Conquering the Multiverse Starting with the Black Robe

wow-

After flushing the toilet, Hughie turned on the tap and washed his face. The cold water splashed on his face, and his tense nerves relaxed a little, but his stomach cramped slightly. This was nausea caused by extreme fear. The next second, he leaned on the sink and dry heaved.

"Oh...fuck..." Hughie rinsed the drool from his mouth.

Butcher pushed open the door, carrying a bottle of liquor. Without saying a word, he handed the bottle over. "Drink up, kid. This stuff will make you feel better."

Hughie took it, gulped it down, and choked, spitting out half of it. It felt like he'd swallowed sulfuric acid. "Cough cough cough, what the hell did you give me to drink?!"

"Holy water." Butcher smiled slightly, took back the bottle, and took a sip himself.

Hughie's eyes were bloodshot as he looked at Butcher, his voice hoarse, "He seems to know everything about each of us, yet we know nothing about him. Are we just supposed to believe whatever he says?"

"Yeah, he really is a super-powered 'Gestapo'..."

Butcher wiped the alcohol stains off his beard, leaned against the door frame, his eyes darting around, a hint of reminiscence in them. "My father was an alcoholic who would beat and scold me all the time, so I became a little bastard when I was young."

Back in school, there was this brat named Claude who didn't get along with me. We often fought, but I usually won; he couldn't beat me.

He paused for a moment, then continued, "Then a transfer student came in, and he was even more of a jerk. That little bastard not only messed with me, but he also messed with Claude. He didn't respect anyone. Neither of us could beat him in a one-on-one fight; he took turns pinning us to the ground and beating us up for a week."

Butcher's lips curled up, as if he had remembered something funny. "Later we made a truce, cornered that bastard in the toilet, and ganged up on him and gave him a good beating. He never dared to bother us again."

Hughie listened intently, then waited a moment before noticing Butcher had already raised the bottle to her lips; the story was clearly over. He frowned deeply. "Uh… Butcher, I'm glad you shared these childhood anecdotes with me. So you're saying the enemy of my enemy is my friend?"

"No." Butcher glanced at him sideways. "What I'm trying to tell you is, don't put yourself in the position of facing two enemies at the same time. The one you should deal with first is the one you fucking hate the most."

Just then, Rean's urging voice came from outside the restroom door, "Once we've finished our business, you two will have plenty of time to talk about love."

Butcher shoved the bottle back into Hughie's hand, patted him on the shoulder, and gave him a sly smile. "Good luck, kid."

"Thanks, Butcher." Hughie sighed and raised his bottle.

……

"vomit--"

Hughie knelt on the waterlogged ground and almost vomited up his stomach acid.

He had fantasized about transforming into Superman and soaring through the sky, but after this experience, he felt that solid ground was more suitable for him.

After dry heaving for a while, Hughie wiped away his tears and the rain on his face with his sleeve, stood up unsteadily, and found himself standing in front of a closed iron gate.

"Hughie, you know about cryptocurrency, right?" Rean stood next to him, straightening his clothes that had been ruffled by the wind, and asked softly.

"Of course." Hughie's voice was still a little weak, and his stomach was churning. "What's wrong?"

Rean gazed at the distant manor and said meaningfully, "We're going to meet a generous investor next."

"You know Knight Tyker?" Hughie's eyes widened. "Fuck, he's a billionaire who runs the largest private prison in the United States."

"That's right." Rean's lips curled up slightly. "He's an important figure, and someone we're about to recruit."

Rean led Hughie to the front door.

The access control system flashed red, and a cold electronic voice announced, "Visitor identification failed. Please leave a message."

Instead of barging in, Rean gently rang the doorbell.

A few seconds later, the surveillance camera in the upper right corner of the gate rotated slightly.

Rean waved a friendly hand at the camera. "Smile, Hughie. Stop with that deadpan look on your face. This isn't a funeral."

