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Marvel: Start Signing in with Megatron_chapter_0031
Chapter 55
**Marvel: Start Signing in with Megatron Chapter 31**
His gaze was incredibly deep. He recalled how, just moments ago, that immensely grand spirit had entered his mind, carefully instructing him to guide Stephen Strange to find Kamar-Taj.
In that instant, Professor X immediately understood that some of the seemingly specious legends from the past were true, and all the stories hidden behind what seemed absurd and mythological were indeed real.
"However, Martin also seems to be in the Himalayas. Those two..."
Professor X frowned.
He only hoped everything would go smoothly.
**Chapter 72**
Stephen Strange used up the last of his fortune, following Professor X's guidance, and journeyed all the way to the Himalayas. He then remembered that he should inform his loyal assistant, but after dialing the number, he realized it had been disconnected.
"A place even Professor X isn't sure about... Kamar-Taj..."
Stephen Strange clutched the note tightly with trembling hands. After much difficulty, he finally stepped onto this terrifyingly high-altitude land.
Terrifying gales constantly roared, cutting at him like knives. This made his already down-and-out state even more pathetic. He stood on the street, hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, gazing helplessly at the crowd.
Stephen Strange went to the market, holding the note in his hand, and asked everyone he met, "Kamar-Taj?"
Passersby shook their heads. Stephen Strange continued to ask, but still received no useful information, and his heart gradually grew cold.
At this moment, a group of hooligans surrounded him with ill intentions.
"Kamar-Taj?" Stephen Strange asked.
The next second, he was hit. With a *smack*, a slap mark appeared on his face.
"Kamar-Taj?"
"Look at this fool."
The hooligans began to grin sinisterly and started to snatch Stephen Strange's valuables.
"Another one's coming over there... his belongings are even more valuable!"
A sharp-eyed hooligan saw a young man in a suit getting out of a Beetle and immediately shouted.
The hooligans immediately rushed over, abandoning the poor Stephen Strange on the spot.
"Oh, are you planning to... rob me?"
The handsome young man stood ramrod straight. His black suit alone must have cost tens of thousands of dollars, and his black hair was meticulously styled; he practically had "rich" written all over him.
No wonder the local hooligans targeted him; he was practically a fat sheep waiting to be shorn.
"Hand over your valuables! Including those clothes you're wearing! Take them off, quickly!" the leading hooligan said in broken English.
Looking at these guys, Martin suddenly smiled.
Was there anything funnier than this?
These idiots actually wanted to extort him!
"You're courting death!"
A thug pulled out a knife and gestured menacingly at Martin's face, which was full of gentle smiles.
Martin's gaze swept past these idiots, landing on Stephen Strange, who was scrambling to his feet. He chuckled and said, "Sir, were you also extorted by them? When you travel far from home, don't you know to carry a weapon?"
"No... I didn't think that far ahead..." Stephen Strange was covered in dust and dirt, wiping away the blood from the corner of his mouth, looking somewhat timid, completely unlike his former confident and arrogant self.
"It's not too late to start thinking about it now," Martin said, maintaining his smile.
A hint of savagery appeared on the thug's face, and he savagely thrust his knife forward.
*Crack!*
The next second, the small thug's head was twisted off by Martin.
This was not a metaphor; it was literally twisted off. He held one hand on the shoulder and the other on the neck. Then, with a gentle application of force, like tearing a piece of bread, the man's head, like a twisted dough fritter, was torn off by Martin.
Blood splattered skyward, a dazzling sight.
Everyone was stunned into silence.
Martin clapped his hands, then spread them in a shrug, smiling at Stephen Strange. "See that? Sometimes, change is just that simple. People really are different."
Stephen Strange's eyes almost popped out, and fear surged through his heart.
The numerous small thugs looked at each other, covered in blood, their faces filled with terror. Finally, they shrieked and tried to flee for their lives.
"Bumblebee, kill them all."
Martin raised a hand and pointed.
The Beetle suddenly began to transform, quickly turning into a yellow Transformer. A Hand Cannon materialized, and with a roar, it instantly blasted these idiots into dust right on the street.
They were utterly vaporized.
This cold-blooded scene was witnessed by everyone, unfolding in mere seconds. Many people hadn't even reacted, and only after another moment did they scream and scramble away.
Martin calmly took out a handkerchief, wiped the blood from his hands, and slowly walked towards Stephen Strange.
Bumblebee followed behind him like a loyal guard.
