"I'll make him an offer he can't refuse."
Don Corleone.
The vampire came through—there really were no problems with the documents. The Count was a little surprised as to why I needed them, but he didn't pry into my affairs, for which he had my separate thanks. The rest of the bloodsucking fraternity had already begun digging in the direction I'd indicated with incredible enthusiasm. So far there weren't any particular results, but I hadn't expected instant success on the very first day anyway. What pleased me was the fact that they had taken my words completely seriously. In any case, the papers for Laura Mayer—and, once again, perfectly genuine papers—would be ready in a couple of days.
But what was I supposed to do with the girl after that? She couldn't stay at home forever. Sure, I could hire a whole crowd of tutors and teachers, but with her problems... she needed normal, face-to-face communication, preferably with people her own age. I imagined the scene: this sweet child in an ordinary school.
"Children, how did you spend your vacation?"
One had traveled around Europe, another had gone to a sports club, and this little miracle would casually blurt out something like, "I was learning rapid field-interrogation techniques," or something along those lines. No. I could give her a 'mission' to pretend to be a normal child, but... you get the idea. The plan was, to put it mildly, not great.
Xavier's school was a more interesting option. They had seen stranger things there, and Laura would be much more comfortable among unusual beings than among ordinary people. But handing the girl over to 'kind Grandpa Charles'... No way.
I would never believe that a man who held a leadership position and possessed the ability to rummage around in other people's brains had never used that ability for his own purposes, and frankly I didn't care how noble he considered those purposes to be.
I was not sending the child there without mental protection. I remembered Magneto having that amusing helmet... though no, that wasn't a solution either. A helmet could simply be removed.
Hmm... I'd have to think. Nothing came to mind immediately, except perhaps that effect where the brain took a severe hit when too much information was dumped into it over too little time...
Looks like I needed volunteers again. But that could wait. Victor could not. Hmm. What could I use to occupy Laura while I was away... no, unlikely... although, why not? A child ought to watch cartoons at least once in her life, right?
Definitely not American brain-melting nonsense about a duck with a speech defect or an overgrown mouse, though I had always had a soft spot for one particular troll of a rabbit. Hmm. She simply wouldn't understand the cartoons from back home. Some were too kind, others too deep; plenty of adults didn't understand them either.
So we'd start with something more interesting. Right. Internet... manga... anime. Oh, and 'Bleach' had made it into this world too. Perfect. That was where we'd begin introducing a sweet innocent child to the world of sword and sorcery—uh, I mean zanpakutō and kidō. There were plenty of episodes too. Enough to last a long time. With the smile of the serpent-tempter—Orochimaru?—I turned to Laura, who was sipping tea.
"Tell me, sweet child"—why is my ear buzzing?—"would you like to watch another fairy tale?"
Mmm. Look at her perk up at the word 'fairy tale.'
"Watch? What do you mean? Aren't fairy tales usually read?"
Confusion and doubt.
"Oh, sometimes people draw colorful pictures for a fairy tale and use them to make a story. You've heard of cartoons, haven't you?"
The child shook her head, and once again I regretted that Rice and Kimura had gotten off so cheaply.
"Well, I think you'll like it."
I started the first episode, and we settled down in front of the screen.
A couple of hours later.
Yeah... apparently the idea hadn't been quite as good as I'd thought. The first episodes generated a mountain of questions from the girl—how, why, what for, why subtitles were necessary and why we couldn't watch redubbed cartoons instead.
It turned out Laura knew Japanese, though only at a very basic level—more like the contents of an interrogation phrasebook for prisoners of war than an actual language—but still. Then the plot and the vividness of the world unfolding before her finally caught her attention. In the end, I told her not to get too carried away, while casually mentioning that there were also things called manga and light novels.
The girl's delight knew no bounds. She used the internet confidently enough, so now she had something to keep her occupied, while I had a little free time to deal with my own affairs.
I'd been traded in for a television. How sad. On the other hand, that was a fairly common problem for parents these days. I snorted quietly. Look at me now, damn it. But enough jokes. Time to get to work.
So: Felicia or von Doom?
I had to tell the girl something, otherwise the situation was becoming downright ugly on my part, but I still couldn't tell her the truth. Ah, to hell with it. I'd simply tell her outright that I wasn't ready to confess everything yet and let her decide whether she still wanted me. If yes—good. If no... I tried not to think about that.
So, off to the university. Oh, Kurt was going to tear me a new one over my attendance. On the other hand, I had something to counter with. Grinning maliciously, I took along the photos from our drinking session that I'd already had printed. Let the man enjoy himself too.
Then I headed outside.