"Hahaha..." Hughie immediately broke into a bright smile, but it looked worse than crying.

A Black voice came from the loudspeaker at the entrance: "I'm sorry, gentlemen, the Knight has already gone to rest. Whatever you have to say, you'll probably have to wait until tomorrow."

Rean said calmly, "You can tell him that the person visiting is a 'villain.' He will see me."

On the other end of the monitor, the black butler and the guard in the monitoring room exchanged a glance. "Please wait a moment, sir. I need to consult with the knight."

A short while later, the manor gates made a soft clicking sound and slowly slid open to both sides.

A black, extended Lincoln pulled up, and the driver, dressed in a suit and holding an umbrella, got out of the driver's seat, respectfully opened the rear door, and bowed slightly, saying, "Mr. Villain, please get in. Butler Elijah instructed me to pick you both up."

Rean glanced at Hughie. "See, that's the benefit of fame."

"Reputation? You killed Xuanse, and you think you're a good person?" Hughie was so speechless that he leaned back.

Rean glanced at him, raised an eyebrow, and said, "First of all, I think this counts as doing a service to the people. Secondly, a bad reputation doesn't mean you can't make friends. In the arena of self-interest, the standard of judgment is never good or bad, but rather whether you can be used or not. Someone like you, a piece of trash with no influence, as insignificant as an ant, who would care how many good deeds you've done?"

Hughie pursed his lips. He always felt that Rean was deliberately belittling him, but he had to admit that there was some truth to it.

In the past, he would have definitely refuted the other party, but after thinking it over and reviewing what he had experienced tonight, his worldview was shattered, and he finally came to a bloody conclusion—whoever has the biggest fist holds the power of discourse.

Locomotive did all sorts of bad things, but he still lived a good life, didn't he? It's because Walter was backing him up.

The two got into the car one after the other.

Hughie hadn't recovered from the shock of the high-speed flight. His face was pale as he leaned back in the leather seat, looking out the window at the scenery.

The car drove along the manicured garden driveway, and after about three minutes, a magnificent mansion came into view.

In front of the mansion, Elijah, the black butler, stood ramrod straight, dressed in a tailcoat, having been waiting for some time.

The car came to a stop, and Elijah personally went to open the door, bowing and smiling, "Mr. Villain, welcome. The Knight has been waiting for you in the living room for quite some time."

"Okay, lead the way." Rean took off his hood, too lazy to be polite with a servant.

As Hughie entered the hall, he looked around like a country bumpkin who had never seen the world before. This was understandable, as any one of the oil paintings and antiques hanging on both sides of the corridor was worth half a lifetime's salary.

Hughie suddenly stopped and pointed to an oil painting hanging at the end of the corridor. "My God, is this a painting by Bruegel?"

Elijah flashed a gleam of white teeth, a reserved yet proud smile spreading across his face. "The real deal. This is a treasured item acquired by the Knight's grandfather in his early years. It seems you have a profound appreciation for art."

Rean glanced at it indifferently, unable to discern any artistic merit. It was probably just for money laundering, and the nude women in the paintings in front of him were more pleasing to the eye.

Reception room.

The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, casting a perfect warmth over the entire room. Robert Vernon stood up from behind a mahogany table, his face beaming with a warm smile.

"You've really made a splash tonight, Mr. Villain. I never expected you to come visit me; it's an honor."

He opened his arms and quickly came to meet him.

"Nice to meet you." Rean gave Hughie a gentle push, and the two hugged.

Knight Tyk patted Hughie on the shoulder and looked at the person in his arms. "And who is this?"

Hughie snapped out of his daze and quickly reached out to shake his hand. "Hughie, it's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Haha, me too." Robert's smile remained unchanged as he shook hands with him, but his gaze remained fixed on Rean. "Elijah, could you please get a towel for this guest? He's almost frozen."

"I saw the news report and I really didn't expect you to be so young. You might not know this, but you're already a well-known figure in our industry."

