The moment Alex appeared, Jarvis—who had been waiting beside the car—immediately stepped forward to greet him with polite enthusiasm.
"Jarvis, I hope I didn't keep you waiting."
"I just arrived as well, sir. Please, get in. The dinner has already been arranged."
Jarvis circled around to the other side and opened the door for Alex with gentlemanly flair.
One had to admit, compared to Howard Stark himself, his butler Jarvis was far more of a gentleman in every regard.
Though Howard Stark was no spring chicken anymore, he hadn't shed his playboy ways in the slightest.
"Dinner? I thought this was just a casual meal. Stark didn't need to make it such a big deal."
Alex glanced at Jarvis.
"Mr. Stark considers you his savior, sir. Naturally, it couldn't be a simple affair," Jarvis replied, motioning for him to get in.
"Savior is a bit much."
Alex shook his head but didn't press the issue further.
Howard Stark might lack many things, but money certainly wasn't one of them. If the man wanted to throw a fancy dinner, so be it. Alex figured he might as well enjoy some luxury while it lasted.
"Target spotted! Repeat, target spotted!"
Just as Alex was about to enter the car, he suddenly paused.
His enhanced hearing had picked up a voice—quiet, but clear.
Another voice crackled through an earpiece, tinged with barely contained excitement.
"Facial match is over 80%. It's definitely our target."
"Excellent. Don't let him out of your sight!"
The brief conversation ended there.
Jarvis noticed his momentary distraction and called out cautiously.
Alex waved a hand and climbed into the car, acting as if nothing had happened.
But inwardly, he had grown alert.
Through the car window, he cast a subtle glance in the direction the voices had come from.
Sure enough, in an unassuming corner, a sharp-looking man in his thirties with a buzz cut was quietly watching him.
And the moment Alex got in the car, the man followed suit and entered another vehicle.
As Jarvis started the engine, that car began tailing them—keeping a discreet but steady distance.
There was no doubt about it. That man was following him.
Alex fell into thought.
To be honest, he hadn't been in this world for long. He hadn't offended many people… had he?
Then again—he had killed Sabretooth, Azazel, Riptide, and a few werewolves…
Yeah, maybe he needed to take that thought back.
Still, Sabretooth's death had been a while ago, and thanks to Caliban's intel, Alex was fairly sure Shaw hadn't tracked him down.
Could it be the werewolves?
But the whole "yes sir" and "orders received" stuff… that didn't sound like werewolves.
Since when did those guys get so organized?
Something didn't add up.
Outwardly, Alex leaned back with his eyes closed as if resting. But inside, his mind was working rapidly.
Even so, no clear answer came to him. In the end, he decided not to dwell on it.
When those people finally showed themselves, everything would become clear.
54th Street, New York.
Inside a temporary command center.
On his face, William Stryker wore an excited expression—he had finally found the bastard!
The deaths of Sabretooth and Zero had been a thorn in his side for far too long. He had thrown considerable resources into tracking their killer.
But strangely enough, aside from that amusement park incident, the perpetrators had completely vanished without a trace.
It had driven Stryker mad.
Eventually, he'd been forced to shelve the investigation.
But then—just when he thought the trail had gone cold—he'd unexpectedly received a crucial lead from Lucien:
A young man who beat a werewolf to death with his bare hands.
Now, Stryker wasn't a mutant, but no one understood mutants better than he did.
So, Stryker had launched a new investigation.
Starting with the bar where the incident happened, he cast a wide net—mapping out all of the man's known associates and regular haunts.
That included the middle-aged man seen with Alex, the actual owner of the bar, and of course, Howard Stark, who'd once been saved by him.
All of them were placed under surveillance.
Even Jarvis, as Stark's proxy, wasn't spared.
Though the middle-aged man was actually Mystique in disguise, and Caliban—the bar owner—was hyper-cautious and had already relocated after the shootout, Stryker had dug up nothing useful there.
Ironically, it was from Jarvis—the least suspicious of them—that the breakthrough came.
Something Stryker had never expected.
"We've finally found him? Sir, let me go get him right now!"
Loyal as ever, Wade stepped forward with eager confidence.
Stryker immediately stopped him. "You won't be going alone this time. I'm assigning two tactical teams to operate under your command."
"Seriously, sir? Don't you think that's overkill? We're just capturing one guy, not launching a military operation!"
Was the boss overestimating this guy?
So what if he killed Sabretooth? Big deal.
"Wade, you're a prime candidate for the Weapon X Program. I'm not taking any chances."
Stryker wasn't about to explain further.
"So… you really think there's a chance I'll lose?" Wade clutched his chest in mock heartbreak. "Sir, I thought we had a bond! After all this time, I thought you knew me. But now I see… you never did."
"Shut up, Wade. Your mission is to bring him back—alive, and without compromising your own safety."
Stryker cut him off mid-rant. "If you can't bring the man, then bring the serum."
For his research, the serum alone was enough.
Of course, Stryker's ultimate goal wasn't just to kill Alex.
What he really wanted… was to uncover the mutant organization behind him.
But if things didn't go according to plan, he'd settle for second-best.
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