[Bumblebee]
[Autobot Army's Reconnaissance Unit]
[Personality: Lively (Persistence +20%)]
[Height: 6.5 meters]
[Energy: 6 million]
[Chassis: Healthy]
[Combat Power: Level Three]
[Motto: #￥%# (A string of unintelligible noises)]
[Evaluation: The reconnaissance captain of the Autobot Army, the most outstanding Sentry. Though a small frame, he contains immense Energy within him.]
"You are... Martin? *The* Martin?! Professor X said you could heal my hands!"
Stephen Strange looked at Bumblebee, as if struck by lightning, instantly clearing his mind. The desire to heal his hands overwhelmed his fear of the unknown, and he asked, his face full of excitement.
Martin glanced at him. "Hmm, these hands are ruined? I can indeed heal them."
"Please, help me heal them! I'm willing to pay any price!!" Stephen Strange's eyes welled with tears, and he was almost on his knees.
God knows how much suffering he had endured during this time!
Martin stroked his chin, pondering seriously for a moment.
To be honest, for a moment, his heart truly wavered. Stephen Strange's Magic potential was too high, even higher than the Ancient One's! If Stephen Strange was given a few hundred years, and Martin personally gave him a Power-Up, truthfully, cultivating Stephen Strange into a Universe-tier Archmage wouldn't be difficult at all.
Alas...
"Unfortunately, the price you can pay is not what I need."
Martin's face showed regret.
If he were to poach Doctor Strange halfway, he estimated the Ancient One would even dare to fight him head-on.
That would indeed be troublesome.
Stephen Strange's eyes immediately dimmed. Then he suddenly remembered something and asked excitedly, "What are you doing here? Are you also looking for Kamar-Taj?"
"Actually, I've already found it—their people have been here all along," Martin grinned.
A person clad in a burlap robe slowly walked over, pulling down their hood to reveal a dark-skinned face.
"You didn't have to kill them. A harsh lesson would have sufficed," Mordo said, his face grim.
"I didn't kill them; they courted death themselves. Is that my fault? Are all the mages of Kamar-Taj such bleeding hearts?"
Martin chuckled softly and grabbed Stephen Strange.
"Where are we going?" Stephen Strange asked, his face full of confusion.
"Away from this idiot, and to heal your hands. I've helped you, so in the future, you must repay me well. Repay my kindness with everything you have."
Martin said.
**Chapter 73**
After many twists and turns, Martin dragged Stephen Strange into an extremely simple alley, eventually stopping in front of a dilapidated wooden door.
It was a small, broken door, weathered by countless storms and full of the marks of time.
"This is the legendary Kamar-Taj? The dwelling of Earth's strongest Humans?" Stephen Strange flinched, his face bitter, unsure if he was making a bitter smile or about to cry.
The strongest Humans live here?
Just this?
Mordo's voice was calm. "Many years ago, when I first came here, I harbored the same confusion and was filled with doubt, just like you. But as someone who's been through it, I'll offer you a piece of advice—forget everything you thought you knew."
With that, Mordo pushed open the small wooden door and gestured for them to enter. Martin simply stepped forward, being the first to enter.
Mordo frowned slightly, becoming increasingly displeased, but said nothing. He had come for Stephen Strange, for this Magic prodigy mentioned by The Supreme One.
Now, it seemed, he was greatly disappointed. This was merely a beggar from the roadside; never mind his Magic aptitude, his demeanor and courage were already far too lacking.
He had never seen Stephen Strange in his glory days before the injury, when he was high-spirited and arrogant.
The three walked through the small wooden door, and in that instant, the scene before their eyes completely transformed.
It was as if another world lay within: a spacious area with ancient buildings that maintained a mysterious beauty. He subconsciously turned back; the door they had entered through was long gone, and the crooked red-brick walls were nowhere to be found.
Entering the ancient buildings, they found a small number of "scholars" radiating an aura of profound knowledge, their movements gentle, their steps steady, emanating an air of wisdom.
In a way, mages were indeed knowledgeable; there was simply too much for them to study and learn.
*Bang!*
Martin pushed the door open forcefully, his actions crude. His gaze swept the room, found a chair, and he walked straight over to it, plopping down.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him.
"Don't mind me, carry on with what you're doing," Martin chuckled. "I'm here for the Ancient One, not for you."
"..."
Everyone silently watched him, watched Martin casually pull a book from a nearby bookshelf, then pick up a teapot and pour himself a cup of tea before leaning back in the chair.
Mordo took a deep breath, suppressing the intense fury within him.
Just then, everyone's expressions subtly shifted, their movements pausing. The atmosphere throughout the hall became more solemn, imbued with a sense of profound reverence.
