Chapter 106: The Bewildering Fate of Strange
What a wretched world.
Strange had no idea how many times he had cursed those words.
Logically, as a first-rate neurosurgeon, while he wouldn't dare claim to be the world's best, he was certain to be treated with courtesy by major hospitals wherever he went.
Money, status, reputation, prospects—he lacked none of these. No hospital would refuse an outstanding doctor of his caliber; they would all fawn over him.
Especially in recent years, the world had changed too quickly. The old worldview in the eyes of ordinary people had been shattered to pieces. Even things like gods had appeared before the world.
Normally, Strange would have only gained more, because the more chaotic the world, the more injured there were, and the more people would come to him for help.
But gradually, Strange discovered that although his workload had increased, his mood was worsening by the day.
"I heard that if your nerves are damaged, you can be cured just by being parasitized by a Xenomorph?"
Listen to that. Another idiotic patient had posed this question to him.
Sometimes, Strange really wanted to take a scalpel and pry open these patients' skulls to see how their brains operated.
Though he was a neurosurgeon, not a brain specialist, he could still examine the brain's neural pathways.
If these people had a choice, wouldn't they want to obtain a Xenomorph's super self-healing ability? They did. But the influential dignitaries feared the consequence of being completely controlled by Du Wa, even as they craved a long, healthy life free of side effects.
They were hesitant and indecisive, wanting all the benefits without bearing any of the risks.
Strange was truly fed up with this group of people, and fed up with people praising the Xenomorphs in front of him.
As far as he knew, some doctors had already begun writing academic papers, extensively discussing combining new-era medical techniques with Xenomorphs. It seemed as if trying to associate everything with Xenomorphs had become the key to wealth, on the verge of becoming politically correct.
After all, no matter the illness, once parasitized by a Xenomorph, all problems seemed to be solved. One could even become a superhuman. A strong body, a skyrocketing lifespan, and most importantly, a sense of security—this combination deeply attracted too many self-important individuals.
But the more the Xenomorphs gave off the impression of being a panacea, where did that leave highly skilled doctors like him?
After work, Strange drove his sports car, deciding to return to his villa.
He was always suppressing his rage.
"Stephen, you should rein in your temper. Have you noticed? People have been reluctant to associate with you lately."
In the passenger seat, Strange's girlfriend, Christine, tried to persuade him.
"Enough. I don't want to hear anyone persuading me to reconcile with those idiots. I've never done anything wrong," Strange interrupted rudely.
But Christine just looked at his side profile seriously. "Have you really done nothing wrong? Like that vampire you're keeping at home? Don't tell me you don't know that the Xenomorphs have nearly wiped out the vampires."
"Damn it, he's different, he's my brother! I don't care if he's the Baron Blood others talk about; he's just my brother, and that's it! With my wealth, providing him a place to live and regularly buying some human blood to feed him isn't a problem. I guarantee he won't hurt anyone!"
Strange was incredibly agitated. "I use my money to buy human blood, paying a high price to help sellers with their financial problems. All they have to give me is some of their blood. Besides, who the hell knows which volunteer their blood came from? What have I done wrong?"
Christine said in a low voice, "In the world before, you would've done nothing wrong. Your brother is also a very kind person, and I believe he could control himself well... But things are different now. You have to deal more with Xenomorphs or other superhumans. How long can you keep him hidden? Do you really think you can hide him forever?"
There were quite a few Xenomorphs around the globe, and there would only be more in the future. It was even possible that one day their numbers would reach tens of millions, or even a hundred million, truly filling the streets, all depending on whether Du Wa wanted to make it happen.
At that time, the entire Earth would have no secrets from Du Wa. A vampire living in hiding would not be able to escape his notice.
Who in the world didn't know that Du Wa had an unusual preference for vampires? Du Wa would eagerly seize anything related to them.
When that time comes, Strange, who stubbornly shelters a vampire—and a special one at that—will not meet a good end.
