While Van En was still pondering Pierce's motives and the implications of the meeting, another notification suddenly appeared on his encrypted terminal. Someone was requesting a private communication channel.
The sender's name made him raise an eyebrow.
Madam Euphemia Sarkiss of Hydra.
Van En frowned slightly. He had not interacted with this dangerous woman very often. Their territories and operations rarely overlapped, so their contact had always been limited.
Euphemia's influence was concentrated on Madripoor Island in Southeast Asia, a small but strategically crucial location guarding the Strait of Malacca. Despite its modest size, the island thrived on international maritime trade and served as one of the busiest ports in the region.
Wealth flowed through Madripoor constantly.
But like many places built on trade and opportunity, the wealth was unevenly distributed. While luxury towers and corporate offices lined the waterfront, enormous slums sprawled across the poorer districts.
Madripoor had also developed a reputation for its unusually lenient legal system. Because of that, countless international fugitives, criminal tycoons, smugglers, and mercenaries had chosen to settle there.
The island's infamous Lowtown district was practically a lawless territory.
All kinds of people gathered there, gangs moved freely through the streets, and underground markets operated day and night. Intelligence trading, advanced technology trafficking, weapons sales, narcotics distribution, and even human trafficking were commonplace.
In many ways, Madripoor had become the unofficial crime capital of Southeast Asia.
And despite the chaos, Euphemia Sarkiss effectively ruled it.
Her Viper Gang was the largest criminal organization on the island, and she maintained close relationships with the local ruling class. Anyone capable of clawing their way to power in a place even more ruthless than Hell's Kitchen—and doing so while being an extraordinarily beautiful woman—was clearly far from ordinary.
"Beep."
The connection request activated.
Van En accepted the call.
"Oh, my dear Miss Euphemia, it's been far too long," he said immediately in an exaggeratedly formal tone. "I've missed you terribly."
On the other end of the line, Euphemia froze.
A few seconds passed before she finally responded cautiously.
"H-hello?"
Van En continued cheerfully. "I'm doing wonderful today. And how are you?"
Euphemia fell silent.
For several seconds, the communication channel contained nothing but awkward quiet.
Eventually she rubbed her forehead, clearly trying to regain her composure.
"Mr. Vann," she said slowly, "I'm contacting you because I need some help."
"Sure," Van En replied casually.
There was another pause.
"…You're not going to ask what the help involves?"
Van En leaned back in his chair.
"Will it hurt me?"
"…No."
Euphemia sighed in frustration.
"Anyway, I'm looking for a mutant," she said. "I've received information that she's currently in New York, and I'd like you to help capture her."
"No problem," Van En replied instantly. "What's her name?"
He spoke with the relaxed confidence of someone who believed New York belonged to him.
"Just ask around," he added lazily. "Whether this city is chaotic or peaceful depends entirely on me."
Even the street vendors wouldn't dare argue with him.
If Young Master Vann smoked half a cigarette on a street corner, the surrounding blocks practically belonged to him.
"She's a mutant," Euphemia continued. "A young Black woman named Domino."
The moment he heard the name, Van En felt his heart jump.
Domino?
"You may have difficulty capturing her," Euphemia added. "I'll send some of my people to assist you. You should listen to their advice."
She continued explaining carefully.
"And when you move to arrest her, you should bring a large number of people. Only by surrounding every possible escape route can you guarantee success."
"My team has already failed several times because we underestimated that factor."
Van En blinked in disbelief.
"What kind of ability does this mutant girl have?" he asked.
Euphemia remained silent for a moment before answering.
"She's lucky."
Van En's eyes widened slightly.
Of course.
That was exactly who he thought it was.
Domino.
The mutant whose power was pure probability manipulation.
If things continued like this, the Marvel universe's most notorious chatterbox might appear soon.
No.
That absolutely couldn't happen.
Van En immediately began planning in his mind.
Someone had to find her first.
And if there was still time…
Maybe stitch her mouth shut.
He would gladly pay for the surgery.
"Do you agree to cooperate?" Euphemia asked when she noticed his silence.
"Of course," Van En replied smoothly.
"Then what compensation would you like?"
Van En shook his head slowly.
Money had long stopped meaning much to him.
His personal assets already exceeded ten billion dollars, and that figure did not even include the hidden wealth of his divine kingdom.
Instead, he thought about something else.
Madripoor Island was home to one of the largest black markets in the world.
And one particular commodity occasionally appeared there.
"I'd like to purchase some vibranium," Van En said calmly. "Would you be willing to help?"
Euphemia frowned slightly.
"Vibranium is an extremely rare metal," she replied. "Even on Madripoor Island, information about it only appears occasionally."
She thought for a moment before continuing.
"I'll keep an eye out for you. If any news appears, I'll inform you immediately. Is that acceptable?"