A bald woman walked slowly towards them, her demeanor composed.
(end of chapter)
His gaze was incredibly deep. He recalled how, just moments ago, that immensely grand spirit had entered his mind, carefully instructing him to guide Stephen Strange to find Kamar-Taj.
In that instant, Professor X immediately understood that some of the seemingly specious legends from the past were true, and all the stories hidden behind what seemed absurd and mythological were indeed real.
"However, Martin also seems to be in the Himalayas. Those two..."
Professor X frowned.
He only hoped everything would go smoothly.
**Chapter 72**
Stephen Strange used up the last of his fortune, following Professor X's guidance, and journeyed all the way to the Himalayas. He then remembered that he should inform his loyal assistant, but after dialing the number, he realized it had been disconnected.
"A place even Professor X isn't sure about... Kamar-Taj..."
Stephen Strange clutched the note tightly with trembling hands. After much difficulty, he finally stepped onto this terrifyingly high-altitude land.
Terrifying gales constantly roared, cutting at him like knives. This made his already down-and-out state even more pathetic. He stood on the street, hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, gazing helplessly at the crowd.
Stephen Strange went to the market, holding the note in his hand, and asked everyone he met, "Kamar-Taj?"
Passersby shook their heads. Stephen Strange continued to ask, but still received no useful information, and his heart gradually grew cold.
At this moment, a group of hooligans surrounded him with ill intentions.
"Kamar-Taj?" Stephen Strange asked.
The next second, he was hit. With a *smack*, a slap mark appeared on his face.
"Kamar-Taj?"
"Look at this fool."
The hooligans began to grin sinisterly and started to snatch Stephen Strange's valuables.
"Another one's coming over there... his belongings are even more valuable!"
A sharp-eyed hooligan saw a young man in a suit getting out of a Beetle and immediately shouted.
The hooligans immediately rushed over, abandoning the poor Stephen Strange on the spot.
"Oh, are you planning to... rob me?"
The handsome young man stood ramrod straight. His black suit alone must have cost tens of thousands of dollars, and his black hair was meticulously styled; he practically had "rich" written all over him.
No wonder the local hooligans targeted him; he was practically a fat sheep waiting to be shorn.
"Hand over your valuables! Including those clothes you're wearing! Take them off, quickly!" the leading hooligan said in broken English.
Looking at these guys, Martin suddenly smiled.
Was there anything funnier than this?
These idiots actually wanted to extort him!
"You're courting death!"
A thug pulled out a knife and gestured menacingly at Martin's face, which was full of gentle smiles.
Martin's gaze swept past these idiots, landing on Stephen Strange, who was scrambling to his feet. He chuckled and said, "Sir, were you also extorted by them? When you travel far from home, don't you know to carry a weapon?"
"No... I didn't think that far ahead..." Stephen Strange was covered in dust and dirt, wiping away the blood from the corner of his mouth, looking somewhat timid, completely unlike his former confident and arrogant self.
"It's not too late to start thinking about it now," Martin said, maintaining his smile.
A hint of savagery appeared on the thug's face, and he savagely thrust his knife forward.
*Crack!*
The next second, the small thug's head was twisted off by Martin.
This was not a metaphor; it was literally twisted off. He held one hand on the shoulder and the other on the neck. Then, with a gentle application of force, like tearing a piece of bread, the man's head, like a twisted dough fritter, was torn off by Martin.
Blood splattered skyward, a dazzling sight.
Everyone was stunned into silence.
Martin clapped his hands, then spread them in a shrug, smiling at Stephen Strange. "See that? Sometimes, change is just that simple. People really are different."
Stephen Strange's eyes almost popped out, and fear surged through his heart.
The numerous small thugs looked at each other, covered in blood, their faces filled with terror. Finally, they shrieked and tried to flee for their lives.
"Bumblebee, kill them all."
Martin raised a hand and pointed.
The Beetle suddenly began to transform, quickly turning into a yellow Transformer. A Hand Cannon materialized, and with a roar, it instantly blasted these idiots into dust right on the street.
They were utterly vaporized.
This cold-blooded scene was witnessed by everyone, unfolding in mere seconds. Many people hadn't even reacted, and only after another moment did they scream and scramble away.
Martin calmly took out a handkerchief, wiped the blood from his hands, and slowly walked towards Stephen Strange.
Bumblebee followed behind him like a loyal guard.