The Xenomorphs were, after all, a ferocious race. Even though experts were already studying Xenomorph language courses for humans to learn, one couldn't expect anyone to truly have a friendly conversation with a Xenomorph, let alone reach any sort of consensus.
"I remember you mentioned rejecting Bruce Banner's invitation a while ago. You push away things beyond your control, yet you're confident you can protect your brother on your own? Vampires can live for many years. Can you?"
"Then what do you suggest I do? Push my brother out and let him be captured by the wandering Xenomorphs? And then, before long, have a Xenomorph run up to me and tell me in a strange language that it's my brother?"
"If you want to protect him for his entire life, you need to have an equally long life. And the easiest way to obtain a long life is to join the Xenomorphs and become one of them—we both know you can't afford the ALIEN Potion; that's something only billionaires can afford for long-term use. So we're back to where we started. Maybe we can find a way to let your brother become a Xenomorph—the non-chestbursting kind."
Christine tried her best to come up with ideas for Strange. She had no choice; her boyfriend's brother was a vampire, after all. If he were a mutant or from any other race, it wouldn't be such a headache for them.
The couple argued fiercely, but in this era dominated by Xenomorphs, they could never come up with a perfect plan.
Strange drove his sports car at high speed along the winding mountain road.
Suddenly, Strange felt his mind go blank for a moment. His eyes then widened as he saw a car suddenly rush out in front of him, as if it had appeared out of thin air. He instinctively wrenched the steering wheel.
The out-of-control vehicle plunged off the cliff, getting stuck on a massive rock after tumbling at high speed.
"Christine..."
Strange felt excruciating pain all over his body, but he couldn't be bothered with it. He subconsciously reached out to the side, and as his gaze shifted, he froze completely.
Christine's head was covered in blood. His beautiful girlfriend was now like a person made of blood, her life force gone. It was a blessing that her body was still intact.
"No, this can't be happening. Why did this happen? How did that damned car suddenly appear?"
Faced with such a disaster, Strange's mind raced with chaotic thoughts. His subconscious knew that if he stopped, the cruel reality would make him collapse.
Despite how dismissive the conceited Strange appeared to be toward Christine, it didn't conflict with the fact that he loved her.
Strange gasped for breath. After a quick ten-second check, he stared blankly at the corpse before him, feeling like he wanted to die.
Even more ironically, Strange's hands remained on the steering wheel, completely unscathed except for some bloodstains.
As a doctor, for his hands to be perfectly fine after such a severe car crash made Strange want to pass out right there, hoping this was all a dream and that he would wake up to a gentle breeze and sunlight.
Gradually, a thick fog began to rise on the cliff.
From his stiff and dazed perspective, Strange saw a tall, elderly man slowly walking toward him.
This old man walked through the mist as if on flat ground, yet the actual space he occupied should have been a steep slope.
This scene, which violated the laws of physics, caused Strange's nearly shattered mind to stir slightly.
"Stephen Strange, you unfortunate, pitiful man. You've encountered difficulties. Your immense grief is truly heartbreaking."
The old man, wearing a top hat and holding a gentleman's cane, walked up to Strange.
"Help me, I beg you, please help me save her!" Strange opened his mouth, and this was the first thing he said. He didn't even have the presence of mind to be surprised he could speak so smoothly.
Mephisto took off his hat. "I have witnessed the misfortune of too many, and I have seen too many who would do anything to reclaim their happiness. So, Mr. Stephen Strange, what price are you willing to pay to save the woman beside you? There is no such thing as a one-sided bargain in this world."
"I don't care who you are! As long as you can save her, I can give you my all! What do you want, money? I have a lot of money! Or do you need me to treat an illness for you? I am the best doctor in Philadelphia!" Strange's speech grew faster and faster, like a small bird diligently displaying its beautiful feathers.
As he spoke, a bit of his scattered rationality returned. He looked at the being before him with hope in his eyes, wishing that this person, or whatever it was, could bring Christine back.
