8:00 PM Manhattan Emma Frost's Apartment
Richard and Emma Frost, having spent a pleasurable afternoon engaged in bedroom activities followed by a shared bath, were now enjoying their evening meal in the dining area.
Though Emma Frost had repeatedly offered to prepare dinner herself, Richard—knowing her culinary repertoire consisted solely of American dishes—had ultimately decided on takeout for the evening.
And since they were ordering in, he certainly wasn't going to settle for standard American fare like french fries, hamburgers, or pizza. Richard had specifically searched online for a Chinese restaurant with predominantly positive reviews in Chinese and ordered all of their signature dishes.
Though the portions were generous—enough to feed a family—he wasn't concerned about waste. With his enhanced physique, consuming enough food for five or six people presented no challenge whatsoever.
After savoring a Chinese dinner more aligned with their preferences, Richard and Emma Frost settled onto the living room sofa for conversation.
Their topics ranged from whether it would be better to engage in certain intimate activities in the living room or bathroom before bed, to whether Emma Frost should wear white stockings or black ones during such encounters, and so on.
While these discussions might be inappropriate for younger audiences, they were both adults, and such intimate dialogue was perfectly natural.
As they conversed, the evening news suddenly cut to a White House press conference. Unlike typical briefings, this particular conference lacked any external media presence—no reporters attended, and even the photographers were White House personnel.
Noticing this unusual broadcast, Richard picked up the remote and cycled through other news channels. Every station was airing the same press conference, making it clear that all major networks had received mandatory directives from the White House.
Upon discovering that every channel carried the same broadcast, Richard increased the volume, curious about what would unfold.
"After a joint investigation by multiple federal departments, it has been determined that Department of Mutant Affairs Minister Griffin Todd and Deputy Minister Winston Lambert repeatedly violated relevant statutes and abused their authority during their tenure, illegally detaining mutants who had committed no crimes and issuing unauthorized arrest warrants..."
The White House spokesperson delivered the prepared statement with exaggerated gravitas.
After nearly five minutes of carefully worded rhetoric, the broadcast concluded.
Though the spokesperson had covered considerable ground, their message could be distilled to three key points:
First, Mutant Affairs Minister Griffin Todd and Deputy Minister Winston Lambert were now imprisoned for legal violations.
Second, the S-level warrant for Richard's arrest had been canceled.
Third, a leak in the underground natural gas pipeline beneath the Department of Mutant Affairs headquarters had caused a series of cascading explosions. The full extent of damages and casualties was still being assessed.
"Using press conferences to obscure the truth has become the White House's signature skill," Emma Frost observed, resting her head on Richard's thigh like a contented cat. "Though most of what they said was fiction, they did publicly announce that your warrant has been lifted."
After their earlier intimate encounter, Richard had briefly recounted the events at the Department of Mutant Affairs headquarters. When he mentioned killing Captain America Rogers, Emma Frost had shown mild surprise but little actual concern.
To the average American citizen, Captain America represented the nation's first superhero, the greatest contributor to HYDRA's defeat, and the public face of S.H.I.E.L.D. But to those like Emma Frost who navigated the shadows of society, Captain America wasn't a hero—he was a potential liability.
"I don't particularly care how they publicly rescind the warrant," Richard remarked, his right hand wandering freely across Emma Frost's alluring form. "I'm more curious about when they'll fulfill the three conditions I proposed."
"They've canceled the warrants, so they must have accepted your other demands as well," Emma Frost replied, ignoring his wandering hands. "Otherwise, they wouldn't have arranged a press conference without external media present."
"Let's hope that's the case," Richard said. "Otherwise, I'll need to pay the White House a personal visit tomorrow at noon."
With those words, he lifted Emma Frost from where she lay beside him. Just as he prepared to teleport them both to the bedroom to commence the evening's intimate activities, the doorbell chimed unexpectedly.
Richard immediately engaged his enhanced vision, focusing through the apartment door.
Standing in the hallway were four figures who formed a perfect demographic cross-section: Cyclops, Black Widow, Professor X, and Hulk.
Upon recognizing the visitors, Richard informed Emma Frost, "It seems tonight's bedroom activities will have to wait."
"I think it's perfectly acceptable to let them wait outside for an hour or two," Emma Frost suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck and speaking in a sultry whisper.
"An hour or two?" Richard echoed with a smile. "Tonight's activities won't be limited to just an hour or two."
Setting Emma Frost down gently, he teleported to the entrance hall and opened the apartment door.
"Good evening," Black Widow Natasha greeted promptly.
"Come in," Richard replied simply.
