A glance of approval from the throne, igniting the prison's shadowy Shura Field

Negative Zone, deep within the prison.

Lynn lightly tapped the armrest with his fingertips, the cold metallic touch traveling through his nerve endings, perfectly matching his current mental state.

In his vast, star-studded network of consciousness, all the Data Stream the "Sweep operation" that just took place on the Manhattan street corner were being analyzed and archived at a rate of one ten-millionth of a second.

Crossbones' final, desperate roar, the crisp sound of Jean Grey's telekinesis twisting metal, the momentary deathly silence in S.H.I.E.L.D..'s highest command center... everything played out clearly in his mind like slow-motion movie frames.

Perfect.

Extremely efficient, ruthless, and with a clean and decisive result.

In particular, the act of crushing the Communicator at the end precisely nipped the possibility of intelligence leakage, demonstrating an unexpected and proactive "proactiveness" in taking responsibility for the situation.

For a newly acquired "tool," this result deserves a small amount of recognition.

Then, Lynn's idea began to stir.

A subtle yet authoritative Psychic Fluctuation silently traveled along the Dark Gold link imprinted deep within Jean Grey's soul.

That was neither language nor images.

It was a pure, superior... recognition.

Like a glance from Deity upon a devout believer.

Indifferent, yet containing unparalleled glory.

And in that instant when that glance was cast.

On the other side of the prison, in the temporary control zone maintained by Susan's Force Field technology and Wanda's Chaos Magic, the air seemed to freeze.

Hela, who was idly using her Death Force to repeatedly Oblivion and reshape a piece of metal, suddenly Hela.

She slowly raised her head, and her dark green eyes, capable of freezing the soul, pierced through the distance of dozens of meters and landed precisely on Lynn.

She saw nothing and heard nothing.

But she sensed it.

The feeling was like having meticulously prepared a grand feast for days, eagerly anticipating the king's tasting, only to watch helplessly as the king casually picked up a piece of black bread covered in mud from the roadside, put it in his mouth, and even inadvertently revealed a hint of... interest.

On what grounds?

What makes that red-haired Mutants, that guy who was just kneeling on the ground wagging his tail and begging for mercy like a bitch, worthy of Lynn's attention?

Even if it's just a tiny, fleeting glimpse of attention!

"Click."

The metal fragment at Hela's fingertip was no longer Oblivion, but was forcibly crushed into powder by an extremely concentrated, bone-chilling force.

The pitch-black Death Force did not spread out arrogantly as usual, but instead swirled around her in a more restrained and dangerous way. It was not boiling rage, but Abyss of Absolute Zero that was about to devour everything.

Her jealousy had long transcended ordinary emotions, transforming into Deity, absolute possessiveness that would not tolerate any intrusion.

And not far from her.

Wanda was leaning against an energy wall, a wisp of Scarlet magic thread wrapped around her fingertip, as if she were weaving some trivial thing.

The moment Lynn's Psychic Fluctuation rippled out, the movement of her fingertips stopped.

The thin, Scarlet thread snapped as well.

Unlike Hela, she didn't show any outward emotions.

She simply... slowly raised her beautiful, ruby-like eyes.

Deep within his eyes, the Chaos Scarlet ocean that Lynn had calmed down was once again stirred up.

It was not a raging torrent, but a deeper, more twisted undercurrent.

Wanda even had a faint, neurotic smile playing on her lips.

But those who know her, like Lynn, know very well.

When this Witch shows this kind of smile, it often means that some "switch" in her heart has been triggered. A switch called "injustice".

She could tolerate Hela's power and arrogance because she was an Old God, a competitor on her level.

She could tolerate Susan and Gwen Stacy's petty squabbles, because they were just pets fighting over food, nothing serious.

But Jean Grey...

A prisoner who had just been defeated and subdued.

A trophy so lowly it's practically dust, a prize that earns its right to survive by licking the tips of its master's shoes.

What makes her so special?

Just because she's more obedient? More cruel? More unscrupulous?