A drowning man, even if he senses something is wrong, will instinctively grab onto anything. Even if this desperate act might kill the person trying to save him, the drowning man won't care. Neither would Strange.
"Since you have decided, then we can begin the bargain."
Mephisto revealed a delighted smile.
Make no mistake, this was exactly the kind of bastard he was: artificially creating tragedy, finding vulnerabilities, and luring humans into a bargain, only to take their souls and reclaim the very things he had previously promised.
Mephisto admired Strange's miserable state. *Look at this pitiful human. Even if in many universes this fellow becomes the great Sorcerer Supreme, and can even imprison my avatar in a few of them, what use is that?*
In the end, he was just a pitiful native in the Multiverse. A lucky victory could in no way change his own fate.
Even one of the future Sorcerer Supremes had to bow his head and accept a gift from a demon.
Originally, according to Mephisto's modus operandi, he would not take the initiative to act against a key figure in the universe like Strange, unless that person sought him out and voluntarily offered his soul for help.
But he couldn't be bothered with that now. This godforsaken universe was peculiar enough to make Mephisto willing to take some rash actions.
"How interesting. The Time Node in this universe is you getting into a car crash, not you losing your hands," Mephisto thought, looking at Strange.
A Time Node is an event on a universe's complex timeline that absolutely cannot be changed. It is one of the key supports that constitute a universe's stable timeline.
Forcibly correcting a Time Node would only lead to the collapse of the entire universe's timeline. In severe cases, it could even muddle causality, thereby destroying existence itself and causing the entire universe to self-destruct.
Therefore, even those with the ability of time travel and reality-warping would not touch a Time Node unless absolutely necessary—unless they intended to destroy the entire universe from the very beginning.
"I do not need your money, nor do I need your medical skills. I need your loyalty and your soul. In return, I will perfectly resurrect your lover and send her back to your side," Mephisto said.
He extended his hand to Strange. Naturally, Strange was about to grasp it tightly. All rational thought could wait until after Christine was saved.
All of this happened in just a few dozen seconds, a short time that was enough for certain people to make a targeted move.
"Crude technique. I originally thought you would use a more sophisticated method, but I didn't expect you to be in such a hurry. It seems the souls of the Xenomorphs are very much to your taste?"
A teleportation portal suddenly opened. Under Mordo's spell, Du Wa arrived quickly, standing before Mephisto.
His feet were planted on the slope, his figure as steady as a mountain, completely unaffected by the thick fog.
Mephisto's face was expressionless. "You shouldn't have come, young man. No native who gets involved with a Time Node meets a good end. Of course, you probably have no idea what I'm talking about."
"It's because I understand that I find your actions boring." Du Wa looked at the well-dressed great demon and shook his head.
He had no need to fear Mephisto. It was the same old story: if Mephisto's true form were here, Du Wa might have to gather his strength for a fight.
But one of Mephisto's avatars? No matter how many came, Du Wa was fairly confident he could handle them.
"Coming to my universe and meddling in its affairs without my consent… you truly deserve to die," Du Wa said.
Mephisto wasn't the least bit angry. Just as he wouldn't easily get angry with the likes of Odin or the Ancient One, he naturally wouldn't get worked up over the offense from Du Wa, who was in the Skyfather-tier.
A Skyfather-level native was already enough to warrant Mephisto's attention, not to mention a peculiar being like the leader of the Xenomorph species.
"Du Wa! You're Du Wa, right? I've seen you on TV, please save her! I don't understand what you're doing, but no matter what, please save her first!" Strange didn't recognize Mephisto, but he certainly recognized Du Wa. His mind roaring as if he'd gone mad, he stuck his head out of the deformed car door and shouted.
"I will. But speaking of which..."
Du Wa looked at Strange. He had anticipated many possibilities, even considering the outcome that this universe's Doctor Strange would lose his girlfriend in the car crash instead of his hands.
He had prepared himself to face a Black Strange, but it turned out not to be the case. Coupled with Mephisto's interference, this Doctor Strange's fate had become bewildering.
(end of chapter)