Chapter Four: What Race Are You?

Two days passed swiftly. That afternoon, around one o’clock, Harvey donned his cloak, shrouding his entire body, and released a chilling, sinister aura. Concealed beneath the cloak, he slipped out of his home, heading toward the rendezvous point specified by the individual who had posted the bounty.

In his daily life, Harvey would have driven or flown to such a meeting. But when he assumed the identity of the Reaper, anonymity was unnecessary. In less than an hour, Harvey reached the appointed place.

He surveyed his surroundings and listened intently, discovering that, aside from three distinct life energies inside the building, there was no one else within. Yet, at a distance, several figures loitered, their gazes occasionally flickering in his direction. Though dressed like unremarkable office workers in suits and ties, their life force far exceeded that of ordinary people; their physical prowess was beyond the norm.

Harvey could not discern a person’s identity at a glance, but he was able to judge strength by the quality of their life energy. Absorbing these individuals would grant him a wealth of evolution points, but Harvey had no intention of killing without cause—unless a contract demanded it.

From their attire, he surmised three possibilities: plainclothes FBI, mercenaries, or agents of some kind. But he did not dwell on the details; he would soon learn the identities of those who wished to meet him. Compassion was not a luxury he afforded himself as a mutant. If anyone directed overt hostility his way, or attacked outright, he would not hesitate to kill.

Descending from above, Harvey dropped to the sixth floor, peering through a window at a striking red-haired woman and two others within the room. Having recognized them, Harvey phased through the glass and entered the room itself.

Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, and Natasha Romanoff were all waiting for the mercenary known as the Reaper. Harvey materialized in the triangle formed by their positions.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” His voice sounded abruptly, causing all three to spin around. Natasha, acting on pure instinct, drew her pistol and aimed at the source of the voice.

The towering, black-cloaked figure radiated a chill that seemed to freeze the very air. Natasha, upon seeing the ominous figure, could not help but feel a bead of cold sweat trickle down her forehead. Nick Fury’s solitary eye narrowed sharply. Coulson, too, drew his weapon, his eyelid twitching at the sight—though his training as an agent kept his composure intact, the involuntary swallow betrayed his inner turmoil.

Nick Fury assessed the cloaked figure and thought that, save for the absence of a scythe, this man perfectly embodied the Reaper. He knew he had found the right individual—a superhuman of formidable power.

“You must be Mr. Reaper,” Fury began. “I’m Nick Fury, the one who contacted you on the dark web. Would you mind if we sat down and talked?”

Harvey, without a word, moved to the sofa and sat. To Fury, Natasha, and Coulson, the shadowy figure seemed to appear instantaneously.

“This is our first meeting; your reactions were instinctive, so I’ll overlook them this time,” Harvey’s voice was cold, edged with warning. “But in the future, if you not only aim your guns at me but actually fire, I will consider it an act of hostility—and you will be my enemy.”

Natasha and Coulson broke into a cold sweat at his chilling words.

Hearing these blunt remarks, all three immediately labeled the Reaper as extremely dangerous in their minds. Fury, a veteran agent who had once dealt with Captain Marvel, understood the true power and peril of superhumans. He quickly composed himself, forced a friendly smile, raised his hands slightly in a gesture of peace, and slowly walked to the sofa opposite Harvey.

“We have no intention of making an enemy of you, nor any plans to open fire. Please, let’s discuss this calmly.”

Only once seated did Fury lower his hands.

“Regardless of our discussion, since you’ve summoned me, a retainer of at least ten million is required,” Harvey stated plainly. “I trust you’ve come prepared—I would hate to leave empty-handed.”

“Of course,” Fury nodded, having already learned of the Reaper’s rules. He had only made contact after securing the funds, unwilling to risk his own life if the negotiations soured.

At Fury’s signal, Coulson lowered his weapon and opened several briefcases stacked nearby, displaying bundles of cash inside.

Harvey, seeing the money, knew Fury had come well-prepared. He could guess at Fury’s true intentions for arranging this meeting.

“Very well, let’s talk,” Harvey said. “Assassination, elimination of troublesome enemies, theft of important documents, escorting persons—any task is possible. What is it you want to hire me for?”

He treated Fury as just another client, making no comment on the latter’s true motives.

“Mr. Reaper, allow me to formally introduce myself,” Fury began. “I am Nick Fury, Director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. I requested this meeting to discuss matters beyond the reach of ordinary understanding.”

Natasha and Coulson remained silent, knowing that until the Reaper agreed to join them, further details would be inappropriate.

“Compared to the memorable and easy-to-pronounce FBI, your department’s name is quite a mouthful,” Harvey remarked dryly.

This quip drew a touch of awkwardness to the faces of all three super-agents. Fury feigned a cough to ease the tension and then continued seriously.

“Yes, the name is rather long. We’re considering abbreviations or a change. But names are unimportant compared to what I’m about to tell you. Mr. Reaper, though I am not familiar with the full extent of your abilities, I believe you to be a superhuman, confident in your own power. However, no matter how strong you are, I assure you the world you know is but a fraction of the whole.”

Fury began his well-practiced pitch, intent on recruiting Harvey for the Avengers Initiative.

Harvey, though not omniscient in Marvel matters, knew enough to understand the full scope of events—he was well aware of all this.

“You’re suggesting that your so-called Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division knows more than I do?” Harvey replied calmly, betraying no emotion.

“Precisely. But let me warn you: you must be prepared, and think on a grand scale, to accept what I’m about to say.”

“We have yet to truly explore the universe, which harbors unknown alien civilizations. In fact, they have visited Earth once before. Fortunately, a superhero known as Captain Marvel helped us repel their invasion. Had we failed, humanity’s fate would have been dire beyond imagining,” Fury declared with conviction.

“That hardly requires psychological preparation,” Harvey responded, unmoved. “If superhumans like myself exist, alien life should not be surprising. And regardless, they cannot harm me.”

This was not merely because Harvey knew the Marvel universe; in any world, the presence of superhumans meant that powerful nonhuman species—aliens—were only natural. For example, in the League of Legends universe, various intelligent races existed, and from a human perspective, they too were aliens.

Fury was momentarily taken aback by Harvey’s response—he was not playing by the usual rules. Most people, when told of an alien invasion repelled only by a hero, would feel awe, if not reverence, for the savior of humanity. Why was the Reaper so utterly unfazed?

Then a thought occurred to Fury. Studying the enigmatic figure, he asked cautiously, “Forgive my bluntness, Mr. Reaper, but where are you from? What species are you—human, or something else?”

The question gave Harvey pause, sending him into contemplation.

If he considered his past life and the circumstances of his transmigration, he was undoubtedly human. But with the help of the Void System, he now possessed the limitless evolutionary abilities of the Void, and an ageless existence whose span he could not even guess. He could wholly transform into the terrifying visage of the Void Predator Kha’Zix, growing even stronger, and in time would acquire more powers of the Void.

So what was he now—human, or Voidspawn?

Harvey had never truly pondered this question. Now, he gave it serious thought.

Fury, Natasha, and Coulson, seeing the Reaper fall silent in apparent reflection, grew increasingly uneasy.

Natasha and Coulson had heard Fury speak of Captain Marvel, and knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. possessed some alien materials and technology. They believed in the existence of extraterrestrials. But belief was one thing; neither had ever actually encountered one. And if this dangerous Reaper turned out not to be human, if he had no attachment to Earth or humanity, then exposing his identity could trigger a deadly confrontation at any moment.