Marvel Saiyans - Chapter 11

In a CIA safe house in Mexico City, Alejandro is tending to Isabel’s wounds with a medical kit. They might look like a father and daughter to an outsider, except Isabel’s fear is apparent, her face pale and teeth chattering uncontrollably, disrupting the otherwise tender scene.

“Please… let me go… My father will meet any demands,” Isabel pleads, her voice trembling with fear.

Alejandro continues to treat her wounds with alcohol and bandages, his expression unreadable, treating the vulnerable girl as if she were a stranger.

Broly leans against the wall, observing Isabel. Whether in his past or present life, he has never had any sympathy for drug dealers.

“Aren’t you going to kill her?” he asks.

Startled like a frightened deer, Isabel jumps up and looks pleadingly at Alejandro.

“Ha ha! She thinks you’re her lifeline!” Broly laughs loudly.

Alejandro’s expression remains unchanged.

“She’s still useful. Now is not the time to kill her.”

This statement completely breaks Isabel.

…

…

Carlos Reyes is in a state of fear and anger. His men found a video on a bystander’s phone at the scene of the kidnapping. Although blurry, it shows the abductor’s extraordinary strength, unlike anything he had bought from the mutant factory.

“This has to be the Mata group; they think hiring a mutant assassin means they can handle us,” Carlos surmises, dismissing the idea that it could be the more chaotic Brotherhood of Mutants.

“Why wait? Let’s strike back now! I want Barlow Mata to feel pain!” Carlos roars, demanding immediate retaliation, knowing that appearing weak could lead to their downfall.

After a pause, he instructs, “Also, make sure Antonio stays close to my daughter. Those beasts from the Mata group will stop at nothing.”

…

…

On the twenty-seventh floor at the Naukalpan Carnival Hotel, Alejandro uses a Swarovski telescope to survey a school across the street, noting, “Only the best for the CIA.”

He outlines two plans: either they storm the school to capture Isabel, which is straightforward and minimizes complications, or they intercept her en route, causing more chaos but resembling the tactics of a drug cartel more closely.

Munching on burritos, Broly asks, “Which way gets more people killed?”

“The second,” Alejandro shrugs, knowing Carlos Reyes has beefed up his daughter’s security.

Broly, deciding, says, “Then we wait here for them to leave school. Oh, and order thirty more burritos.”

Saint Ignatius Girls’ School has been an elite institution since the Spanish colonial era, but now even the daughters of drug lords study there amid much prejudice and fear from their peers.

As school lets out, Isabel Reyes’s experience is marred by disdain from her classmates, including the daughter of an American diplomat who openly insults her.

“Who’s causing trouble for the group now?” she wonders, feeling the unusual security measures as a warning of imminent danger.

The mutant factory was disguised as a mundane chemical plant, not far from the main thoroughfare of Mexico City. The weak control of the Mexican president over the country allowed for some brazen operations.

The gatekeeper at the factory entrance recognized Bolton and promptly lifted the barrier to let him in.

Bolton parked his motorcycle in the parking lot and used an ID card to open the heavy alloy doors. A typical chemical plant setup was inside—thick pipes, massive reaction vessels, and reactors. There were even workers pretending to maintain production. He entered the authentic mutant factory through a sinister, damp underground passage. “Welcome to hell!”

The head of the mutant factory, Francis, holding a clipboard and dressed in a lab coat, stood before Bolton. Behind him, the scene resembled hell: ice water baths, electric chairs, waterboarding, branding irons, and batons. The staff in the mutant factory were torturing the subjects to near death to trigger the mutant serum injected into them.

The screams of agony nearly pierced the ears. Some subjects had their X-genes activated; one sprouted sharp bone spurs, another’s skin turned into black scales, and another developed gills like a fish.

There was indeed no place on Earth more hellish than here.

“We’ve just created three new mutants that I believe Mr. Carlos Reyes will be very pleased with.”

Francis squinted like a fox that had spotted its prey. A brainwashed mutant could sell for as much as seven million dollars yet cost no more than one hundred fifty thousand dollars to produce. The main cost was the X-weapon serum, and in chaotic Mexico, the cost of experimental subjects was virtually zero.

Thanks to these wealthy drug lords, they had earned billions of dollars and supplied dozens of mutant enforcers to this chaotic land.

It was like an arms race. As soon as one side purchased mutants, the other had to buy a corresponding number of mutants to maintain a balance of power. The chaotic situation in Mexico was the best salesman.

Bolton took out his smartphone and opened a video.

“No, Mr. Carlos Reyes sent me to find out. Is this person one of your products?”

Francis’s expression turned serious. He took the phone, replaying the video back and forth, carefully observing Broly’s movements.

“This isn’t one of our products. I can’t even confirm if he’s a mutant.”

This was an unknown variable. Francis seemed indifferent on the surface but was quite intrigued internally.

“As soon as he appeared, he killed a senior lawyer of the Reyes Group, destroyed one of our factories, and kidnapped Mr. Carlos Reyes’s daughter,” Bolton reported thoroughly, as these events were no secret; it was better to speak openly, “We also suspect that a relay station was destroyed because of him.”

“Now that the Reyes Group has shown its vulnerability, Mr. Carlos Reyes wants to hire you and the Dust Angel to care for this man.”

Bolton stated.

“Why should I help you? This person is mighty and quite tricky.”

Francis handed the phone back to Bolton.

“Money is not an issue. Mr. Carlos Reyes is willing to pay a high price for your services. More importantly, Mr. Francis, this group has disrupted the balance among the cartels. If the Reyes Group falls, the Mata Group will come to you with guns, not money, to buy mutants.”

Bolton’s rise to the third command position in the Reyes Group was not just due to his brutality.

Francis was silent for a moment. Although he didn’t have much respect for these drug lords, the chaotic situation was indeed detrimental to his business. His backers would not like to see such a scenario.

“Alright, let’s talk about the price.”

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