Marvel: The Sole Player

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Bohet Planet is a land of abundance, with an environment somewhat similar to Vanaheim, filled with a primal, natural scent and devoid of artificial traces.

Darian thought for a moment and decided to build a cosmic sub-Base here.

The sub-Base on the Moon was too far from the Interstellar space lanes, making every round trip quite inconvenient.

Bohet Planet was different; it wasn’t far from the space lanes, yet its location was remote enough to avoid discovery by outsiders, making logistics relatively easy.

Furthermore, there were no major powers stationed nearby, making it the perfect spot for a Base.

Having made up his mind, Darian waved his hand, and a large group of robots appeared out of thin air.

These were decommissioned First-generation Whiplash Robots. While their specs were significantly lower than those of Ultron Robots, they were perfect for manual labor like building a Base.

Although these Whiplash Robots were outdated models, their systems were still controlled by Ultron. Darian didn’t need to bother with commands; he could leave everything to Ultron.

On the other side, members of the Loot-Looters were dealing with the corpses of Necro-soldiers inside the Dark Aster, stripping off usable equipment and sorting it for recycling.

Bored, Darian borrowed some branches from Groot, who had just finished regrowing his body, and started a campfire.

Seeing this, the members of the Guardians of the Galaxy’s eyes lit up, and they immediately scattered into the nearby forest.

In a short while, they each brought back various wild game, skillfully cleaned them, then stripped more branches from Groot to sharpen into skewers for the meat.

Groot: (*)

Just then, Yondu and a few subordinates walked over from the Dark Aster, dragging a bound, blue-skinned woman.

"Leader, how should we handle this one?" Yondu pushed the person forward.

Darian looked and saw it was Gamora’s sister, Nebula.

After Nebula had been knocked out by Gamora earlier, she had been left in a corner and ignored; Darian had almost forgotten about her.

Darian narrowed his eyes: "She knows too much of our intel. If she goes back, she’ll definitely report to Thanos. Take her away and execute her."

Gamora, unable to bear it, spoke up: "Darian, she is my sister after all. Spare her life. Just cutting off her limbs should be enough to keep her from escaping."

Nebula: "???"

Are you even human!?

She hurriedly shouted in panic: "I won’t tell Thanos!"

"Why should I believe you?"

Darian was gnawing on a skewer, his mouth covered in grease, looking completely unrefined.

But Nebula felt a surge of pressure from Darian—the instinctive fear of the weak towards the strong.

On the Dark Aster, she had witnessed firsthand how Darian killed Ronan and exiled Corvus Glaive. Aside from Thanos, this was the first time she had seen such a terrifying person; he was an existence she couldn’t possibly resist.

She hurriedly explained: "Thanos hasn’t trusted me for a long time! He must have realized I was colluding with Ronan in private. Going back would be a death sentence; I wouldn’t dare return to his side!"

"Oh? What collusion? Let’s hear it."

Darian raised an eyebrow, suddenly interested. A piece of fruit appeared in his hand, and he took a loud bite.

Nebula hesitated for a few seconds. Knowing she would die if she didn’t tell the truth, she gritted her teeth and confessed: "Thanos sent Corvus Glaive to monitor Ronan because of rumors. I helped Ronan hide information about the Cosmic Orb and assisted him in seizing it secretly. In exchange, he promised to help me kill Thanos once he succeeded."

Good grief, just how many terrible things has Thanos done that both his daughters are hell-bent on betraying him?

Darian chewed on his fruit and chuckled: "That’s a decent reason, but how do I know if you’re telling the truth?"

Nebula didn’t speak. Her left eye socket suddenly popped outward, forming a playback device that projected a clear image into the air.

The image showed the scene of Nebula and Ronan colluding in secret.

Darian recorded and saved it, then nodded: "Alright, I believe you. Yondu, you can take her away and cut off her limbs now."

Nebula: "???"

Wait, why are you still cutting them off after I explained!

Nebula felt that Darian was even more terrifying than Ronan. At least Ronan was wary of Thanos’s power and didn’t dare act against her randomly, but Darian didn’t play by the rules at all.

