. On the way out of the bank, he was still complaining to Logan. "Tch, this little bit won't be enough. Once I get the thing out of my head, I'm planning to do some 'other research.' That'll require more money..."

"Shut up. We're going back."

Logan ignored his muttering and simply pushed him back to the car, where Charles and Laura were waiting.

Thinking of the enormous sum in the account, Logan felt a vague sense of unease.

Miles's ability had clearly exceeded his expectations. And for Logan, who had spent his entire life fighting... powerful abilities often meant greater risks.

It was a simple question: what would happen if more people learned of Miles's existence?

A mutant capable of controlling every electronic device in the world and altering data records at will... no country or organization on Earth could possibly turn a blind eye to that.

With a heavy heart, Logan stepped on the gas and started the car.

"Did you get the money?" Charles asked from the back seat.

"Of course." Miles nodded. "I looked into the prices here and the tuition rates at university medical schools. Considering that the surgery I need is rather unusual, it may cost more than a million dollars. But it's fine. We already have enough money."

"Will the bank find out?"

"Possibly. Humans rely on electronic data, but not entirely. Sooner or later, manual checks will uncover something." Miles spoke calmly. "But it's fine. I destroyed all the surveillance records. Even if they notice, they won't find any leads."

"..."

Old Charles sighed silently, then said, "Promise me, Miles. Only this once."

"Why?" Miles asked. "You know it. Banks in this country always have plenty of money. A few million dollars is nothing in the American financial system."

"Miles." Old Charles looked into Miles's eyes. "You're smart. You know what I mean. So promise me, only this once!"

"..." Miles turned his head away and let out a deep sigh. "Fine... Damn it, I really don't understand why an old man who's about to die is so stubborn about this."

"I'm an educator, Miles," Old Charles said. "It's my duty."

"Tch... What a boring thing."

Several hours later, University of Kansas Medical School, central campus.

The place had a beautiful environment and advanced facilities. It was one of the top medical centers in the United States.

Logan pushed Miles in his wheelchair into the hospital lobby. After speaking with the staff, they made an appointment with a neurosurgeon named James.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Miles... Your condition is rather unusual."

Dr. James, a man around fifty with gold-rimmed glasses, looked troubled as he read the examination reports Logan had handed him. "First, your symptoms are extremely complicated, especially since they involve complex surgery inside the brain. The risk is extraordinarily high. And also... it is inconvenient for us to accept mutants here."

Logan's face darkened, and his fist clenched unconsciously.

But beside him, Miles calmly said, "We can pay additional treatment fees and ensure the process remains confidential. We won't make it public. If necessary, we can sign any agreement."

"One million. Is that enough?"

"This isn't about money..."

"One point two million."

"...Can you really come up with that much money?"

"One point five million." Miles spoke calmly. "I want the surgery to begin within a day!"

"This..." Listening to Miles's demand, cold sweat formed on James's forehead. He instinctively said, "I need to contact the hospital board..."

"Please do." Miles waved a hand.

This was the United States. Every American knew that as long as you had enough money, no problem was truly a problem.

Very soon, after Logan proved that they did indeed have the means to pay, the person receiving them was replaced by the dean of the University of Kansas Medical School, Dr. Evelyn Li De.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Logan." Dr. Li De, the nearly sixty-year-old female dean, spoke to Logan before lowering her gaze to Miles. "We have already assembled the relevant panel of specialists. We expect to have a treatment plan within two hours, after which we can perform surgery on your son."

"He's my... nephew." Logan corrected her awkwardly.

"Yes, that's right. I'm his nephew." Miles nodded along, then added, "Speaking of which, Dr. Li De, do you happen to have a cousin named Richards who is also a doctor?"

"I don't. Why do you ask? Are you well acquainted with this Mr. Richards?" Dr. Li De asked in return.

"Oh, I just wanted to say that if your cousin Richards happens to be on my consultation team, remember to kick him out. I don't want to wake up and find that the little thing at the back of my head hasn't disappeared, but has somehow been joined by a few other strange things."

"..." Dr. Li De frowned and instinctively looked toward Logan.

Logan expressionlessly pointed at his own head for Dr. Li De.

"Don't mind him. There's something wrong with his brain."