Crack. The door of the abandoned factory burst open, filling the air with a thick cloud of dust.
"Cough, cough, cough, this doesn't look like a dwelling for humans."
Steve looked around, frowning.
The dilapidated room with a tin roof was full of cracks, and the fissures led directly to the desert outside. Transparent duct tape was the only barrier against the sandstorms. The furniture looked equally old; the old ceiling fan seemed fifty years old. Unwashed kitchen utensils festered in the cupboards, rife with green mold. Under the scorching sun, the room burned with unbearable, suffocating heat.
This was a place even a vagrant would despise.
"It seems Chris wasn't lying. Someone lived here, but they must have left a while ago."
Natasha noticed evidence that at least three people had lived in the room, proving that Chris had not lied.
"So Logan is still alive?"
Steve rubbed his temples, thinking of his old comrade. "My God, if he really is alive, he must be over a hundred years old."
"Do you really know him?" Natasha turned to look at Steve.
Steve nodded, walking through the room, examining some details.
Natasha followed him. "As far as I know, Wolverine participated in World War II and killed quite a few enemies."
"Quite a few enemies?"
Steve suddenly smiled. "It seems your information isn't that accurate. The number of people that guy killed cannot be described as 'quite a few.' He was practically a killing machine on the battlefield!"
Steve touched the two empty holes on the iron table in front of him, unable to stop himself from falling into a memory. "He was a demon on the battlefield, a god of death those bastard Nazis dared not sleep after hearing his name."
He paused, suddenly remembered something, and turned his head in surprise, asking: "I'm a little confused. Someone like Logan must have left an indelible mark in the history books, but why have I never seen his name in any of them?"
After he was unfrozen, to adapt to this era, he had read a lot of history books, trying to fill the void of his seventy-year pause, but the name 'Logan' had never appeared in any of them.
Natasha paused before saying: "Steve, you were frozen for seventy years. So much happened during that time. I will explain it to you slowly later."
Natasha chose to avoid the question; Steve didn't need to know many things.
However, Natasha's deliberate evasion did not dispel Steve's doubts. "I have to find Logan. There are too many mysteries surrounding him."
It wasn't just the problems of not appearing in history books, but also the confrontation at the New York docks. He didn't believe Logan would forget his old comrade-in-arms, so why didn't he recognize him?
Furthermore, with Logan's abilities, he wouldn't need to live in such a ruined environment. If he wanted to, he could certainly become a respected superhero like himself. Why did he choose to live in seclusion?
Probably only Logan knew these mysteries.
Natasha, seeing Steve's persistence, paused before saying: "Not everyone with metal claws is Wolverine."
"What do you mean?" Steve asked, surprised.
Natasha pondered for a moment and then explained: "There are many mutants, and they all possess special abilities. It might just be a coincidence that they are similar. Also... current biotechnology allows some people to master the abilities of other mutants. Perhaps the Wolverine we found wasn't even the one you know."
Fearing Steve would inquire further, Natasha quickly changed the subject: "Don't worry, I'll have someone locate Wolverine. Let's complete our mission first. Right now, your priority is to investigate the hotel case. Killing Donald's men so quickly was dangerous; that's more important than finding Wolverine."
"Alright."
Steve nodded, took one last look at the factory, and turned to leave.
Natasha was right; the guy who killed over thirty gunmen was undoubtedly a destabilizing factor in society, and they needed to find out more about him!
As Steve walked away, Natasha finally breathed a sigh of relief. She went to a corner of the room and dialed a number: "Nick Fury, Wolverine has appeared. He might be with Professor X."
...
...
...
Two days had passed since Logan escaped Santa Fe.
For safety, he didn't take the main road, instead changing to a used pickup truck and taking everyone along country roads.
The road condition wasn't very good, but at least they wouldn't be attacked, though the price was that it would take at least three days to reach Nevada. "It's getting late, let's rest here tonight and get back on the road tomorrow."
In the small town, Logan parked the car in front of a motel.
The motel was secluded, surrounded by forests, and only hikers and cyclists stayed there.
"Where is this?" Caliban yawned, rubbing his eyes as he looked out the window.
"Link Town," Charles read from the back seat, gazing wistfully at the town stretching out the window. "What a nostalgic name."
During the conversation, Logan had already taken the Professor's wheelchair out of the trunk and patted Laura, who was beside him. "The Professor is in your care now, I'm going to rent a room."
Laura nodded, but didn't say a word.
Since they met, she hadn't uttered a single word, not even a wave when saying goodbye to Gabriella, which led Caliban to believe she was mute.
Logan didn't mind, booking a triple room at the hotel reception and buying a few cans of beer.
Laura and Caliban pushed the Professor to his side and went up together.
The hotel was quite old, with no elevator, so Logan carried the Professor up to the second floor, Laura took care of the wheelchair, and Caliban was the most relaxed, holding the keys and the beer.
Although the hotel was old, the room was quite pleasant, with all the necessary amenities, even a smart TV with internet access, without the dilapidated look typical of age.
"Caliban, go bathe the Professor," Logan said, opening a beer and sitting on the sofa. The cold beer instantly eased the fatigue of the long drive.
Laura quietly watched the television.
"Do you want to watch it?"
Logan noticed her gaze, aware of her past; in that laboratory, watching TV was probably an incredibly luxurious wish.
Laura nodded.
Logan put down his beer, grabbed the remote control, and turned on the TV.
An old movie was playing, Shane, another heroic story, even the picture quality was quite retro.
But the girl didn't seem to mind, resting her chin on her hand and watching with great interest, as her eyes gradually brightened.
Logan didn't interrupt them, silently drinking his beer.
Finishing his shower, the Professor wheeled out, saw the TV screen, and chuckled: "Shane, an old relic I watched when I was young."
"But for Logan, this is a new movie," Caliban joked from behind. For Logan, at two hundred years old, even the first human film would be considered a new creation.
Logan didn't deny it, just drinking his beer and silently watching Laura beside him.
The girl's features were remarkably similar to his own. Although they had only known each other for a few days, Logan felt a strange connection with this young girl; perhaps it was the feeling of blood ties.
After watching for a while, Logan suddenly remembered something, looked away, and looked at the control panel.
[Stamina]: 6
[Strength]: 8
[Agility]: 7
[Speed]: 9
[Intelligence]: 5
[Defense]: 7
[Willpower]: 10
[Combat Skills]: 7
[Prestige]: 30
[Special Attributes]: None
[Special Abilities]: Healing Factor, Heat Vision
[Current Physical Condition]: Gradually stabilizing, but in poor condition!
[Free Points]: 2
[Improvement Points]: 5
Upon seeing the improvement points, Logan showed slight surprise: "Five points, that a lot?"