Chapter 23 : X-Men 3?

Soon, word of Wolverine Logan's return spread throughout the school.

Having been involved in World War I, World War II, and numerous mutant rescues, Wolverine had a wide network at the school. Some were his comrades in battle, while others were students he had saved.

However, amidst the excitement of the school's populace, Carl felt a twinge of annoyance. Wolverine's return signaled the onset of the third X-Men battle.

In this third confrontation, the resurrected Jean Grey would claim the lives of Cyclops, Professor X, and neutralize the mutant antidote, sparking internal strife within the school. Meanwhile, Magneto would reappear, rallying mutants for war against humanity.

Most importantly, Carl hadn't fully matured yet and wasn't keen on disrupting the peaceful days so soon. With his ability to gain strength from basking in the sun, he believed a year or two would grant him formidable power in this perilous world. 

Given a decade under the sun's rays, perhaps he'd evolve into a formidable force, rendering threats like Thanos and the Celestial insignificant.

"Hey! I thought we had a few months at least, but it seems time has flown by," Carl lamented.

The girl with headphones lifted her head at his words, asking softly, "Carl, what's bothering you?"

Carl smiled faintly. "It's nothing. Just feels like time is slipping away. I've already been here for half a month."

"Oh."

The girl nodded understandingly, then held up a stack of drawing paper, blinking her beautiful eyes. "Carl, when will you illustrate the backstory?"

Having drawn Son Goku the day before, Carl found himself with idle time that evening. Considering Clarice's fondness for storybooks, he couldn't resist sketching the first chapter of Dragon Ball from memory.

Then Clarice found herself drawn to the charming and powerful Son Goku, while Boomer, who was behind the wheel, searched for the elusive Dragon Ball in that fantastical realm.

Undoubtedly, it was a narrative celebrated across the globe.

At that moment, the two of them had just concluded their meal and were seated on chairs near the playground, allowing their food to settle.

With hopeful eyes fixed on her, Carl pondered for a moment.

"Well, since we have the time, let's head back and sketch some cartoons for you."

Instantly, Clarice's eyes sparkled, a delighted grin lighting up her features as she sweetly replied, "Carl is the best."

Women, they're truly easy to please. Just sketching a comic storyline is enough to win them over. Carl couldn't help but smile, feeling as if he were progressing through a development game, fostering closeness.

His kindness towards Clarice wasn't without motive.

Aside from being intrigued by the spatial abilities she wielded and preparing for future investigations, there was also an interest in her potential as she matured.

While she was still young, nurturing their bond first, so that when she blossomed into a captivating beauty, she wouldn't be able to resist him.

That's when power and wealth align.

Compared to the minor investment in her childhood, the substantial returns were the envy of capitalists.

...

Inside the room, a rustling sound filled the air.

Carl sat at the table, illuminated by the sun streaming in through the window.

His hand swiftly maneuvered a pencil across a sheet of A4 paper, crafting a multi-panel comic at a visible pace.

To call it a drawing, as Carl claimed, would be inaccurate. It was more akin to reproduction based on his memory, eliminating the need for composition or contemplation, simply following the images in his mind.

Undoubtedly, this was aided by his abilities to a certain extent.

For instance, Carl discovered that he could regulate the strength in his hands while drawing.

With his current grip strength of 20 tons, he had to exercise extreme caution to avoid damaging the delicate pencil.

Otherwise, with each mistake made, Carl's strength seemed to grow stronger, almost crushing the pencil in his grasp.

This training regimen played a significant role in Carl's developing control over his growing strength.

As Carl swiftly sketched comic panels one after another, Clarice lounged on the edge of the table, her chin resting in her hands, her eyes gleaming with admiration.

In Clarice's eyes, Carl was simply too formidable.

Not only was he powerful and mentally resilient, but he also possessed a remarkable artistic talent. Just by glimpsing Colossus's portrait, he could effortlessly replicate it.

Moreover, his storytelling prowess was impressive; his rendition of the Dragon Ball story was captivating.

Clarice envied the carefree and adventurous nature of the character Son Goku. If only she could embody Son Goku's spirit, she mused, she could gather plenty of delicious food for Carl...

While Carl sketched cartoons for Clarice, a sense of gravity permeated the atmosphere in a conference room on the ground floor of the school.

Seated at the head of a vast conference table was Professor X.

Flanking him were Cyclops, Storm, Iceman, Rogue Anna, and Shadowcat and Colossus, who had joined the X-Men despite still being students.

At the forefront, Wolverine Logan addressed the purpose of his sudden return.

Just over half a month ago, he stumbled upon a Mutant Institute in neighboring Mexico.

Inside, numerous Mutant children were imprisoned, subjected to various cruel experiments—an outrageous affront to their rights.

However, the institute boasted formidable defenses and stringent security. Despite two attempts, Logan was repelled, unable to rescue the incarcerated Mutants.

Hence, he sought aid upon his return.

****

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