"Deal."
The call ended shortly afterward.
Van En leaned back in his chair and quickly understood Euphemia's reasoning. The more manpower involved in hunting Domino, the greater the probability of capturing her.
Under normal circumstances, Pierce would have been her first choice for cooperation. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resources were far more powerful than Van En's network.
But after Pierce proposed forming the Hydra Supreme Council, many people were becoming cautious.
While Van En was still considering the situation, another communication request appeared on his screen.
Baron Zemo.
Van En raised his eyebrows.
This was someone he had barely spoken to before. In fact, he knew almost nothing about Baron Zemo's background or capabilities.
The man was extremely cautious.
Too cautious.
The call connected.
Van En immediately noticed the woman sitting beside Zemo.
The same woman who had appeared during the earlier meeting.
Clearly, the reason for this call had something to do with her.
"Baron," Van En said calmly, "what brings you to chat with me today?"
"Mr. Vann," Zemo replied in a steady voice, "there is something I'd like to ask you."
Van En did not answer immediately.
Instead, he examined the woman sitting beside him.
"And this is…?"
Zemo remained silent.
The woman raised her head slightly.
"My name is Cynthia Schmidt," she said.
Her voice was calm but carried faint urgency.
"I'm searching for a book my father left behind. I was wondering whether Mr. Vane might know anything about it."
For the second time that day, Van En was stunned.
Cynthia Schmidt.
Red Skull's daughter.
Looking for a book.
And working with Baron Zemo.
An uncomfortable thought immediately formed in his mind.
Zemo seemed to notice his reaction and explained briefly.
"I owed Cynthia a favor in the past," he said. "That is why I agreed to help her."
Van En rubbed his forehead slowly.
After several seconds, he sighed.
"Let me guess," he said. "The book you're searching for isn't called the Book of Skulls, is it?"
Cynthia and Zemo both turned slightly toward each other.
"You know this book?" Cynthia asked quickly.
Van En waved his hand dismissively instead of answering.
"Let me guess something else," he continued. "You're searching for this Book of Skulls because it contains clues to a… hammer. Am I right?"
Even though the video feed obscured her face, Van En could still see Cynthia's clear surprise.
Zemo, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware of the deeper context.
"How did you know?" Cynthia asked.
Van En leaned back and sighed heavily.
How would I know?
Because this world clearly isn't just the Marvel Cinematic Universe anymore.
Who exactly added all this random nonsense into the setting?
Seriously.
Did anyone think about how the people living in this universe would feel?
If he ever found the culprit responsible for mixing these storylines together, he would absolutely beat them senseless.
"Mr. Van En," Cynthia pressed, "did you guess anything else?"
"That's all," Van En replied weakly. "My father told me this story when I was a child. That's the only reason I know it."
The two people on the other end of the call nodded slowly.
Whether they believed him or not was impossible to tell.
But Van En no longer cared.
In his previous plans, Thanos had always been the ultimate threat.
Now another potential enemy had appeared.
They might not possess the overwhelming power of Thanos wielding the Infinity Stones.
But in terms of danger…
They could be even worse.
The difference was like comparing a government family-planning officer with a serial killer.
Both were dangerous.
But one was far more terrifying.
Perhaps realizing he would not reveal anything further, Zemo and Cynthia ended the call themselves.
Van En had barely risen from his chair when another incoming request appeared.
Dr. Zola.
Van En felt a headache forming instantly.
What is wrong with Hydra lately?
These people had spent years hiding in the shadows without making a sound.
Now they were all calling him one after another like sales representatives chasing monthly quotas.
"Beep."
The call connected.
"Dr. Zola," Van En said tiredly. "How are you today?"
Unlike the others, Zola did not appear as a blurred human silhouette.
His image consisted entirely of pixelated patterns.
That was because Dr. Arnim Zola had abandoned his physical body long ago and existed purely as digital consciousness inside Hydra's networks.
"Mr. Van En," Zola said calmly, "I've heard you've been actively acquiring Hammer Industries recently."
"Is that a problem?" Van En asked.
"Of course not," Zola replied smoothly. "I was simply curious whether you have obtained Hammer Industries' robotics technology."
Van En suddenly understood.
After spending so long existing purely as data, Zola clearly wanted a physical body again.
He wanted to walk.
"To stretch his legs," so to speak.
"Of course," Van En replied. "Doctor, are you interested in commissioning a custom body?"
Zola's pixelated face displayed what looked suspiciously like a smile.
"I would like to order a mechanical body," he said.
He paused before adding calmly.
"But if your robots satisfy me, the order will not be limited to one or two units."
"It may be hundreds."
"Or even thousands."
Van En stared at the screen with disbelief.
"Old man," he said slowly, "even you're starting to play dirty now?"
.....
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