[Bumblebee]
[Autobot Army's Reconnaissance Unit]
[Personality: Lively (Persistence +20%)]
[Height: 6.5 meters]
[Energy: 6 million]
[Chassis: Healthy]
[Combat Power: Level Three]
[Motto: #￥%# (A string of unintelligible noises)]
[Evaluation: The reconnaissance captain of the Autobot Army, the most outstanding Sentry. Though a small frame, he contains immense Energy within him.]
"You are... Martin? *The* Martin?! Professor X said you could heal my hands!"
Stephen Strange looked at Bumblebee, as if struck by lightning, instantly clearing his mind. The desire to heal his hands overwhelmed his fear of the unknown, and he asked, his face full of excitement.
Martin glanced at him. "Hmm, these hands are ruined? I can indeed heal them."
"Please, help me heal them! I'm willing to pay any price!!" Stephen Strange's eyes welled with tears, and he was almost on his knees.
God knows how much suffering he had endured during this time!
Martin stroked his chin, pondering seriously for a moment.
To be honest, for a moment, his heart truly wavered. Stephen Strange's Magic potential was too high, even higher than the Ancient One's! If Stephen Strange was given a few hundred years, and Martin personally gave him a Power-Up, truthfully, cultivating Stephen Strange into a Universe-tier Archmage wouldn't be difficult at all.
Alas...
"Unfortunately, the price you can pay is not what I need."
Martin's face showed regret.
If he were to poach Doctor Strange halfway, he estimated the Ancient One would even dare to fight him head-on.
That would indeed be troublesome.
Stephen Strange's eyes immediately dimmed. Then he suddenly remembered something and asked excitedly, "What are you doing here? Are you also looking for Kamar-Taj?"
"Actually, I've already found it—their people have been here all along," Martin grinned.
A person clad in a burlap robe slowly walked over, pulling down their hood to reveal a dark-skinned face.
"You didn't have to kill them. A harsh lesson would have sufficed," Mordo said, his face grim.
"I didn't kill them; they courted death themselves. Is that my fault? Are all the mages of Kamar-Taj such bleeding hearts?"
Martin chuckled softly and grabbed Stephen Strange.
"Where are we going?" Stephen Strange asked, his face full of confusion.
"Away from this idiot, and to heal your hands. I've helped you, so in the future, you must repay me well. Repay my kindness with everything you have."
Martin said.
**Chapter 73**
After many twists and turns, Martin dragged Stephen Strange into an extremely simple alley, eventually stopping in front of a dilapidated wooden door.
It was a small, broken door, weathered by countless storms and full of the marks of time.
"This is the legendary Kamar-Taj? The dwelling of Earth's strongest Humans?" Stephen Strange flinched, his face bitter, unsure if he was making a bitter smile or about to cry.
The strongest Humans live here?
Just this?
Mordo's voice was calm. "Many years ago, when I first came here, I harbored the same confusion and was filled with doubt, just like you. But as someone who's been through it, I'll offer you a piece of advice—forget everything you thought you knew."
With that, Mordo pushed open the small wooden door and gestured for them to enter. Martin simply stepped forward, being the first to enter.
Mordo frowned slightly, becoming increasingly displeased, but said nothing. He had come for Stephen Strange, for this Magic prodigy mentioned by The Supreme One.
Now, it seemed, he was greatly disappointed. This was merely a beggar from the roadside; never mind his Magic aptitude, his demeanor and courage were already far too lacking.
He had never seen Stephen Strange in his glory days before the injury, when he was high-spirited and arrogant.
The three walked through the small wooden door, and in that instant, the scene before their eyes completely transformed.
It was as if another world lay within: a spacious area with ancient buildings that maintained a mysterious beauty. He subconsciously turned back; the door they had entered through was long gone, and the crooked red-brick walls were nowhere to be found.
Entering the ancient buildings, they found a small number of "scholars" radiating an aura of profound knowledge, their movements gentle, their steps steady, emanating an air of wisdom.
In a way, mages were indeed knowledgeable; there was simply too much for them to study and learn.
*Bang!*
Martin pushed the door open forcefully, his actions crude. His gaze swept the room, found a chair, and he walked straight over to it, plopping down.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him.
"Don't mind me, carry on with what you're doing," Martin chuckled. "I'm here for the Ancient One, not for you."
"..."
Everyone silently watched him, watched Martin casually pull a book from a nearby bookshelf, then pick up a teapot and pour himself a cup of tea before leaning back in the chair.
Mordo took a deep breath, suppressing the intense fury within him.
Just then, everyone's expressions subtly shifted, their movements pausing. The atmosphere throughout the hall became more solemn, imbued with a sense of profound reverence.
A bald woman walked slowly towards them, her demeanor composed.
(end of chapter)
