[System task released: Task difficulty level B—gain Wolverine Logan's favor. Reward: 8,000 exchange points.]
The system's timely notification gave Garus a clear objective. Finally, a mutant had appeared. He had almost started to believe mutants didn't exist in this world.
But how was he supposed to approach Logan? If he just walked up to him, would Logan punch him? That was a tough call for Garus, who preferred straightforward tasks. Socializing wasn't exactly his strong suit.
Thinking it through, Garus figured that with Logan's short temper, following him might earn him a beating. He couldn't help but wonder who would come out on top if they fought.
Seeing Logan enter a barbecue restaurant, Garus followed him inside, deciding to observe the situation first.
Logan wandered aimlessly through the city streets. While his memories of 1973's New York City had grown hazy, he was certain this wasn't 1973.
After mulling it over, Logan concluded that, regardless of the year, his priority was to find Professor X and the other mutants. He trusted the wise Professor X to devise a way to prevent the future tragedy from recurring.
Grumble.
Logan's stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in what felt like ages while drifting through that void. He was starving.
Sniffing the air, Logan caught the scent of Mexican barbecue wafting from a nearby restaurant. He stopped, turned, and entered the establishment to fill his stomach first.
"Hey, pal, give me some kebabs, chicken wings, and a bottle of booze."
The aroma of sizzling barbecue and the golden-brown chicken wings made Logan's mouth water. Without concern for appearances, he grabbed a skewer and began wolfing it down. After years in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, he hadn't tasted anything this good in ages; his usual fare was long-lasting frozen food.
Garus, sitting across from Logan, watched as Logan polished off a huge plate of barbecue in mere moments.
Leaning back in his chair, satisfied, Logan let out a belch and waved to the server. "Check, please."
Reaching into his pocket to pay, Logan was embarrassed to realize it was empty. In the chaotic years of societal collapse, money had become worthless, and he no longer carried any.
The server, patiently waiting, glanced at Logan with a look of disdain. "No money, huh? Dining and dashing, are we?"
As the server prepared to call the manager, Garus stepped over and clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder.
"I'll cover it."
"Thanks, pal," Logan said, rising to his feet. "I owe you one."
Logan stepped outside, and Garus quickly followed. "Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Garus."
Logan turned around at the voice, recognizing the young man who had paid for his meal. Though reluctant, he replied, "John Logan. Thanks for the help, but I've got things to do."
"Wait! I need to ask you something."
Seeing Logan dismiss him and start walking away, Garus hurried after him.
"Look, pal, I appreciate the help with the check, but if you keep tailing me, I might have to rough you up," Logan said, leading Garus into an alley. If this guy had bad intentions, Logan thought, he'd knock him out and toss him in the trash.
"Hold up!" Garus shouted, raising his hands as Logan flexed his fists. As much as Garus wanted to test his strength against Logan, now wasn't the time. "You're not some gorgeous woman, and you're flat broke. What could I possibly want from you? I just have a few questions."
Seeing Garus's sincerity, Logan sighed. "Fine. Ask your questions."
"Do you know where Professor X is?"
Garus decided to start by locating the mutant school. Building rapport with Logan could come later. Besides, he'd always been curious about visiting that school.
Hearing the question, Logan's Adamantium claws extended as he eyed Garus warily. "Who are you, and why are you asking about the Professor?"
Garus gathered frost energy in his hands and froze a nearby puddle into solid ice. "I'm a mutant too. A friend of mine told me Professor X founded a school for mutants. I want to study there."
"Who's your friend?"
"Uh…" Garus hesitated, unsure how to answer.
"Never mind," Logan said, retracting his claws. Seeing Garus's mutation, he decided to let it go. "I'm heading back to the school now. Want to come?"
Garus nodded eagerly. "Of course! I've been searching for it for ages."
Logan flagged down a cab, turning to Garus as it pulled up. "You're paying."
"Fine, no problem." Garus decided not to dwell on why Logan didn't have a single cent.
"Westchester," Logan told the driver.
Garus had previously hired Kingpin's men to search Westchester but had found nothing resembling Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Maybe it was hidden with mutant powers, he thought.
After a short drive, they walked through a forest for a while. Suddenly, Logan stopped, a look of disbelief on his face.
"What's wrong?" Garus asked, curious.
"The school should be right here. But why—?"
"Here?" Garus glanced at the dense forest. There wasn't even a shack in sight, let alone a school.
Unwilling to give up, Logan continued searching. "Let's keep looking. I haven't been here in years; maybe I got turned around."
The two wandered through the forest until dusk but found no trace of the school.
"Logan, are you sure the school's here?" Garus asked, skeptical.
"It has to be," Logan replied, his confusion deepening. Then he paused and asked, "What year is it?"
Garus gave him a baffled look. "2009. What, did an Adamantium bullet mess up your memory again?"
Logan fell silent, clearly lost in thought. Garus offered, "It's late. Why don't you crash at my place tonight? We can figure this out tomorrow."
Logan nodded. "Fine."
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