Reborn with Steve Stand

“What did you say?”

At these words, several people’s expressions darkened. “Are these research findings of yours real? What proof do you have that you’re telling the truth?”

“I’ve detailed the experimental procedures and principles right here.”

Fang Mo patted the information on the table. “If you want to verify it, that’s easy. Since you’re all big shots in your respective countries, just get a few experts and borrow a lab to replicate the process. The experimental data won’t lie.”

“This…”

Seeing Fang Mo so confident, the various high-ranking officials exchanged hesitant looks.

They actually didn’t care that the Trask Group secretly researched mutants or used cruel and inhumane methods to torture them. After all, they weren’t mutants.

Plus, according to Bolivar [Trask]’s explanations, mutants posed a lethal threat to ordinary people. Their powers varied wildly—phasing through walls, mind-reading, teleportation, shapeshifting, metal manipulation. If any of them turned hostile, it would be a major headache. So it seemed more efficient to simply fund Bolivar’s Sentinel program to wipe them all out at once.

But now, things had changed.

If what this man said turned out to be true, then they themselves might one day suddenly become mutants and be targeted by the very project they once approved.

Politicians can be devious and self-serving. If there’s profit to be had, they swarm like flies. But if their own safety is at stake, they’ll do anything to protect themselves—self-preservation is paramount.

That’s precisely the situation now. Almost every official present went silent, their expressions shifting as they glanced from Fang Mo to Bolivar, whispering among themselves, weighing their options.

From a mutant’s perspective, this shift in the politicians’ attitude was obviously a good thing.

But as far as Bolivar was concerned, he couldn’t sit still. He’d always regarded mutants as the enemy. After all that work trying to persuade these officials, it was all unraveling at a critical moment.

“You…”

Bolivar turned to Fang Mo. “You’re just making excuses for the mutants. Your so-called research is baseless.”

“I’ve already said, the methodology and underlying theory are laid out right here.”

Fang Mo shot him a glance. “If you don’t believe me, go test it yourself.”

“Ridiculous! I know more about mutant genetics than anyone!”

It was unclear if it was Fang Mo’s identity as a mutant or the file itself that had provoked him, but Bolivar lost his temper, slamming the table. Then he held up a small detection device in his hand, shouting, “This detector of mine was built based on mutant genes! If your theory is correct…wouldn’t that mean this detector would also go off for normal humans? How could it ever detect mutants then?” ＲÁ𐌽Ó𝐛Ę𝙎

“Maybe your research is as worthless as you are.”

Fang Mo shrugged with a polite smile. “Sorry, but if my theory is correct, that gadget in your hand might be just a piece of junk that can’t distinguish humans from mutants.”

“You dare—!”

Bolivar’s tone turned icy.

“Maybe it just gives false alarms.” Fang Mo locked eyes with Bolivar, his voice calm yet unsettling. “You thought you were illegally capturing mutants when, in reality, they might have been ordinary citizens—people you then dissected and butchered in your labs…”

“What!”

On the other side of the table, the “general” (actually Mystique in disguise) put on a shocked expression. “Mr. Trask, is he telling the truth?”

“Impossible! Absolutely impossible!”

Bolivar was still confident. He pointed his gene-detector at Fang Mo. “My device is one hundred percent accurate. For instance, you— you’re definitely a mutant—”

But before he could finish, the detector suddenly went dark.

“Huh?!”

Bolivar froze in disbelief.

“Mr. Trask, what’s the meaning of this?”

The other officials frowned. They had trusted Bolivar initially because of his solid technical credentials. But now it looked like his device had malfunctioned at the worst possible moment.

“This…”

Bolivar hesitated, then looked up at Fang Mo. “You’re not a mutant?”

Fang Mo didn’t answer. Instead, he raised his hand toward the conference table. A terrifying gravitational field manifested. The air distorted, and they could all hear the table groaning under the stress. Under an unseen, crushing force, the table shattered with a loud crack and was compressed into a tiny, eerie sphere.

Only then did Fang Mo look down on Bolivar from above.

“…I’m your daddy.”

“This—this is what a mutant can do?!”

The assembled officials were alarmed. The power Fang Mo displayed was terrifying. It looked as if he could crush any one of them in an instant.

“How… How is this possible?”

Bolivar himself was also stunned. Judging from the ability, Fang Mo was obviously a mutant. But why hadn’t the detector gone off? It had definitely been beeping before. Why had it failed now?

Bolivar waved the detector around in confusion. When he pointed it at the “general” [Mystique], it suddenly started beeping again.

“Huh?”

Bolivar was dumbfounded.

“Mr. Trask!”

The “general” jumped from his seat, visibly offended. “Is this your idea of a joke?!”

And it wasn’t just the “general.” The other officials in the conference room were also furious. Bolivar looked completely unreliable now; his device couldn’t detect the most dangerous mutant in the room but started shrieking at seemingly normal people. If they were wrongly labeled mutants, it could ruin their careers!

And on top of that, Fang Mo’s earlier comment was ringing in everyone’s ears: normal humans also possessed the latent X-gene.

If Bolivar’s device wasn’t broken, did that mean they truly had the X-gene too? Could they become mutants someday?

The more they thought about it, the more unsettled they became. No one in their right mind would still want to fund Bolivar’s Sentinels under such circumstances.

