The CIA (Edited)
"Moreover, Charles, it's crucial to understand that mutant abilities far surpass those of ordinary humans. Humans can be a selfish and cruel species. In the East, there's an old saying: 'If you're not of the same race, your heart must be different.' Fear, rejection, alienation, and ultimately, conflict are inevitable," Alex remarked, casually swirling the red wine in his hand.
"I understand, I understand," Charles replied with a hint of dejection. "But war brings destruction and harm. I... I just don't want to witness all of that."
"Well, if that's your vision, I can assist you," Alex turned to Charles. "A peaceful, gentle realization of evolutionary change, achieving harmony, and ultimately eliminating confrontation is an ideal state. Though it may seem impossible, if that's what you wish for, I can help."
"I have my goals too, don't I? I want to provide shelter for all of our kind. When they're weary or wish to abstain from the human-mutant conflict, I can offer them solace—a place, a new home, our own Garden of Eden," Alex chuckled lightly.
"Thank you, Alex!" Charles raised his head, smiling at his friend. "You, my friend, have been quite the lazy one since I've known you. Your power is formidable, stronger than any other mutant. Your Copying Ability is akin to cheating, considering normal mutant abilities. With your help, I believe humans will accept us mutants."
"No, no, it's not laziness. When there are revolutionary pioneers like you, all I need to do is guard the rear, right?" Alex chuckled again. "Here's to our friendship."
"Cheers!" Charles clinked his glass of red wine with Alex's and took a sip.
"Huh? Trouble's on the horizon!" Alex and Charles simultaneously looked towards the door, where a capable and beautiful woman stood—a CIA agent from America.
"I detest trouble. Charles, it's all yours. This fellow was probably headed for you at my Stark Manor. How long has it been since someone cared? You bring trouble home the moment you arrive," Alex said as he reclined on his lounger, appearing utterly at ease.
"It's merely a coincidence, and besides, don't you have a housekeeper in your manor?" Charles responded, unfazed.
Soon, the capable and beautiful woman approached the swimming pool with a smile, nodding to the five individuals. "My name is Mike. Mike Gretel. I hope my arrival won't disrupt your day."
"I might have to deduct the housekeeper's salary. While the presence of a beautiful lady is always welcome, Miss Gretel, it's clear that I didn't invite you," Alex said, raising his wine glass and gently swirling the bright red liquid within, releasing a refreshing aroma.
"Your housekeeper is very capable, Mr. Alex," Grete replied, producing a document and waving it towards Alex. "I was allowed in because your butler recognized this document."
"Wow, CIA!" Alex couldn't help but smirk. "The CIA."
Turning to Charles, he added solemnly, "Did you see that, Charles? My dashing looks have already attracted the attention of the CIA."
Charles burst into laughter. "Alex, you're so shameless that you've caught the CIA's eye!"
Emma emerged from the pool, her laughter bubbling like a playful stream.
"You dare to mock your man, and you won't escape retribution tonight," Alex teased with a mischievous grin. Emma responded by swiftly diving back into the water, her laughter echoing through the air.
Dripping with pool water, Jessica approached Alex with an inviting smile. After savoring a sip of red wine, she shared a passionate kiss with Alex before passing the wine over.
Alex's large hand rested on Jessica's hip, tracing the well-defined curves of her body. Over the years, Jessica had maintained her gymnastic prowess, resulting in a physique that was both enticing and sculpted.
Grete, with a trace of disdain in her eyes, made her presence known as she emerged from the shadows. She held a particular aversion to Alex, branding him as a playboy. The air crackled with a mixture of playful banter, seductive undertones, and a subtle tension introduced by Grete's disapproval.
"Look at Alex, your charm has dimmed in comparison to Charles!" Raven, exuding confidence, seated herself on Alex's lap. She casually commandeered his wine glass, took a sip of the red wine, and cast a sly smile in Alex's direction.
In response to her bold move, Alex's irritation surfaced, prompting him to playfully slap Raven's backside.
"A man's allure is about substance, not just looks," he retorted, defending his stance on what truly mattered.
Charles, seizing the opportunity to showcase his wisdom, looked up at Alex with an air of superiority as he rose from his recliner. "In this world, it's not about appearances, but about talent."
Unfazed, Alex couldn't resist scoffing at Charles' perspective. "No, no, Charles. That's because you've got nothing but talent. Women crave both talent and good looks, and I happen to be that kind of person." His chuckle echoed, infusing the room with light banter.
"Alex, you remain shamelessly yourself! And, it's rather superficial, you know. You don't see the depth within," Charles countered, offering Alex a grateful look. He extended his hand to Grete, suggesting they converse away from the playful banter that filled the air.
"Very well," Grete agreed, ready to delve into a more meaningful discussion, away from the lighthearted exchange that surrounded them. The dynamics of their banter added a touch of humor to the scene, showcasing the camaraderie and distinct personalities within the group.
(End of this chapter, with sparks of playful banter and underlying tension)
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