Morin returned to the ship.
"Boss, did you get the stuff?" Jack asked.
"Where do we go now?"
"We're going to catch... to see what mermaids look like," Morin said, casual as ever.
Morin wasn't in a hurry to get the Trident of Poseidon or follow Tia Dalma to the end of the world to look for some so-called "evidence."
Whether that evidence was real or just another trap didn't matter.
Even if it was real, there was no chance he was checking it out right now.
His current strength was more than enough to survive and dominate an ordinary world.
But once gods were involved, that certainty disappeared.
His strongest assets, aside from the Darkin Blade Aatrox mecha, were a few nuclear bombs.
And even those didn't feel reliable against "gods."
Morin never forgot his core principle.
Caution came first.
So he decided to take his time.
He wasn't in a rush anyway.
During this period, he could study magic and travel to other worlds to strengthen himself.
"It's the same as before," Morin told Jack. "No food. Don't disturb me. Just keep sailing. I'll show up when we arrive."
After that, he went straight into the captain's cabin.
The door closed.
In the next instant, he vanished.
Far away, Tia Dalma stared into her crystal ball.
Then she slammed it onto the ground.
"He disappeared again... What kind of trick is this?!"
When Morin reappeared, it wasn't the Resident Evil world, nor any world he had visited before.
It was that familiar sea of stars.
"It's time to open a new world," Morin thought, using one of his interworld travel chances.
The stars seemed to churn.
A moment later, one of them fell toward him, its light swallowing his body.
[World selected - X-Men world]
[Please choose - a new profession]
[Please choose - the time of travel]
[Please choose - the location of travel]
"X-Men, huh." Morin raised an eyebrow and looked at the profession interface.
The good news was that he finally had the authority to choose the time and location.
The bad news was just as clear.
The X-Men world was deep water.
"Profession selection: politician, soldier, teacher..."
Morin thought briefly, then chose teacher without hesitation.
All three made money easily.
But being a teacher clearly offered more opportunities.
Most importantly, there was Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
Teaching mutants who had talent but no control, collecting a salary on the side-
That wasn't asking for much.
"Choose travel time..."
Morin considered it carefully.
"X-Men: First Class. The moment when CIA agent Moira MacTaggert finds Charles Francis Xavier. The pub."
The world spun.
When Morin opened his eyes again, he was standing inside a bar.
He immediately spotted the man with thick hair, not bald, not yet powerful.
Charles.
Right now, he was still weak.
Compared to the version who could project his consciousness across the planet and control everyone's thoughts, this Charles was insignificant.
Even later on, with Cerebro, Charles could still do it alone.
It just took more effort.
"Congratulations, Professor."
A woman's voice drew Morin's attention.
It was Moira MacTaggert.
Despite her masculine-sounding name, she was undeniably beautiful.
"Thank you very much," Charles replied. "It was harder than it looks..."
He swirled the large beer glass in his hand.
Celebrating his appointment, he had already finished several drinks and was visibly tipsy.
At this point, Charles was still a rich, confident young man.
Mutants weren't known to the public yet, and he didn't understand the origin of his own abilities.
That was why he obsessed over genetics.
Because of Raven, he knew there had to be others like him.
"No," Moira smiled. "I meant your speech."
"Oh? You listened?" Charles perked up.
Morin walked to the bar. "A glass of rum."
As he listened to their conversation, he checked the bonuses from his teacher profession.
[Teacher - Entry Level
Title Bonuses:
[Wisdom] +10 (Nothing much to say, not going to pad it out)
[Body] +10 (Physical punishment is wrong... but you can't be weaker than your students)
[Magic] +10 (Why add this? Good question. I don't know either)
[Entry Level Teaching Skills]
[Entry Level Subject Knowledge]
[Entry Level Teleportation Skill]
Note: You are the worst class I've ever taught!]
Morin froze.
"..."
These bonuses were absurd.
All three core attributes increased, plus extra skills.
Teleportation was the least impressive.
He could already do the same by spending experience points.
Its only real value was saving experience and using mana instead.
Subject Knowledge came next.
"Knows everything about the world" was obviously a broad description.
