Marvel's Master of Magic

"Swish!"

Manipulating two daggers, George swiftly eliminated the guards and arrived at a fork in the road. Based on his recent understanding and overheard information, the path to the right led to the cafeteria and, beyond that, the room where the mutant children were held. The path to the left led out of the laboratory.

If he went left, with his current abilities, he would likely be able to escape safely and find a car. Once he reached a crowded urban area, he'd be home free. With the mutant children providing a distraction, the number of pursuers would likely be minimal.

"Ah!!!"

Just as he was about to take a step to the left, a pitiful cry echoed from the depths of the right fork. It was a tender, childlike voice. The scream brought George's raised foot back down.

"Ah, it seems I can't be that rational or ruthless after all." After a moment's hesitation, he turned and headed right.

There were fifty mutant children in the entire experimental base, but according to what he'd seen in the movie, fewer than twenty, including X-23 and the wolf girl, had escaped. This meant that over thirty mutant children had died in the escape.

George considered himself neither a good person nor a bad one; he was simply a normal person with average moral standards. Reason told him that in this situation, letting the children draw fire while he quietly escaped was the safest option. But humans aren't machines; how could they be so rational?

If the screams had just been from adults, he'd have been cruel and ignored them, since they had no relatives or friends. But they were pitiful children, after all, and he saw them every day. Even if he'd never spoken to them, he knew them. He had a clear mind: if he could save them, he'd save them. If not, he'd run. His own life was paramount.

"Radi, Ver, Ellie."

In the cafeteria, Gabriela looked at the three children shot after trying to stop the pursuers, tears welling up in her eyes again. After realizing the genetic modification institute's purpose wasn't to develop a cure for cancer but to cultivate mutant killers, she and several equally kindhearted colleagues decided to secretly escape with the children. However, before their plan could even begin, the lab's leadership had already decided to execute the children en masse. This forced them to flee, but even with their mystical abilities, they were no match for the experienced guards wielding cold weapons.

Even after reaching the cafeteria, several of her colleagues were killed while providing cover, and more than a dozen of the fifty children were killed. A true escape would likely result in even more casualties.

"Laura!"

Seeing X-23, the strongest of the children, struggling as his limbs were grasped and pinned in mid-air, Gabriela snatched a submachine gun from the corpse of a nearby guard and addressed the children behind her, "Go to the door. Aunt Isa will take you to your destination."

Isa was the last surviving colleague, primarily responsible for driving a large truck that brought supplies from the city to the base. After receiving their notification, she drove to the door to meet them.

"What about you and Laura?" The slightly older mutant boy in the lead had a worried look on his face. Though they'd lived in the lab and lacked common sense, they weren't fools.

"Rictor, you're the oldest of them. I'm leaving them in your care. Take them to their destination and wait for me there. I'll definitely bring Laura to you," Gabriela instructed the boy gently. Then, wielding her submachine gun, she launched a barrage of fire, hoping to create a chance for the children to escape.

Her marksmanship wasn't great, but the barrage of fire threw the guards restraining the wolf girl into a panic, causing one of her feet to break free. She stabbed the adamantium claw into a guard's eye, temporarily freeing herself. However, it was clear that more guards were approaching from the hallway.

Rictor gritted his teeth and, leading his unrelated brothers and sisters, ran toward the back corridor. They had barely escaped the cafeteria when they were stopped in the hallway by four armed guards.

"Everyone!"

Despite their fear, they mustered their courage, determined to fight the four guards to the death and escape.

"Swish! Swish!"

But before their powers could activate, two guards suddenly collapsed to the ground, blood spurting from their necks. The remaining two spun around, only to be met with two bullets.

"Are you all okay?"

George dispatched four guards and breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at the stunned children in front of him. Thirty-four children were still alive; he'd arrived just in time.

"Number 757!"

Rictor was stunned for a moment upon realizing it was the silent mutant Number 757 who had rescued them, but then he spoke anxiously, "Aunt Gabriela and Laura are still in the cafeteria."

"I've eliminated the guards behind you. Keep running. I'll rescue them."

George gave the order without hesitation, discarding his spent submachine gun and replacing it with the two weapons held by the guards on the ground. He rushed to the cafeteria.

"So brutal?"

As he entered, he saw the wolf girl straddling a guard's neck, blasting his head with bullets, draining his brains out. The sight startled the surrounding guards. But in the end, he was too thin, and was suppressed by the guards who reacted and fired at him. Although he couldn't be killed due to his self-healing ability, he was still shot down from the air and fell back repeatedly.

Gabriela, who was next to him, had run out of bullets and was suppressed behind the cover, so she was of no help at all.

"Fuck!"

At this moment, it was obviously no longer possible to rely on controlling the dagger to kill the enemy. He didn't have the self-healing ability to be fearless of so many guns on the other side. If he couldn't kill the enemy as quickly as possible, what awaited him was a ruthless barrage of fire.

So George set up two submachine guns, attached all his control over magnetism to the bullets in the magazine, and began to fire frantically. However, after being fired, the bullets did not fly according to their original trajectory, but were affected by the magnetism and turned into arcs, shooting as hard as possible at the vital points of the guards. The firing speed of the submachine gun was close to the accuracy of a sniper rifle, and this was his real trump card that dared to come and help.

(End of this chapter)