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墨書 Inktalez
It was already deep into the night when Shasha left Stark Tower.
Perhaps it was due to not having drunk in a long time, but Shasha felt a bit dizzy.
Although America did not have strict laws against drunk driving, as someone who had once been a law-abiding citizen in a past life, he decided to hail a taxi to get back.
A taxi slowly approached from the next street and stopped for Shasha, who was waving.
The driver was a balding middle-aged white man with a friendly appearance, though he was somewhat talkative. "Buddy, walking around drunk at this hour is a dangerous thing. Last time I saw a guy stumbling down the road, he got hit by a car, and then the second one ran right over his head. By the end of it, his skull was nothing but fragments."
Listening to the driver's rambling, Shasha gazed out the window, his expression slightly dazed.
The city was bustling, but it wasn't quite like what he was used to. Although he had adapted to New York, he still missed those familiar faces and places. Even the bad memories were precious in their own way.
That's how people are; they only realize the value of something after losing it, especially when it can never be regained.
With a self-deprecating smile, Shasha withdrew his gaze and suddenly said, "Why aren't we taking Fifth Avenue?"
The driver paused for a moment, somewhat flustered as he explained, "That road is closed right now; they're doing some underground repairs."
"Is that so?" Shasha replied noncommittally, looking at the driver through the rearview mirror. He added coolly, "I don't want to go in circles anymore. Tell me who you are and what you want."
The driver sighed at this. "How did you figure it out?"
"I used to take taxis often before I bought a car, and I'm very familiar with the routes. They might not always choose the same path, but they never avoid Fifth Avenue and Rolling Street. Yet you chose this route that they all tend to avoid—Queens Boulevard."
Upon hearing Shasha's analysis, the middle-aged driver realized he could no longer disguise himself; his appearance underwent a dramatic transformation.
Dressed in a hooded black cloak, with strands of golden hair framing her beautiful face, she was a woman.
A flicker of surprise appeared in Shasha's eyes. After all, such an ability to change one's appearance was something only Mystique and certain mutants possessed. Could she be one of Magneto's people? But in the next moment, he dismissed that thought.
"Mr. Samar," she said coolly, "the esteemed Black Queen sends her regards."
It turned out she was from the core group of Hellfire Club's Black Queen. Shasha's gaze suddenly turned cold; after all, he currently belonged to White Queen's faction, and the two sides were in opposition.
"I don't seem to know you, Black Queen?"
Hearing Shasha's words, the Black Robed Woman smiled, "It's fine if you don't know me; you'll get to know me soon enough."
The taxi veered off its original route, driving across the Golden Gate Bridge and heading towards Los Angeles, finally stopping at a luxurious mansion in Beverly Hills.
Throughout the journey, Shasha did not speak another word to the Black Robed Woman, instead following her obediently to this place.
Because he wanted to confirm one thing.
"We've arrived, Mr. Samar." The Black Robed Woman showed no intention of getting out.
Seeing this, Shasha chuckled lightly; it seemed that the Black Queen wanted to meet him alone. He exited the car and walked through the gates guarded by two sentinels. Entering the grand hall that resembled a palace, he was led by a butler into the reception room.
There, Shasha saw a stunning woman, exuding an alluring charm. She had long black hair and wore a black dress that contrasted beautifully with her milk-white skin. Her figure embodied the golden ratio of femininity, radiating an irresistible allure at all times.
She was Selene, the Black Queen of the Hellfire Club—a woman who had lived for thousands of years.
"Chain Side Quest Three: The Puppet Master has been completed."
"Chain Side Quest Four: Foil the Conspiracy has been activated."
"You have found the puppet master; she is sitting right in front of you. She is constantly scheming, intending to become the most powerful woman in this world. Your task is to thwart her plans and make her realize that not everything is under her control."
"Optional Task: Eliminate Selene."
"Completion Reward: One Advanced Ability Extraction, 000 Energy Points. Choose an additional option reward: Black Cat Affection."
"Optional Task Two: Forgive Selene."
"Completion Reward same as above; choose an additional option reward: Selene Affection."
Indeed, it was this woman.
Combining Lao Xiao's advice with his own suspicions, Shasha had already suspected as much but still felt somewhat uncertain.
At this moment, he finally confirmed it. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated. With his current strength, could he really defeat the Black Queen organization? It was important to note that just the Black Queen herself was enough to give him a run for his money.
As Shasha was lost in thought, the Black Queen, who was lazily resting one hand on her chin while gesturing for Shasha to take a seat with the other, spoke up, "Mr. Samar, please sit."
Shasha settled into the chair across from her, crossing his legs casually. "I wonder what the renowned Black Queen wants with me?"
"Mr. Samar, you are a clever man," the Black Queen said, shifting her posture as she rested her chin on a different hand. "So let's speak in a way that befits intelligent people. What kind of conditions would you need to help me deal with that woman?"
Upon hearing this, Shasha understood perfectly well what she meant but feigned ignorance. "I don't know who you're referring to."
The Black Queen raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "With your current identity as the White Bishop, do you really need me to clarify her identity?"
It seemed she had done her homework thoroughly. Of course, how could she not have planted spies within the White Queen's team? She probably knew quite a bit about some of the White Queen's movements by now.
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