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*****
"Are we selling all of these?"
Mike stared at the stack of property deeds in front of him, wincing as if his wallet were bleeding. After all, he'd been collecting these for years.
Clark sighed. "Dad, do you even know where all these houses are?"
"Uh… too many to remember," Mike admitted.
Clark raised an eyebrow. "A lot of these aren't good investments. They're never going to appreciate, but the property taxes—at 1.5% per year—that's enough each year to buy another house."
"That much?"
Mike froze. He'd never actually sat down to calculate his tax bills—they'd just been auto-deducted.
Darn the government!
"Alright, let's sell the lot," Mike said, gazing at the remaining deeds. "How many don't we have to sell?"
Clark's mouth twitched. "Thirty-one."
Thirty-one! All those years of taxes amounted to a small fortune.
"Only that many left?" Mike tucked the deeds back in the case. "Okay—selling these and sorting the restaurant is your job now."
Clark eyed the overflowing briefcase. "Dad, didn't you say selling was boring? Why are you handing this off? Isn't this just to pass the time?"
Mike hummed thoughtfully. "True. I was actually going to give you some of the proceeds… but never mind."
"I'll do it! I've got time!"
Clark clutched the deeds. "Nobody else touch these—I swear I'll go crazy if they do."
"Then it's all yours, son."
With that, Mike hoisted the briefcase and headed upstairs.
When Mike came back down, Clark had already organized every deed.
"Great work," Mike said, waving him off. "Oh, one more thing—try to find a restaurant location nearby."
"I know," Clark replied, then hurried out the door.
After the front door clicked shut, Mike chuckled to himself. Then his smile vanished. He pulled out his phone, dialed a familiar number, and let his finger hover over the screen for several seconds before sighing.
Clark was back-home safe, but Mike had wanted to get Charles and Eric over for a family gathering. They were both so busy right now… better to wait. There'd be time enough later.
…
Meanwhile, on a remote island in the middle of the ocean—
Deep underground lay a secret Brotherhood base. In a makeshift laboratory, Eric examined the sabretooth Viktor before him.
"Are you sure you want to proceed? This is extremely dangerous."
Viktor grinned. "With your help, the odds are in my favor!" His eyes blazed as he fixed his gaze on the molten, silvery metal heated to a blistering temperature.
Edelman alloy.
He'd waited far too long for this moment.
Years ago, Stryker had refused to test his limits—but now Viktor had a second chance. After discovering the special alloy in a fallen research facility, he'd been obsessed ever since.
Eric nodded. "Alright. I'm ready."
Viktor shrugged off his shirt, revealing a powerful, muscular frame. "Let's begin."
His mutation made anesthesia useless, so there was no need for numbing agents—but it also meant he would have to endure the process on his own.
Years ago, this experiment would have killed him. But with Eric's precision control—something no machine could match—the outcome was different.
Eric raised a hand, and the Edelman alloy obeyed, swarming and writhing under his telekinetic command, surging toward Viktor's exposed chest.
"Ah!"
Viktor braced himself as the molten metal rushed forward.
A bone-chilling scream tore through the lab. Outside the door, Huodu and Yinbo flinched in unison. For a creature accustomed to pain, such a howl could only mean unbearable agony.
Fortunately, it lasted less than a minute. The shriek weakened, then abruptly fell silent.
Silence pressed in. The three of them waited, tense.
Moments later, Eric opened the door. His face, previously drawn with strain, broke into a smile. "It worked."
Relief spread over the trio's faces.
"By the way," Eric continued, voice calm, "I'll be away for a few days."
Huodu frowned. "You're going solo again?"
"Just some personal business," Eric replied. Seeing their curiosity, he added, "While I'm gone, you're free to move about—but no trouble. And keep an eye on our friend in there."
He nodded toward the inner chamber, then turned and left. The others exchanged glances and resumed their vigil.
A minute later, the door swung open again—and out stalked Viktor, the sabretooth. His excitement was palpable; the feral energy around him crackled. He flexed his silver claws—cold, lethal edged nails that glinted under the lab lights.
Huodu and Yinbo swallowed hard. Those claws were dangerous in the extreme.
Viktor grinned, impatience in every sinew. He couldn't wait to show his "brother" the final result.
…
X–Institute, Principal's Office
Charles sat behind his desk, tapping the last official file closed just as a knock sounded.
"Come in," he said, smiling.
The door opened and Emma entered, more radiant than ever—love clearly agreeing with her.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, sliding into the chair opposite him. "Make it quick—I have class soon."
Charles paused. "I'll be out of town for a couple of days. I need you to cover things here while I'm gone. Just thought you should know in advance."
Emma waved dismissively. "No problem—I've got it."
She rose to leave, but paused at the door. With a teasing tilt of her head, she asked, "You're not off on a date, are you?"
Charles gave her a roguish smile. "Care to guess?"
Emma shook her head with a laugh, muttered "Boring," and stepped out.
…
Clark handed all the property sales to a real estate agent. He still couldn't get over the agent's reaction when he opened that briefcase full of deeds—mouth agape, jaw nearly hitting the floor. Clark was pretty sure the shock almost stopped the man's breathing.
Though the sales would take time to finalize, Clark had accomplished his mission: finding the right spot for the restaurant.
(End of Chapter)