As it turned out, I'd underestimated Dr. Connors. He had no intention of scolding me. Quite the opposite—he practically looked at me with pride and kept asking how the girl had settled in and whether I needed any help. So instead of another research session, the Doc buried me under advice about taking care of a child.
Kurt tormented me so thoroughly that I had to redirect his attention in a hurry. The photos I'd brought came in handy. The doctor laughed for a long time and reminisced about his own reckless college youth, but he still issued one firm instruction: none of the students were to see those pictures, otherwise the image of the terrifying evil professor he had lovingly cultivated over the years might suffer serious damage.
He did take copies for himself, though, smiling at something. He also promised that, if necessary, he'd shield me from the wrath of his colleagues as long as I passed the transition exams properly. Well then. Everything was fine here. I'd effectively been granted an indulgence for skipping classes. If only I'd had one of those in my previous world... Alas. Now I only had to solve the problem with Felicia.
Hmm. Maybe I should go to von Doom first after all? I tried to postpone the conversation that frightened me for as long as possible, but knowing it had to happen sooner or later, I pulled myself together—not that I particularly enjoyed holding disgusting things in my hands, but sometimes you had to—and finally approached the girl.
Felicia was discussing something with a flock of girls from our group, but the moment I drew closer their conversation died away on its own and every pair of eyes turned toward me. Through their emotions I caught the same interest in me as before, and envy directed at Felicia.
"Ladies, may I steal your friend for a little while? I promise to return her safe and sound."
The aforementioned ladies laughed, said goodbye to Miss Hardy, and promised to see her again in class. Several of them threw interested looks in our direction. Oh, I had a feeling someone was going to have to withstand a minor assault by curious girls.
"Did you want something, Walter?"
Felicia sounded slightly offended.
"Yes. To talk... about a few things."
Yeah. I'd never been at a loss for words before, yet now I practically had to dislocate the last of my brain cells just to produce a couple of simple sentences.
"Well then, I'm listening very carefully."
Emotionally, the girl wasn't angry, but apparently she'd decided that speaking to me in that tone might pry a little more out of me. Crafty girl. Meanwhile, we walked calmly toward the university park.
"Mmm... how do I start? I won't be able to tell you everything. It isn't only my secret... Right now... I'm just not ready, damn it! I just don't want to put you in danger." I clenched my fist. "I'm sorry. I promise I'll tell you everything. But later. Right now... I just can't."
My shoulders sagged. There was no need to act; I genuinely felt miserable.
"And... I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore..."
I wasn't allowed to finish. She simply shut me up with a kiss.
"Idiot," Felicia concluded after pulling back slightly. "You're not getting away from me that easily. And as for your secrets... I'll wait. That's a woman's lot, I suppose—to wait for her man."
She whispered the last part somehow sadly.
"Felicia, I..."
"Just stay with me. That's all."
The girl buried her face against my shoulder, while I stood there processing what had just happened. From Felicia came a mixture of happiness, slight sadness, and an entire ocean of tenderness.
No.
I categorically did not understand women. Especially Miss Hardy's reaction, considering her curiosity. Logic and common sense told me she should have latched onto me like a tick and refused to let go until she got answers.
Instead... I shook my head. Yeah. It was probably easier to learn to play billiards with cubes than to understand female logic. But... I was glad female logic differed from male logic.
We sat on a bench in the little park until evening. Just sitting. Saying nothing. Words weren't necessary; they seemed somehow excessive and empty.
Afterward, I simply walked her home and handed her over to her mother, then took on the form of the Nazgûl and rose into the night sky.
There was another meeting ahead of me tonight.
Victor von Doom. No Longer a Man, and No Longer a Billionaire.
********************
The man sat in a broad leather chair in his office and drank. What else was he supposed to do? Everything he had spent so many years building threatened to crumble into dust.
His latest experiment—the last hope of attracting sponsors to his company's research—had nearly killed not only him, but the few people he could call, if not friends, then certainly companions.
Worst of all, he had put Susan at risk—the woman he loved. But did she love him? Before, he would have answered yes without hesitation. They had begun dating during one of the worst periods of Victor's life, and he had always found support and stability in her. But after the latest incident... he was no longer so certain.
He couldn't even bring himself to be angry with her. After everything that had happened, he probably would have done the same in her place. Probably. But his troubles hadn't ended there.
As if ruin and effective bankruptcy weren't enough—the miserable couple of million left in his accounts wouldn't even cover his employees' salaries next month. And they were still relying on him. More than that, they still believed in him, believed he would think of something. Unfortunately, it seemed he might soon become incapable of thinking at all.