As he spoke, he picked up the wine glass on the table, looked the composed young man up and down, his gaze lingering on the handsome face, a barely perceptible glint of heat flashing in his eyes, and his finger began to circle the rim of the glass.

"Oh? What do your friends say about me?" Rean sat down on the sofa next to him, shaking the champagne the waiter had handed him, looking quite interested.

The host gestured for Hughie, who was drying his hair, to sit down, while he himself sat down opposite Rean. "We think you're awesome. You're the first person I've ever met who dares to openly go against Walter."

You know, wealthy people like us have long enjoyed all kinds of luxury and find life boring. We admire someone as 'interesting' as you.

"Interesting? I personally killed Xuan Se. Don't you consider me a dangerous person?"

Knight Tyk paused for a moment, then laughed. "Don't worry, I won't report you to Walter. Although I have some working relationship with Walter, I don't need to curry favor with them."

Rean placed the wine glass on the coffee table, leaned forward slightly, and smiled knowingly. "Aren't you afraid at all that I'm sitting here? As far as I know, your abilities are support-type, and your direct combat capabilities are practically zero."

The man maintained his smile, a bead of cold sweat sliding down his temple. He subtly winked at the butler serving beside him. "You're joking, aren't you? We have no grudge against each other, why should we be afraid of you?"

Rean, too lazy to beat around the bush, cut to the chase: "Alright, enough with the fluff. I need money right now, and you happen to be a very famous and rich bastard. That's why I'm here."

Knight Tyk could no longer maintain his composure. His smile froze, and his eyes twitched slightly. "You...you fucking want to rob me?"

"You can think of it that way." Rean dropped the pretense, stood up, and looked down at him condescendingly. "But I'd rather you see this as an 'investment.' I won't take your money for nothing; I'll give you something in return. It's a win-win situation."

Tek Knight rubbed his temples, smoothing his brow, and forced himself to remain calm. "Wait, you're confusing me. What investment? You want me to be your partner?"

Are you trying to tell me you're not alone, but leading a bunch of lunatics like yourself, preparing to bomb Vought Tower like on 9/11?

Hughie, who was listening nearby, was terrified and couldn't help but look at Rean.

"Pretty much, but we won't go that far." Rean nodded calmly. "As a gesture of goodwill, I can help you break free from Walter's control."

Rean stared into his eyes and said, word by word, "I know your little secret. You talk a good game, but in reality, your family is nothing but a puppet controlled by Edgar. The private prison you built is to help him arrest anyone they want to imprison."

"Disobedient superhumans, political enemies on the opposite side, disruptive journalists—whoever blocks Walter's path to wealth will be sent to your prison. The profits you make are nothing more than bones that Walter throws at you."

Knight Tyk was silent for a few seconds. "I don't know where you heard these rumors from. What's the difference between working for Walter and submitting to you?"

It sounds like it's just a change of boss. At least Walter won't point a gun at my head and force me to sign an unfair contract.

What makes you think you have me figured out?

"I could make one phone call and Walter would send Homelander over to kill you in the blink of an eye."

Rean laughed, a deep laugh that sent chills down Hughie's spine.

"Because I will give you a reason that you can't refuse."

Your words have reminded me that as a "terrorist," one doesn't need to worry about so many things when doing things.

If you don't agree, I'll take your head.

Even if Homelander is fast, it will still take him time to get here. Do you think you're more resilient than Invisible Man? I can't help but wonder, how long do you think you can last against me?

Robert's expression finally changed. Faced with such unreasonable and outrageous behavior that directly violated the rules of the game, he suddenly realized that he had no way to deal with Rean.

His long-term pampered life had numbed his senses, causing him to overlook a fact he should have noticed—

This is America, nobody knows what will happen next, and he's a complete weakling; plenty of people could threaten his personal safety.

He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, regretting not spending money to hire a few superhuman bodyguards to protect him, which led to him now being at the mercy of others.