Once Natasha, Professor X, Cyclops, and Hulk had entered the living room and seated themselves, Richard continued: "If you've come to persuade me to abandon my other two conditions, you might as well leave now."
Hearing this, Natasha exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Professor X.
"Richard, I'm sorry," Professor X began solemnly. "The White House can only meet two of your three conditions at most. Your father passed away two months ago."
Roy Wesley... dead?
Richard's brow furrowed immediately. Though the presence of Professor X and Cyclops had already suggested the White House couldn't satisfy all his demands, he hadn't expected his father—or rather, the original Richard's father—had died two months prior.
"Tell me, what kind of explanation does the White House plan to offer?" Richard asked directly, not bothering to inquire about how Roy Wesley had died.
It was obvious that Roy Wesley, a man in his prime, hadn't succumbed to natural causes. But the manner of his death was irrelevant—what mattered was how the White House intended to resolve this situation.
"That depends on what you're seeking," Professor X replied promptly. "As long as your requests are within their capacity, they won't refuse."
Richard shook his head at Professor X's response. "If that's their attitude, they clearly lack sincerity. And if they lack sincerity, I see no point in further discussion. I won't take action until the twenty-four-hour deadline expires, but if they can't provide a satisfactory solution by then..." He fixed Professor X with a cold stare. "Don't expect me to show restraint out of respect for you, Professor."
Professor X had intended to reason with Richard, but upon seeing the ice in Richard's expression, he wisely abandoned the attempt.
"In that case, we won't trouble you further," the Professor said. "We'll convey your message verbatim. I apologize for bringing such distressing news."
Professor X guided his electric wheelchair toward the apartment door. Seeing this, Cyclops immediately rose and followed without hesitation.
Natasha sighed resignedly and prepared to depart with Hulk in tow.
"I understand why you brought Hulk along," Richard called after her. "Let me be absolutely clear—this approach only intensifies my displeasure. Hulk acknowledges you because you're the only one who treats him like a person rather than a monster."
His voice hardened. "He's not your pet, nor is he a tool for you and S.H.I.E.L.D. to deploy. If there's a next time, I'll kill you regardless of how angry it might make Hulk. Do you understand?"
Though Hulk remained silent, it was evident he had been manipulated by Natasha into accompanying her. As for why she had insisted on bringing him, the reason wasn't difficult to deduce.
"I'm sorry. There won't be a next time," Natasha promised immediately.
Richard ignored her apology, rising to approach Hulk, who stood confused by the exchange.
"Big guy," Richard said with resignation, "don't blindly accept everything others tell you. You need to develop your own judgment. Understand?"
Hulk regarded Richard with bewilderment. After several seconds, he replied in his gravelly voice: "Hulk believes you. Hulk believes Natasha."
Hearing this, Richard sighed heavily. Clearly, Hulk hadn't grasped his point.
"Fine. As long as you're happy," Richard conceded. "The ignorant have their own protection. Go on back."
"Hulk not stupid!" the green giant protested earnestly.
The following day 10:00 AM
Richard encountered Natasha again—or more precisely, Natasha appeared at his door, sent by the White House. Unlike the previous night, she arrived alone this time.
"This is a comprehensive list of Department of Mutant Affairs personnel who interacted with your father from his capture until his death," she explained, opening a briefcase.
"Those marked in red have died by your hand. The rest have met with various 'accidents' since last night—car crashes, sudden cardiac events, food poisoning, laboratory incidents, home invasions, falls from buildings, suicides, disappearances." She handed him a folder. "Their names and personal details are all documented. You can verify everything."
She continued methodically, "Additionally, your previously frozen bank accounts and identification documents have been reinstated. Before my arrival, 1.5 billion dollars were transferred to your account in three separate transactions. Here's a replacement bank card—the PIN remains unchanged from your previous one."
Natasha extracted more documents as she spoke. "They weren't certain whether you intended to reside in Los Angeles or New York, so they've prepared estates in both cities. These properties previously belonged to South American narcotics traffickers and Russian arms dealers. Teams worked throughout the night to prepare them for your occupancy."
"Most of the antiques and collectibles originally belonging to the Wesley family have been recovered and transported to the Los Angeles estate. The remaining items will be secured within three days. Both properties have been thoroughly vetted—you can occupy them with complete confidence."
"As for private aircraft, yachts, luxury vehicles—they've purchased the latest models from the original manufacturers. Delivery will be arranged promptly. Finally, you now possess three private islands in the Caribbean."
"Should you have additional requests, they'll accommodate them by whatever means necessary."
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