From the explanation, Morin understood.
As long as he had a student, he would gain knowledge related to what that student knew.
The depth depended on skill level.
And finally, Teaching Skills.
The exact function wasn't clear.
But he had a guess.
If teaching someone meant gaining something...
Then teaching a mutant to use their ability would let him gain that ability?
If he taught enough mutants-
Wouldn't he become like Legion?
No.
He wasn't letting Charles take all the credit.
Legion was Charles's son.
While thinking this through, Morin kept listening.
"Can we talk privately?" Moira asked.
"Of course," Charles smiled. "For a beautiful mutated Mcr-1 gene, I can spare five minutes."
He lightly twirled a lock of her hair.
Academic showboating.
Effective, though.
"The Mcr-1 gene," Charles added, resting a hand on her shoulder, "is what you'd call blonde hair."
Whether it was drunken boldness or his normal personality was hard to tell.
"It's a mutation. A wonderful one."
They sat down at an empty table.
"Mutation is what drove evolution," Charles continued. "From single-celled organisms to dominant humans-"
"I'm sorry," Moira cut in calmly. "That may work on female students. I'm here on business."
She had seen enough men like him.
Normally, she wouldn't mind something happening.
Young, rich, handsome, and newly appointed professor-Charles wasn't easy to refuse.
But now wasn't the time.
Earlier, Moira had infiltrated the Hellfire Club.
She had met Sebastian Shaw-the Black King-along with the White Queen, the Red Devil, and others.
She had also overheard Colonel Hendry discussing missile deployments in Turkey and Italy.
And the Soviet response in Cuba.
The Cuban Missile Crisis.
If that escalated, humanity might not survive.
A nuclear war wouldn't stop once it began.
Seeing mutants with her own eyes had shaken her.
That was why she found Charles.
A genetics expert.
A newly appointed professor.
Someone credible.
"What?" Charles frowned.
"I need your help," Moira said earnestly.
"...What did you say?" His mind was still foggy.
"In your paper, you mentioned this kind of mutation," she said. "I need to know if it's real."
Charles's pupils contracted.
The alcohol haze vanished.
"Do mutants truly exist?" Moira asked quietly.
"..."
Charles raised two fingers to his temple.
It looked like a thinking habit.
It wasn't.
It was the beginning of telepathy.
He wasn't practiced, so he needed preparation.
Later on, he wouldn't.
No warm-up. No foreplay.
That thought felt off.
Still, he used his ability.
The White Queen's diamond form.
The Red Devil.
The Black King.
Everything Moira had seen unfolded in his mind.
"...Professor?" Moira asked when he went silent.
She sighed, assuming he was just drunk.
"Maybe we should talk tomorrow? Are you free?"
"I think you already have your answer," Charles said, lowering his hand.
"This matters to me as well. I'll help however I can."
"Thank you." Moira smiled in relief.
To avoid suspicion, she had worn a bikini and posed as a showgirl.
She couldn't bring cameras or recordings.
No evidence.
She needed someone authoritative.
Someone who could prove it.
"Come with me."
"Where?" Charles asked.
"CIA headquarters," Moira said firmly. "This involves national security. Time is critical."
"Alright. But I need to bring my sister. I don't want to leave Raven alone."
"...Fine."
"Raven," Charles called, explaining quickly.
The three prepared to leave.
"Wait."
Morin set down his glass.
It was his turn.
He walked over, smiling brightly.
"So you're here, Charles. Long time no see. I heard you became a professor."
"Uh... who are you?" Charles replied politely, confused.
"I'm your best friend," Morin said, equally awkward.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think I know you."
"I don't know you either," Raven said flatly, stepping closer to Charles.
Morin was more handsome.
That didn't matter.
"Who are you?"
"We have an emergency," Moira frowned, moving to intervene.
"But I really am your good friend," Morin insisted, wounded. "We're very close."
"I even have pictures."
"Pictures?" Charles blinked.
"Of course."
Morin pulled several photos from his pocket.
"Look."
It was pure coincidence.
Charles's actor was also the star of Wanted.
Morin had taken a photo with Wesley.
And now, finally-
It was useful.
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