The two sat in a cab that stopped in front of a villa in Hell's Kitchen.
Before his journey to this world, Garus had always dreamed of owning a car, but his lack of money made it impossible. In Azeroth, there were vehicles, but the tastes of goblins and gnomes were far from his liking.
The thought of riding in a car that belched thick smoke and shook so violently it might disassemble one's body was terrifying.
Now, in the Marvel universe, Garus decided that he absolutely needed to buy the sleekest sports car he could find. With Kingpin's wealth essentially at his disposal, he figured he might not measure up to Tony Stark, but he'd certainly make a name for himself in New York City.
Logan suddenly came to a halt. "Garus, it seems your home is being watched."
Garus was momentarily stunned. At that moment, the gargoyle sentinels he had stationed in his yard relayed information—three groups had tried to enter the villa during the day but had retreated after stepping into the yard.
Fortunately, he had set up sentinels in advance. Otherwise, his house might have been ransacked.
Looking around, he noticed there were indeed people surveilling him.
To his left, in the garden of a neighboring villa, someone was hiding with a monocular aimed in his direction. The glare from the lens was so obvious it was practically blinding.
Across the street, in another villa, someone pretended to enjoy the view, though there was little to see in the pitch-black night.
These weren't S.H.I.E.L.D. agents—they were far too unprofessional for that. So who could they be?
"Don't worry about it. They might just have peculiar hobbies," Garus said nonchalantly as he unlocked the door and walked inside.
"Alright." Seeing Garus's indifference, Logan said no more.
"Director," Agent Hill reported while watching the surveillance feed. "A stranger has entered the target's house. We found no information about him in our database. Should we have someone follow them tomorrow?"
"No need," Fury replied. He was concerned that a tail might alert the target. Earlier in the day, their agents had tried to break into Garus's house, only to have the bat-like statues in the yard spring to life and attack. The agents were so startled they retreated in disarray.
Later, both Advanced Idea Mechanics operatives and military personnel attempted to breach the property, encountering the same phenomenon.
In the end, Fury ordered surveillance equipment to be installed outside the villa.
"What about the AIM and military surveillance teams? Should we intervene? I'm worried they might complicate things," Hill asked.
"Leave them be. Garus has noticed them but doesn't seem to care," Fury said after a moment's thought. "Return to base for now. Tomorrow, send someone to make contact with him. Avoid conflict if possible."
"Yes, Director."
"Logan, pick any room upstairs," Garus said casually. He didn't mind Logan noticing anything peculiar about his home; the runes would likely be incomprehensible to him anyway.
Logan gave Garus a look. They had only met today, yet Garus was unusually hospitable—just to get into the mutant school?
It didn't add up, but Logan decided not to dwell on it.
After washing off the grime and changing into clean clothes, Logan felt his mood lighten.
"Logan, what are your plans? Will you keep searching for the school?" Garus asked, eyeing Logan's impressive physique with a hint of envy.
Logan was equally unsure. In 2009, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters should have been in Westchester.
"Got any cigars?"
Garus shook his head. "I don't smoke."
Disappointed, Logan stood. "I'll leave tomorrow to look for other mutants. As for the school you're searching for, sorry—I might not be able to help."
Frustrated, Logan wasn't sure what to do if he couldn't find Professor X. Was he supposed to let the future be destroyed?
"Logan, do you know where any mutants are? I've been here a while but haven't found a single one."
Logan froze. That was true. Mutants were scarce in this world, and most went to great lengths to conceal themselves, making it nearly impossible to find them in a sea of ordinary people.
Lost in thought, he silently retreated to his room.
Garus watched him go but said nothing.
The next morning, Garus came downstairs to find Logan already awake, watching the news.
Yesterday's events left Garus wondering if Logan truly belonged to this world. Cross-dimensional travel wasn't uncommon in the Marvel universe. Reed Richards had even built a machine capable of traversing parallel dimensions in the zombie Marvel universe.
"Hey, Logan. Want to grab breakfast?"
Logan nodded and stood.
Garus had grown fond of a certain restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. Though the food wasn't entirely authentic, it reminded him of home.
The journey there was slightly longer than usual, taking them through an area of low, decrepit houses—a haven for New York's poor and one of its most chaotic districts.
"Monster! Monster! Stay away! Stop clinging to me!"
"But Mom, he's my brother! Please don't send him away!"
The desperate pleas of a young girl reached their ears.
Garus and Logan exchanged glances before turning toward the source of the commotion.
In front of a dilapidated building, a stout woman was forcefully shoving away a small figure at her feet, while a little girl in her arms struggled desperately.
"Elena, that's not your brother! He's a monster!"
"Alright, ma'am, here's your check. Take it and let's move along—we're in a hurry," said one of two men in suits standing nearby.
"Thank you, thank you," the woman said, her face splitting into a grotesque smile as she took the check.
Suddenly, the girl bit down hard on her mother's hand.
"Ow!" The woman cried out in pain, letting go.
The girl fell to the ground but ignored the pain and lunged toward her brother, who was being held by the suited men.
Logan opened his mouth to shout but stopped short at the sound of a suppressed gunshot. The woman slumped lifelessly to the ground.
The sight left the two children screaming in terror.
"What about the girl?" the gunman asked, hesitation in his voice. "I don't think I can do it."
"Hey, you two!"
Logan, worried they might harm the girl, called out to them.
The men turned, spotting a stranger. Without hesitation, one raised his gun and fired.
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