The Wolf Returns Home

Chapter 1 The Wolf Returns Home

The night sky was as black as ink, and the flashing neon lights of the nightclubs illuminated the most bustling street in the entire town with a kaleidoscope of colors.

The streets were bustling with traffic, but the most eye-catching vehicle was a black Chrysler parked in front of the nightclub.

"Sir, please take care and remember to give Uber a five-star review."

Logan Howlett watched his guests enter the nightclub before closing the car door, smoothing out his cheap suit, getting back into the car, and driving away.

The car drove through bustling streets, out of the small town, and sped along the barren highway.

As night deepened, the roads outside the city were sparsely populated and somewhat deserted.

The wind that blew in from time to time stirred up the yellow dust, covering the already not-so-clean vehicles with another layer of dust.

Ding Dong!

My phone screen suddenly lit up; a text message had come in.

Caliban: The professor's medicine is almost gone.

Logan drove with one hand on the wheel, looking at the text message, and sighed helplessly.

"I'll figure something out."

He typed his reply with one hand, his face showing utter exhaustion.

The professor's medication is running out. Without the medication to suppress the symptoms, if he were to have an attack, it would be an unimaginable disaster.

Logan put down his phone and patted his pocket.

"Sigh~"

His empty wallet made him let out a long, helpless sigh.

How long have you been here since you traveled through time?

He could hardly remember anything, and even his previous memories had gradually faded with the passage of time.

He only remembered that he wasn't originally named Howlett, but Luo, an ordinary person living in China.

At the time, "Logan" was showing in theaters, and as a fan of X-Men, he also contributed a ticket to the film, witnessing the tragic life of the aging Wolverine in the cinema.

Unexpectedly, after waking up, he found himself transported to the X-Men universe and became Logan Howlett.

At the beginning of the time travel, Professor X's tragedy in Westchester had not yet occurred, and mutants had not yet faced extinction.

Logan tried his best to prevent the tragedy from happening, but to no avail.

Even though he knew some of the events in advance and tried his best to prevent Professor X from losing control unexpectedly.

But in the end, it was impossible to do so.

Professor X's loss of control in Westchester resulted in the deaths of hundreds of people.

This incident shocked the nation, and people's fear of mutants deepened to an extreme.

The government, which was already wary of mutants, took the opportunity to impose mandatory control on mutants and developed drugs to treat genetic defects, making mutants unable to reproduce, in an attempt to completely eradicate the existence of mutants.

Logan, who traveled from another time, was powerless to reverse the situation; it seemed that the tragedy that Wolverine had suffered in his later years was about to repeat itself...

Logan looked at himself in the rearview mirror.

His face, gradually etched with weariness, was covered with a thick, unkempt beard that grew wildly like steel needles, and his messy hair had already turned somewhat gray at the temples.

The old hands gripping the steering wheel looked like tree bark.

Logan looked at these things with a complicated expression.

drop by drop...

The instrument panel suddenly issued a warning, and the nearly empty fuel tank reflected a scarlet light.

"Damn it!"

Logan slammed his fist on the steering wheel in frustration.

Years of fleeing and the successive departures of his relatives and friends filled him with anxiety and restlessness, and he would often become agitated over trivial matters.

Fortunately, there are many motels in this desert. These motels, which combine hotels, restaurants, and gas stations, are very common in San Antonio.

Logan has lived in Texas for many years and is a frequent visitor there.

He drove to the front of a hotel with its sign lit up, turned off the engine, got out of the car, and easily pushed open the door to enter.

"James, it's been two days since I've seen you."

Uncle Kru, the receptionist, put down the cleaned wine glass, reached out and greeted Logan with a smile.

James is another name for Logan.

After all, Logan Howlett's name had been on the wanted list for a long time.

For a fugitive who needs to live in anonymity, it is obviously inappropriate to reveal his real name to the public.

"Haven't seen me for two days, have you become so lustful?"

Logan tossed his car keys to the clerk next to him, telling him to fill up his car with gas, while he sat down at the counter. "The usual, a bottle of wine."

Life was full of troubles, so he often had to resort to alcohol to numb the mess of worries in his heart.

Alcohol gradually became an indispensable spiritual pillar in his life.

"Drunk driving is not a good thing."

Klu laughed and joked, but still turned around and took a bottle of wine from the wine rack and handed it over.

Logan took the drink but wasn't in a hurry to drink it; the image of the drink's spokesperson on the bottle caught his eye.

The tight-fitting battle suit with its blue, red, and white stripes perfectly outlined the mascot's muscular physique. He held a vibranium shield in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other, his face beaming with a smile.

"The new spokesperson, Captain America."

Kru followed Logan's gaze and chuckled as he offered a gentle reminder.

"I thought he would be a prohibition ambassador."

Logan bit open the bottle, responding with a cold laugh, the aroma of the liquor filling his nostrils.

It was quite some time after he traveled here that Logan realized that the universe he was in had some subtle differences from the X-Men universe he had seen in the movies.