Victor had noticed changes in his body. Then came the simplest possible X-ray, and there it was: after the cosmic radiation, something strange had begun happening to his organism. The very structure of his cells was changing. The scientist had no idea how it would end, but he was absolutely certain of one thing—he would no longer be human. Whether he would even survive the changes was another question entirely.
Von Doom drained another glass of whiskey and grimaced. The bottle was already showing its bottom, yet he wasn't even slightly drunk. Another consequence of the mutation? The man angrily hurled the glass against the wall. He couldn't even get properly drunk. What was he supposed to do?
He tried to find a way out of the situation, but there simply wasn't one. Even if he began selling off equipment, it would only prolong the agony by a month or two. Without funding, his research couldn't survive for long. Modern sponsors preferred to put money into projects promising guaranteed profit in the immediate future, not ten years from now—and even then, perhaps not at all.
So hundreds of millions of dollars went into inventing new varieties of ultra-soft toilet paper with some exotic scent, while the search for new energy sources or the development of new alloys received pennies, if anything at all.
The scientist sighed heavily. Only a miracle could save him now. He had stopped believing in miracles a long time ago. As it turned out, that had been premature.
"Good evening, Mr. von Doom."
From the thickening shadow stepped... something. A rather tall creature wrapped in a black robe. Victor could have sworn there had been no one there a minute earlier. The stranger's voice was cold and lifeless, yet carried a certain authority. On some instinctive level, one felt that this creature possessed the right to give orders—and to expect them obeyed.
"Good evening, esteemed...?"
The magnate had seen a great deal in his life and had some experience dealing with all kinds of people. If this creature had come to him, then it wanted something from him. At the same time, the manner of its arrival... meant this was not an assassination attempt. Otherwise, instead of greeting him, it would have attacked already. And if that was the case, why not speak with such an interesting—and very polite—visitor?
The scientist smirked inwardly. Besides, I don't really have anything left to lose.
"I am called Nazgûl. Perhaps you've heard of me."
The voice remained just as even and cold, but Victor thought he caught a trace of approval in his counterpart's tone.
"In any case," the Nazgûl continued, "the organization to which I have the honor of belonging wishes to make you an offer."
Von Doom listened closely. In his present situation, dismissing even a ghost of a chance to climb out of the pit of debt would have been outright stupidity. And he had never been a fool.
"We are aware of your... difficult circumstances and are prepared to provide some assistance. We are likewise prepared to take responsibility for improving your health."
The magnate flinched. How could they possibly know about that? He himself had only understood what was happening to him a couple of days ago, and he certainly hadn't informed anyone. So how?
"That sounds too good for it to be so simple. What do you want in return? A controlling stake? My soul?"
"No. We have no need of your soul. You, however—and your technical base—are of interest to us. We wish you to join our organization, swear the appropriate oath of vassalage, and thereby receive all corresponding rights and responsibilities. In exchange for your loyalty, we will solve your problems with the transformation and the lack of sponsors."
"May I... think about it?"
All this talk of organizations and oaths of vassalage smelled unpleasant. He had no desire to get involved. But letting such an opportunity slip away would be foolish too.
"Of course. We also have a small gift for you."
The robed being extended a folded piece of paper. Victor unfolded it. It turned out to be a map with perfectly recognizable coordinates and a marked point near the center.
"There lies something capable of giving you more time to consider. Our second gift, however..." The creature reached into the depths of its robe and produced an ordinary test tube containing something black and red. "...can solve your problem with the lack of sponsors."
"What is it?"
Victor took the tube carefully.
"A medicine capable of curing a disease such as cancer. I assume your laboratories can provide a couple of mice to demonstrate its effectiveness. To reproduce it, simply place at least a drop of the sample into saline solution and add a small amount of blood. If you accept our offer, begin producing the drug under the name of your corporation. If you refuse... then only our first gift will remain at your disposal."
The scientist had the distinct impression that the creature beneath the robe was smiling.
"And what would stop me from simply producing it after obtaining the sample, without accepting your offer?"
"Two things. First: you have established a reputation as a man of your word. That is precisely why we chose you from among several candidates. And second..." A pause. "You are not a fool. You understand perfectly well that in such a case we might become... displeased."
Victor nodded in understanding. Indeed. Displeasing people who counted beings like this among their number would be distinctly unsafe. Well, the arguments were clear enough. But there genuinely was much to consider.
"And now, if you have no further questions, I will leave you." The magnate nodded again, his thoughts already far away as he weighed the pros and cons of such a step in his life. "I hope that the next time we meet, we will already be on the same side."
The robed creature stepped backward into the shadows and vanished. The only evidence it had ever been there was the map and the test tube containing a strange substance potentially worth billions of dollars.
