Late in the night.
Lynt was not woken up; he was in so much pain that he woke up.
Damn it.
His entire body felt as if it had been run over by a dump truck a dozen times.
His bones were screaming in agony.
The system's pitiful warmth only kept him alive, but the piercing, bone-deep ache felt like someone was scraping his nerves with a steel brush.
He gritted his teeth, tried to turn over, and almost sent himself to an early grave.
He couldn't sleep anymore.
Good.
Lynt simply closed his eyes and poured all his mental energy into the newly acquired function in his mind.
"Activate, Tactical Simulation."
Buzz—
In his consciousness, a virtual sandbox instantly formed.
Two glowing dots, one dim and one bright, representing him and Raven, were separated by a dangerous distance.
[Simulation Objective: Bluff your way through. Make Raven believe that everything last night was just an accident.]
[Intelligence Input: Raven's personality — suspicious, starved for affection, violent, extremely possessive, power-hungry...]
[Intelligence Input: Existing incriminating evidence — a red hair that isn't mine, gunshots at the dock, my overnight absence.]
[Simulation Initiated!]
On the sandbox, countless light rays instantly exploded, intertwining, colliding, and annihilating each other.
[Option One: Play dumb.]
[Process: Insist that you were drunk and don't remember anything.]
[Success Rate: 3.7%]
[Consequences of Failure: Raven's suspicion deepens by 95%. Highly likely to resort to methods including but not limited to 'physical isolation' (breaking his legs) and 'permanent imprisonment' to ensure the host becomes her exclusive property.]
Lynt gasped, a cold shiver running down his spine.
Good heavens.
This crazy woman really wants to turn me into a human stick and use me as a battery for the rest of my life!
He had no doubt that to prevent him from "running off" again, Raven would personally smash his legs.
[Option Two: Half-truths.]
[Process: Admit to going to the dock, fabricate a lie about working illegally and getting caught in a gang shootout.]
[Success Rate: 11.2%]
[Consequences of Failure: With Raven's abilities, a quick visit to the scene would allow her to piece together most of the truth. The lie would be exposed, trust would plummet to zero, and the consequences would be the same as above.]
One scenario after another lit up, then were quickly marked with a stark red "FATAL."
Cold sweat trickled down Lynt's forehead.
For the first time, he realized clearly that playing mind games and lying to a top-tier agent was the stupidest approach.
Her intuition was the graveyard of all lies.
Since he couldn't cover it up... then he would flip the table!
He would use a future she couldn't refuse, a more exciting, grander future, to crush her damned suspicions!
He would make her shift from obsessing over a strand of hair to contemplating the entire world!
[New Simulation Direction: Dimensionality Reduction Attack!]
[Core Logic: Create a common goal far superior to 'romantic relationships,' forcefully elevating her attention from the 'backyard' to the 'throne'!]
The light on the sandbox suddenly solidified.
An unprecedentedly thick, dazzling light path pierced through the entire sandbox.
[Optimal Solution Generated: 'Survival Philosophy' and 'Capital Game'!]
Lynt looked at the light path, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably curving upward.
The curve was cold, yet carried a hint of madness.
The next morning.
The light, like a knife, cut through the murky air in the room.
Raven opened her eyes.
The sleepiness instantly receded from her golden vertical pupils, leaving only a beast-like scrutiny.
She expected to see a Lynt begging for forgiveness or fawning over her out of guilt.
But there was nothing.
He sat on the rickety chair by the bed, his back ramrod straight, his face devoid of any human warmth, so calm it sent shivers down her spine.
Noticing her gaze, Lynt lifted his eyelids and looked over.
His eyes were as deep as a bottomless pool of stagnant water.
"What?" Raven's voice was cold and hoarse, full of wariness.
Lynt didn't answer; instead, he asked an unrelated question.
"Raven, what do you think we're like right now?"
"?"
Raven frowned.
"Like two rats hiding in a sewer, waiting to rot and die," Lynt answered for her, his tone flat, yet every word was laced with blood. "Is this the 'freedom' you want? Eating cold pizza, sleeping in a cockroach nest, calculating how many days those crumpled bills in your pocket can last?"
Raven scoffed, her golden pupils filled with contempt: "No money? Then go take it. Banks, vaults, to us, aren't they just open convenience stores?"
"Heh."
Lynt chuckled, his laughter carrying an indescribable mockery.
He didn't get up; he remained seated, looking up at the blue succubus on the bed, yet his gaze was as if he were looking down at a self-important ant.
"Raven, your biggest problem isn't naivety."
"It's stupidity."
"You possess the power of a god, yet all you think about are the schemes of street thugs robbing convenience stores."
He suddenly leaned forward, hands resting on his knees, like a leopard about to pounce, staring intently into Raven's eyes.
The oppressive aura even made Raven's muscles tense up instinctively.
"Every robbery, every appearance, is like shouting through a loudspeaker to the whole world—S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra, your crazy ex-boyfriend Erik—'We're here, come catch us!'"
"You call this freedom? This is fucking suicide!"
"What we need is an absolutely safe sanctuary! Where satellites all over the world can't find us!"
"What we need is the most advanced intelligence network and weapons! Not to wait for Sentinel robots to blast us to smithereens before we even know what the enemy looks like!"
"What we need is an empire... an empire of our own that provides us with all of this!"
This barrage of words, like a red-hot knife, plunged into Raven's heart.
She was completely stunned.
Charles talked to her about ideals, about peaceful coexistence between humans and mutants.
Erik talked to her about hatred, about a bloody future of mutant supremacy.
One treated her like a sister to be protected, the other treated her like his sharpest weapon.
Never before.
Never had anyone, like this man before her, treated her as a... partner in an empire, a queen.
Watching the flicker of shock and confusion in her eyes, Lynt knew the hook was in.
He slowed his speech, his voice lowered, filled with a devilish allure.
"So, money, of course we'll have it. But not by 'taking' it."
In Lynt's eyes, the flame called "ambition" almost burned out.
"Robbing banks? Too low-class, that's for fools and hotheads."
He picked up his phone, the screen light illuminating half his face, confident, yet with a hint of wickedness.
On the screen was a map of New York's underworld, marked with red dots.
His finger landed precisely on the most chaotic, bloodiest, and darkest area.
Hell's Kitchen.
"Raven, your power is God's scepter, a nuclear bomb."
Lynt's tone slithered into her ears like a snake.
"But you, and Erik, always think of using it to crack walnuts, to fight with petty thugs. This is the greatest blasphemy against divine power."
"I want to make you, to make everyone see clearly..."
He paused, his gaze burning, enunciating each word.
"Your power is not meant to break order. It is meant to... set the rules, to become the rules themselves!"
"Your value is to become the... throne, suspended above the heads of all ambitious people!"
Raven fell completely silent.
She stared intently at the man before her.
He still had that body that looked like it could be crushed with a squeeze, yet the aura about him, the composure and dominance with which he treated all of New York as a chessboard to be manipulated at will, was something she had never seen in anyone.