So... does Master like this?

So, as long as one can please their master, even turning against their former companions can bring rewards?

This idea, like a poisonous seed, took root and sprouted instantly in Wanda's already paranoid and insane heart, and grew into a towering tree at an alarming speed.

Jealousy, like the most potent catalyst, caused her morbid love for Lynn to mutate wildly in a more dangerous and unpredictable direction.

She looked at Hela, Hela was also looking at her coldly.

The eyes of the two apex predators met in mid-air, without sparks, only a cold, unspoken understanding.

They both understood the same emotion from each other's eyes.

--A sense of crisis.

And that madness—the urge to reclaim everything after being provoked by a newcomer!

Lynn sat calmly on his Throne, taking in everything.

He didn't even move.

He enjoyed the feeling.

He reveled in the sight of these lofty Deity and Witch, powerful enough to destroy the world, falling into a frenzied infighting because of a single, unintentional glance from him.

This is what he wanted.

Loyalty? That's worthless.

Only through relentless competition, only through a morbid struggle to gain his attention at all costs, can the value of these "tools" be squeezed to its limit!

Jean Grey's performance was excellent.

She was like a catfish thrown into a shark tank, successfully stirring up the stagnant waters.

Now, let him see what... interesting things these two hungriest and most powerful female sharks will do to prove they're more valuable than that catfish.

Lynn's gaze lingered on Wanda and Hela with great interest.

He saw that the Death Force surrounding Hela had condensed to a critical point, as if it would transform into thousands of Night Sky Sword at any moment, tearing this Negative Zone to pieces.

This Asgard Goddess of Death has a very direct way of thinking.

Since that Mutants received praise for "Sweep trash".

Then she would offer her master an even grander and more thorough "suppression".

For example, they could transform all the Mutants still breathing in the prison into the Undead Legion that would obey their master's every command.

Simple, straightforward, and efficient.

And Wanda...

Lynn's gaze fell on the Witch's pale hand, which hung limply at her side.

Her movements were very discreet.

However, under his Psychic Network, they had nowhere to hide.

Something is quietly gathering at Wanda's fingertips.

It wasn't a raging torrent of magic, nor a violent ball of energy.

That was a wisp of...

A strand thinner than a strand of hair, yet shimmering with a chilling, deep Scarlet... Chaos Magic.

That wisp of magic had no trace of leakage; all its power was perfectly contained within.

It twisted and deformed constantly at Wanda's fingertips, like a living, highly venomous Scarlet snake.

What is she doing?

Lynn's lips curled into a cold, wicked smile.

She wasn't as reckless as Hela.

She seemed to have... come up with a more "creative" idea.

A plan that would both prove his worth and, subtly, trip up the Red-haired Woman had just stolen the spotlight.

That's what makes it interesting.

A simple clash of forces is too boring.

This kind of reckless flirting with the rules, this underhanded scheming and maneuvering to gain favor at any cost...

This is the most crucial chapter of this epic drama of Shura Field.

Lynn leaned back in her chair, waiting patiently.

He waited to see where Wanda would send that fatal "surprise" from her fingertips.

And Wanda finally completed her "weaving".

That wisp of Scarlet magic eventually transformed into an extremely tiny yet incredibly complex mysterious Runes, which was imprinted on her fingernail and vanished in a flash.

She raised her head and looked at Lynn again, her Scarlet eyes filled with grievance, obsession, and a kind of... fanaticism that was about to offer a sacrifice in order to seek forgiveness.

Then, her gaze shifted, piercing through the barrier of space, and locked onto Jean Grey, who had just "won a great victory" on the streets of Manhattan.

No.

More accurately, it targeted Scott Summers Summers, who was pinned to the ground by the Night Sky Sword, had just been forcibly activated by the Phoenix Mark, and was now unconscious.

Wanda's neurotic smile grew even more pronounced.

Jean Grey...

Do you really think you have perfect control over those "tools"?

Let me... take a look at it for you.