Yes. There was plenty to think about. But first... he needed to find out what kind of cache was marked on the map, and how its contents could buy him more time. Von Doom began bustling about, planning a trip to the indicated location.
He also needed to send the substance away for analysis... No. He needed to study it personally. If anyone learned of it too soon, and its capabilities really were what the Nazgûl claimed, serious problems might begin.
The man planned his next day. And from the corner of the room, leaning against the wall with chameleon mode activated, a creature known to many as the Nazgûl watched him.
Walter Mayer. (Nazgûl)
*********************
The conversation had gone far more interestingly than I'd expected. Victor von Doom truly was a man of steel. Even in an openly desperate situation, he remained cold-blooded and calculating. He did not charge headfirst into the unknown; he weighed his prospects.
Had he been born in another era and under different circumstances, the world might have received a second Alexander the Great. Maybe I was overestimating him. But he had unquestionably earned my sincere respect and admiration for his self-control.
So I gave him a couple of months to think. How? Simple. I pointed him toward one of my caches, where a hundred and fifty million dollars in gold and precious stones had been lying around as dead weight. Victor shouldn't have any trouble converting it.
Meanwhile, I turned my attention to something no less important—my own financial well-being. At the moment I had around twenty-six million in my account: eighteen from Kimura, plus what remained after buying the apartment and equipment.
And shares in Mr. von Doom's corporation were currently worth almost less than the paper they were printed on. Hardly surprising. The financiers expected his brainchild to declare bankruptcy at any moment and were dumping the 'garbage' as fast as they could.
As a result, I managed to buy forty-two percent of the company for only twelve million. Considering that five years ago I wouldn't have been able to buy even one percent for that amount, the current share price could only be described as dirt cheap. Hopefully, his fortunes would improve rapidly from now on. Heh-heh.
Two whole weeks passed. Two weeks of peace and quiet. Two weeks in which I actually had free time. There was still no news from any direction.
Silvermane and Kingpin were as reluctant as ever to move into open confrontation, taking turns sabotaging one another with varying degrees of success.
Spidey continued catching small-time trash.
Laura had thrown herself into the life of an anime fan. Half of 'Bleach' was already behind her. Her favorite character was declared to be Aizen, naturally, as an exemplary agent who had managed to fool all of Soul Society for a century and a half. The girl even asked me to buy her a poster of him—which, considering her upbringing, was a genuine feat of courage.
So now an image of the famous captain hung in her room with one amusing caption I couldn't resist adding. I confess my guilt. She'd also taken an interest in 'Slayers' and was already eyeing 'Reborn!'
As for me... I had finally begun behaving like a normal person. I worked on science with Kurt, went out with Felicia, and occasionally managed to train with Blade. I finally restored his old mentor to normal and even knocked about ten years off his age.
Oh, with what pleasure I charged the scourge of vampires one hundred and fifty thousand for the job, explaining that 'I'm not a charity.' His face at that moment was priceless. And the way Rick laughed when somebody explained why the amount was exactly that much and where the phrase came from...
Yeah. They were a fun bunch after all. A little fanatical, with heavily armed cockroaches in their heads, but perfectly tolerable in small doses every now and then.
At the same time, I kept trying to invent mental protection. The general concept was already worked out. Only one tiiiny flaw remained: everyone I installed that 'protection' in simply went insane, tormented by hallucinations and false memories. On the bright side, the 'rejected material' was useful for practicing the mechanism of turning and restructuring an organism.
After all, I still had the vampires to deal with. In that direction, things were going much better. I'd be able to improve my future vassals through an impressive ritual. Many of them had been alive for centuries and had a rather elevated respect for rituals and traditions, so why not make the subordinates happy, especially when it would cost me nothing?
But apparently I wasn't destined to live normally for long. Either my karma was like that, or the goddess of fate had a truly rotten sense of humor. Events suddenly began pouring down like water from a broken dam.
The vampires had finally dug up the information I needed and were deeply impressed—so deeply that Federico had difficulty persuading them to wait another day or two.
The news announced the discovery of a certain 'Tablet of Time.' The artifact was valuable not only to archaeologists: it also had an elevated radiation background and built-in crystal emitters.
And when it came to radiation, Dr. Connors was unrivaled among us. So the Tablet was transported to the laboratory of our good doctor, where he cheerfully put me to work studying this legacy of the ancient Incas.
Though frankly, I had my doubts that savages who practiced human sacrifice and cannibalism could have built something like that on their own—at least not without outside assistance. Very serious outside assistance.
And finally, Victor von Doom's corporation had made 'one of the outstanding discoveries in the field of biology by defeating a disease such as cancer.' Which meant I had a mountain of work ahead of me. The vacation was over.
-------
Next chapter would be big. (so only 1 for next week)