This is not simply a new X-Men timeline, but a timeline that also includes the Avengers.

It's 2012 now, which is exactly the time when the Avengers were rising to power.

Unfortunately, the Avengers didn't exist during the X-Men's golden age, so the two groups never crossed paths.

Ironically, people only recognize the Avengers; the streets are filled with Avengers posters and news programs.

But no one knows that the X-Men have also shed blood for this country and this land, and even to save the world.

Through deliberate propaganda by the government, mutants have gradually become perceived as a group of unstable factors that threaten social security.

"It's hard to say. Captain Rogers is a former soldier. You know, back in their day, alcohol was an indispensable resource on the battlefield."

Kru shrugged and offered an explanation.

Captain America is a product of World War II. In that era, alcohol became the best choice to make soldiers fearless and charge into battle.

Logan didn't say anything. Look, people only know Captain America, but they don't know that Wolverine survived the atomic bombings during World War II.

He shook his head and sighed, then tilted his head back and gulped down a mouthful of wine.

The fiery liquor slid down my throat, as if the day's fatigue had vanished. The alcohol that surged into my mind slightly awakened my exhausted body.

Before long, most of the bottle of wine was gone.

boom--

A gunshot rang out abruptly, its piercing sound particularly loud in the silent wilderness.

"grass!"

Kru was startled, and the glass he was wiping fell onto the bar, but he didn't care and looked up sharply towards the door.

"Damn it, what's going on!"

Logan suddenly remembered that his car was still outside and the gas station attendant hadn't returned yet.

He immediately sensed something was wrong and quickly turned around to go outside to check.

San Antonio is not a good place.

Every year, countless Mexicans and illegal immigrants flock to Texas, with many choosing San Antonio.

These undocumented, jobless individuals have turned San Antonio into a chaotic mess, while the incompetent police officers who only draw taxpayers' money are few and far between, further emboldening criminals and leading to rampant crime.

Armed robbery at night has become one of the few means of survival for Mexicans and desperate illegal immigrants.

It's no longer unusual to find several unclaimed bodies in the wilderness every day.

"Kid, hand over the keys, now!"

Five Mexican men surrounded the black Chrysler, their dark skin blending almost seamlessly into the vast wilderness.

One of them held a steaming pistol, pointed it at the terrified clerk, and threatened him to hand over the keys.

"Hey buddy, that Chrysler can't fit five people, and it's not worth much."

Logan cursed as he stepped outside and strode forward.

Kru, following closely behind, looked flustered and warned, "James, be careful!"

He knew that these Mexicans were all outlaws who frequently did shady things in this wilderness, and that many people had already died at their hands; they were a group of ruthless killers.

"Old man, is this your car?"

The Mexicans shifted their attention to Logan.

The man with the gun pointed it at Logan without hesitation, his eyes full of contempt.

Clearly, they didn't take this old man, who looked to be over fifty and reeked of alcohol, seriously.

"certainly."

Logan's eyes were a little blurry; the alcohol had inappropriately taken over his mind, but fortunately, he was still relatively conscious.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out five hundred dollars, and handed it over. "Take this and leave. No one will call the police, and no one will get hurt."

Years of life on the run had washed away much of the violence in his heart, and he didn't want to cause trouble at this critical juncture.

The Mexicans' eyes lit up even more when they saw money.

But clearly, their greed didn't stop there. The Mexican man with the gun even chuckled and said, "Old man, kill you, and the car and the money are all ours."

They committed numerous crimes, and at least seven or eight people have died at their hands. They wouldn't mind taking another life.

Moreover, the police were too lazy to investigate the multiple corpses of old men lying exposed in the wilderness.

The Mexicans' reaction immediately made Kru's heart tighten. "James!"

His voice had barely faded when a gunshot rang out.

boom!

The piercing sound echoed across the wilderness.

The Mexican man with the gun had already arrogantly pulled the trigger, his expression still mocking; the life of an old man was clearly of no importance to him.

"Oh shit!"

Logan cursed, and almost instinctively twisted his head to the left.

The whistling bullet, carrying scorching heat, grazed past my ear and struck the wall of the hotel behind me, leaving a steaming black bullet hole.

For a moment, the surroundings fell completely silent, and everyone stared at Logan in disbelief.

The Mexicans looked at Logan, who was turning his head away, and then at the pistol in his hand, which was steaming from the muzzle. They felt as if their heads were about to explode.

He actually dodged the bullets!

Their initial sense of complacency gradually dissipated, and as they looked at Logan, who was beginning to show signs of anger, a nameless fear began to grow in the hearts of the five of them.

Kru was also stunned, staring incredulously at Logan's retreating figure.

He always thought James was just an alcoholic chauffeur.

But now, this guy's identity is clearly not simple!

"Since you don't want to talk things out properly, then let's try another way!"

Logan's gaze was gloomy, and he clenched his fist with gritted teeth, gradually tearing three small cuts between his knuckles, as if something was about to burst out.

(End of this chapter)