Marvel’s Master of Heavenly Magic

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“The equipment will be fine and should arrive by tomorrow morning. Based on your diagnosis, how long until recovery?”

Upon hearing Stephen's diagnostic report, George wasn’t particularly disappointed. While it was unfortunate that the Professor couldn't use his powers, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

If the Professor could freely use his abilities and return to being a level-four peak mutant capable of killing most humans on Earth with a brainwave amplifier, their safety would indeed be assured—but there would also be limitations.

In George's view, Professor X was genuinely a good person for all of humanity and mutants. He had prevented the Cuban Missile Crisis, established a school for mutants, and helped lost mutant children find a path forward.

He had even refrained from restricting the freedom of those children as they grew up, ensuring they did not become weapons of murder.

However, George felt that the Professor was overly idealistic, naively believing in the inherent goodness of humanity and always seeking peaceful solutions to the conflicts between mutants and humans.

This idealism could lead to stubbornness when their philosophies clashed. In the future, when faced with critical decisions, who would have the final say—him or Professor X?

Although his current body was a mutant test subject, he didn't subscribe to the ideological divide between mutants and humans. To him, it was simply a matter of distinguishing between allies and enemies.

Allies were united around him; enemies were to be eliminated. It was that straightforward.

He saw no need to draw distinctions, even feeling that the term “mutant” should never have been coined. What did it matter if someone had superpowers? They were still human.

In this world, there were plenty of superpowered humans who never claimed they weren’t human.

Now that the Professor would be healed and his mind restored to normal, he could simply focus on teaching those mutant children, helping them develop their abilities.

George could then entrust future less critical matters to those children as they grew, allowing him to concentrate on magic.

“If your equipment arrives on time, Mr. Logan should be able to eliminate the toxins in about three days. Mr. Charles will take a bit longer, probably close to a month,” Stephen estimated.

George nodded in agreement. “Okay, once you’ve treated the Professor, I’ll fulfill my promise and let you all go back.”

Hearing George’s assurance, Stephen felt a slight sense of relief.

Although he didn’t trust George, he did have some confidence in the Professor's character, shaped by years of exposure to comics. If the Professor truly was like he appeared in the comics—leading the X-Men to save humanity—then he likely wouldn’t harm them.

Three days later, in the treatment room, Wolverine sat up from the medical pod and nimbly jumped down.

At that moment, Wolverine was no longer the white-haired, scarred figure of old age; he had returned to being the muscle-bound peak Wolverine he once was.

In his prime, Wolverine possessed nearly two centuries of fighting experience, an almost indestructible body, and formidable healing abilities. As long as he didn’t encounter something that could specifically counter him, he was nearly impossible to defeat.

Even humanity's most terrifying weapon, the nuclear bomb, couldn’t kill him; he was the nemesis of all firearms.

In comparison, the X-24 clone created by Dr. Rice was on an entirely different level than peak Wolverine.

Not only did X-24 lack Wolverine’s incredible healing abilities, but his mental state was also unstable, let alone his fighting skills; he fought purely on instinct.

Even the young Laura Kinney, as she grew up, could defeat X-24.

“I haven’t felt this way in a long time!”

Wolverine smoothly extended his adamantium claws, letting out an involuntary exclamation.

The hormonal effects on his form had changed; in his previous aging state, he felt mentally like he was in his twilight years, but now that he had recovered, both his body and mind felt young again.

It was like being twenty again—able to pull an all-nighter playing pixel games on a dying computer.

But at forty, even with a top-tier computer and a pile of AAA games, he would lose interest after just an hour of play.

It was also like being twenty when it came to intimacy—where having a night of passion seven times was no problem. At forty, he found himself avoiding it, feeling somewhat helpless.

“Logan, I need you to help me keep an eye on someone.”

Upon seeing Wolverine fully restored to his peak form, George informed him about everything he had been working on and his surveillance plan for Tony.

Wolverine was different from Professor X; he wasn’t as idealistic. When it came to killing, he never hesitated, and in some respects, he and George genuinely saw eye to eye.

“If there's no immediate danger, don't act. Just let me know if anything happens,” George instructed.

“I got it. I won't let our wallets get hurt,” Wolverine replied, lighting a cigar, clearly pleased to take on the task.

He wasn’t going to let the hard-earned peace they had established be destroyed again, so as long as it didn’t cross his bottom line, he was willing to do whatever it took for this family.

“Mr. Logan, do you think it's appropriate for you to smoke here? Should I get you an ashtray?”

Stephen, who was adjusting the instruments, reprimanded Wolverine as he spotted him smoking a cigar in the treatment room.

He wasn’t known for his patience. Having been forcibly brought here, he was already in a sour mood, and while he didn’t dare confront George for the sake of his girlfriend’s safety, he wasn’t so forgiving with others.

“Sorry, Dr. Stephen.”

Wolverine quickly extinguished the lit cigar in his palm.

He had a considerable level of tolerance for the doctor who had healed him, and it was indeed inappropriate to smoke here, especially with the Professor undergoing treatment in another chamber.

Three weeks later, all the toxins in Professor X’s body were completely cleared out. After a complex neurosurgery, his epilepsy symptoms had significantly alleviated, and he would only need to take regular medication to live like a normal elderly man.

Stephen's medical skills were undeniably impressive.

As promised, George sent Stephen and the other doctors back to the city, providing them with a generous reward.

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone about this month's experiences,” Stephen and the other doctors swore together after being dropped off on the rooftop of a building.

During their time there, most of them had developed sympathy for the Professor and those mutant children. Moreover, they had received substantial compensation, so they genuinely intended to keep this matter to themselves.

However, George shook his head. “I’m sorry, but even though I want to trust you, I still need to ensure the children's safety.”

With a wave of his hands, he began quickly casting spells at Stephen and the other doctors.

“Forget all!”

Pledges and promises are often untrustworthy for most people.

He believed that under normal circumstances, these doctors might genuinely keep their word, but what if someone held a gun to their heads—or to their families’ heads? Would they still keep quiet then?

So the safest method was to eliminate them all, but he wasn't the type to have no bottom line. Thus, the forgetting spell was the best choice.

(End of Chapter)