I Am in Marvel with Unlimited Cards

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Inside a bar in New York, a sign on the door reading "Closed for Business" hangs outside.

The bar owner, still shaken from the brief fight, was cleaning up the glass shards on the floor. He looked up, cautiously glancing at the table in the center of the hall.

Around a wooden table filled with drinks, five people, each dressed differently, sat together in a tense and peculiar atmosphere.

Caesar sat in what could be considered the central position. On his left were Charles and Erik, and on his right were Azazel and Logan.

"So, it was all just a misunderstanding?" Logan, puffing on his cigar, seemed uninterested, though his eyes never left Charles and Erik.

Years of fighting and wandering had honed his animal-like instincts. From the brief encounter earlier, he knew that these two were not to be trifled with— their mutant abilities were both powerful and troublesome.

"He almost killed me," Azazel growled, glaring at Erik, while rubbing his neck, where there were still visible marks from the steel pipe.

"If you still want to fight, I'm more than ready." Erik crossed his arms, his voice cold and unyielding.

No matter what, Azazel had worked for Shaw, and Erik couldn't help but feel a bit of regret for not having acted decisively to kill him earlier.

"You!" Azazel's eyes flashed with cold light. If Caesar hadn't been present, he would have retaliated long ago rather than sat quietly in negotiations.

The bar was thick with tension, and it felt like the slightest spark could set off an explosion.

"Everyone, calm down."

Charles clapped his hands, trying to defuse the situation. Using his telekinetic powers, he filled the glasses on the table and moved them in front of each person.

But Azazel, Erik, and Logan were all hot-headed and stubborn, refusing to acknowledge Charles's efforts, remaining on guard and hostile.

As the situation threatened to spiral out of control, Caesar finally spoke, "Alright, let's all settle down."

It was a simple, unremarkable statement, without any superpowers or intimidation, yet it was enough to make Azazel, Erik, and Logan all fall silent.

Charles sighed in relief and gave Caesar a grateful look before asking, "Why are you three together?"

After all, the combination of Caesar, Azazel, and Logan seemed strange no matter how one looked at it.

Azazel turned away and spoke first, "It's simple. I've left the Hellfire Club and chosen to follow Master Caesar."

"Huh?"

Charles and Erik exchanged glances. A split in the enemy ranks was excellent news for them.

"It's true. He's been clinging to me like a dog."

Caesar shrugged and pointed to Logan, introducing him. "This is Logan, a drinking buddy I met a few days ago."

Logan continued to smoke silently. He wasn't one to make friends easily, but Caesar was an exception.

For some reason, there was an inexplicable sense of familiarity with Caesar, perhaps due to their shared experience as wanderers. There was a silent understanding between them.

"Since everyone here is a friend of Caesar's, what happened earlier was just a misunderstanding. However…" Charles shifted his focus to Azazel. "He did work for Shaw. Caesar, we hope he can provide us with information about Shaw and the Hellfire Club."

Azazel looked at Caesar, who nodded in approval. 

Only then did Azazel speak in a deep voice, "Shaw… how should I put it? He's meticulous in his work and never reveals everything, not even to me. During World War II, he was an officer in the Nazi concentration camps, specifically tasked with training mutants to be part of the war machine army."

Azazel glanced at the number tattooed on Erik's left arm, "The number on your arm… you were in one of those camps too, weren't you?"

Erik's face darkened as memories of his traumatic childhood resurfaced— his mother being shot, his comrades buried alive. The painful past haunted him.

Logan exhaled a puff of smoke, his mind drifting. He had fought not only in World War II but also in World War I, serving as a war machine in battles between nations. Now, weary of war, he wandered aimlessly, like a living ghost.

Azazel continued, "After World War II ended and Germany was defeated and surrendered, the concentration camps were naturally disbanded. Shaw then formed the Hellfire Club, secretly training a mutant force with the aim of sparking a third world war."

Charles nodded thoughtfully. "So you infiltrated the upper echelons of the U.S. military, trying to provoke the Soviet Union and escalate the Cold War. But why? What does Shaw gain from a world war?"

Azazel shrugged and explained, "Shaw believes that mutants are superior and represent the next step in natural evolution. He wants the great powers to destroy each other so that he can lead mutants in ruling the world."

Caesar, listening on the side, was left speechless. It seemed that no matter which timeline, there were always one or two villains with plans to conquer the world.

Over there, it was Red Skull of the Hydra organization; here, it was Shaw of the Hellfire Club.

"Enough, none of that matters!" 

Erik slammed the table, his voice cold. "Tell me, where are Shaw and the others hiding after escaping on the submarine?"

"Submarine..." 

Azazel muttered, pondering for a moment. "I remember Shaw mentioning... that's right, the Arctic. If they're using a submarine, they'd head straight to the Arctic."

Charles's eyes lit up. "The Arctic? That makes sense! It's desolate, with no human presence and no military infiltration."

Erik abruptly stood up from his chair and headed straight for the door.

"Erik! What are you going to do?" Charles called out loudly.

"Isn't it obvious?" Erik replied matter-of-factly. "I'm going to the Arctic to kill him."

"Forget it."

This time, before Charles could say anything, Azazel shook his head. "Shaw is more formidable than you think. Among mutants, he's definitely one of the top. Not to mention he has the White Queen and Riptide, who are both skilled fighters. Even if you brought ten more mutants, you might still not win."

Untrained mutants aren't much better than ordinary people. When faced with mutants whose abilities are specifically developed for combat, even ten might not be enough to take down one.

"Unless..."

Azazel glanced covertly at Caesar but didn't continue. If Master were to take action, none of these issues would be problems anymore.

"Erik, I understand how you feel, but rushing in won't help."

Charles stepped forward, patting Erik on the shoulder, and advised, "We need to first pinpoint their exact location and properly train the mutants who have joined us. I'm confident we will be victorious!"

Erik remained silent.

"Oh, I almost forgot to mention," Azazel added. "Shaw won't just sit around and wait for you to build up a mutant force. If he finds out you're recruiting mutants, he'll strike first."

"Don't worry. That's why Erik and I are out here..."

Charles abruptly stopped mid-sentence, his face turning pale. He looked at Erik, stunned, and muttered, "It can't be... Could it be that the base..."

"Your home... seems to be gone," Caesar said calmly.

(End of chapter)