With those worries, everyone subconsciously ignored the most crucial possibility: that the “general” might actually be a mutant—namely Mystique—collaborating with Fang Mo.

“Mr. Trask,” one official finally spoke up, “I think we need to reconsider our cooperation with you.”

“Indeed.”

Others immediately followed suit. “We’ll need to rethink this.”

“Us as well.”

Updat𝒆d fr𝑜m freewebnøvel.com.

The “general” [Mystique] slowly sat back down. “Your technology isn’t nearly as reliable as you claimed. And given your recent display, I’m now highly suspicious that my countrymen have been subjected to illegal experimentation. The Trask Group had better provide a thorough explanation.”

“This…”

Bolivar Trask froze. He never anticipated this outcome.

“See? I told you.”

Fang Mo grinned at him. “Garbage is destined to remain garbage.”

“…”

Bolivar, thoroughly provoked, was visibly furious. He realized there was no point in staying, so he shot Fang Mo a final glare. “…We’re not finished!”

With that, he turned and left.

“Huh, quite the fragile ego. A few words and he’s already cracking.”

Watching Bolivar go, Fang Mo feigned disappointment, then almost immediately broke into a cheerful smile. Looking at the assembled officials, he said, “All right, then—now it’s my turn to speak.”

“W-What do you want to say?”

The officials seemed anxious. It couldn’t be helped: Fang Mo’s power was way beyond normal. If he decided he wanted to kill them, there wasn’t much they could do.

“Hey now, no need to be nervous.”

Fang Mo had no intention of killing them. He waved a hand in a friendly manner. “We mutants have always been victims—feared, persecuted, and distrusted by everyone. Sure, I admit that some mutants who’ve suffered at human hands do want all of you dead.”

“?!”

At that remark, the officials’ faces went pale. But Fang Mo quickly continued with a smile:

“But I’m a good guy. I’m not here to threaten you; I’m here to talk cooperation.”

“Cooperation?”

They all exchanged surprised looks. “What kind of cooperation?”

“Well, like that scoundrel Bolivar, I’m here to talk business. I’ve got an interesting proposal as well.”

Fang Mo smiled and pulled out a third file. “Here, take a look.”

“This is…”

An aide handed the file around, and after a quick glance, everyone blurted out in confusion, “Human Instrumentality Project?”

[“人类补完计划” literally translates as a “Human Completion Plan,” often referenced jokingly or as a nod to Neon Genesis Evangelion.]

“Yes, that’s the one.”

Fang Mo nodded, then got straight to the point. “Bolivar wants to eradicate mutants, but as we’ve discovered, normal humans carry latent X-genes, so that won’t work. Instead, how about all of us become mutants?”

“What?”

They were baffled.

“You’ve all just seen for yourselves what mutant powers can do.”

Fang Mo gestured to himself, continuing, “This is a natural human ability that’s been overlooked for too long. So our ‘Nao-Ye Corporation’ [脑页公司, literally “Brain-Page Corp.” or “Cortex Corp.”] has developed a new product… The ‘Ubermensch Gene Enhancement Serum.’”

“That’s… what exactly?”

Someone couldn’t help asking.

“You could think of it as a catalyst for awakening the X-gene.”

Fang Mo spoke with conviction. “With it, ordinary humans can quickly become mutants. As for what specific power you’ll gain, well, that depends on your genes. Can’t say for sure.”

“So you…”

One official began to speak.

“Of course, that’s only the basic consumer version.”

Fang Mo cut him off with a mysterious grin. “In our plan, there’s also a commercial or VIP version, which offers partial customization—things like anti-aging, accelerated healing, super strength, super endurance, even making you physically young again.”

“Huh?!”

Everyone’s expressions changed all at once.

But Fang Mo wasn’t done:

“Gentlemen, I apologize if this sounds blunt, but we mutants do have some bad apples who might try to assassinate you. You don’t want to live in fear, do you?”

He shrugged. “So why not become the most powerful mutants yourselves—beings who stand at the pinnacle of power and the top of the food chain? Crush a city with the wave of a hand, if you choose. Any petty criminal or rebel would be squashed under your thumb.”

“I…”

Clearly, the officials were tempted. But none wanted to be the first to show interest, so they surreptitiously looked around at each other.

At that crucial moment, the “general” [Mystique] spoke up again:

“So…” in the guise of weighing options, he asked softly, “what do you want from us?”

“Heh heh heh.”

Fang Mo laughed. “Not much, really. I only want you all to take a stance.”

“A stance?”

They blinked. “What stance?”

“Quite simple.”

Fang Mo waved a hand. “I’m also a mutant, so it’s natural for me to fight for my own rights, right? Mutants have been persecuted for so long—aren’t our lives worth anything? So…”

With that, he pulled out more documents.

Accepting them, everyone noticed titles such as “Proposal for Treating Mutants as a Protected Minority,” “Anti-Discrimination Bill for Mutants,” “Mutant Equal Rights Movement Project,” “Prospects for Deep Exploration of X-Genes,” and “Using Mutant Abilities to Rapidly Boost the Local Economy.”

“These are my proposals. I hope all of you can support me when the time comes.”

Fang Mo smiled and looked around at the assembly. “Because…”

“I want to make mutants into a matter of Political Correctness!”