She quickly said: "Wait, I want to join you!"

Darian raised an eyebrow: "Our Loot-Looters is a legitimate organization. You’re a daughter of Thanos and a galactic fugitive covered in red tape. Why should we let you join?"

Nebula’s lip twitched slightly.

Every single one of you is on the galactic most-wanted list, and you have the nerve to say that to her?

She took a deep breath: "I know the Cosmic Orb is in your hands. You’ll clash with Thanos sooner or later. I can provide you with all of Thanos’s intel, and I’m proficient in various skills. I will definitely be of help to you."

Darian pondered for a moment and nodded slightly: "Fine, I’ll give you a chance."

Actually, anything Nebula could do, Gamora could do too.

The problem was that Gamora was a member of the Guardians of the Galaxy, and those guys were all restless spirits who would leave the Loot-Looters sooner or later.

Besides, Darian didn’t want to keep them.

Quill’s ’idiocy virus’ was too contagious. Every member of the Guardians of the Galaxy was a carrier. If they stayed with the Loot-Looters too long, it would be disastrous if the other members got infected.

He didn’t want to lead a group of idiots around in the future; the thought alone gave him a headache.

Nebula could perfectly fill the vacancy left by the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Although her strength was a bit lacking, she was still a talent personally trained by Thanos, making her much stronger than the former Raiders.

Darian waved his hand, signaling Yondu to untie Nebula.

"From now on, you are an intern for the Loot-Looters. Once you’ve proven yourself, you’ll be promoted to a full member."

"Understood."

Nebula massaged her wrists and nodded.

She was a pragmatic person; when facing someone who could kill her with a flick of his wrist, it was better to be obedient.

Quill leaned in and whispered to Darian: "Do you really trust her? What if she’s a mole sent by Thanos?"

Darian didn’t care: "A mole is just a mole. What kind of waves can she possibly make?"

Quill thought about it and agreed.

Since even Ronan and Corvus Glaive had fallen at Darian’s hands, Nebula truly couldn’t stir up much trouble.

Of course, the standard procedures still had to be followed.

Nebula wouldn’t escape a single one of the Loot-Looters’ initiation rituals.

First, the ’high-tech and heavy-duty’ treatment was arranged, followed immediately by the Seal of Tongue-Root Eradication.

Even if she really was a mole sent by Thanos, she wouldn’t be able to utter a single word of betrayal.

The Seal of Tongue-Root Eradication didn’t just silence the mouth; it bypassed any method of revealing secrets, including scientific means like remote electronic transmission. The moment a thought of revealing a secret occurred, the seal would activate.

Darian patted Nebula on the shoulder. It felt rock-hard, consisting entirely of cold mechanical parts without a trace of human warmth.

He said casually: "Work hard. Maybe in the future, I can help you regain your flesh-and-blood body."

Nebula’s eyes widened in disbelief: "You... Are you serious!?"

Darian nodded: "Of course. I’m a mage. magic is omnipotent."

Hearing this, Nebula’s expression became excited.

She wasn’t a freak; how could she possibly like looking like this half-human, half-machine monstrosity?

She hated this body, but she couldn’t resist Thanos and could only watch as he reconstructed her step by step into this form, replacing most of her organs with cold parts.

She had two great wishes in life: one was to kill Thanos, and the other was to get her body back.

And now, Darian was actually telling her there was hope to change back.

Nebula took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down, and said seriously to Darian: "If that is true, I will serve the Loot-Looters unto death!"

Darian glanced at Nebula’s rapidly rising favorability and smiled without saying a word.

The ’big empty promise’ trick was old, but it worked like a charm.

Then again, now that both of Thanos’s daughters were on his side, if that old father Thanos found out, would he come charging over with his giant blade?

Darian thought for a bit and felt it was no big deal.

Since he had already exiled Corvus Glaive, Thanos likely already knew. He had already offended him fully; one more thing wouldn’t change much.

If Thanos really dared to show up, he’d have Quill perform an awkward dance while giving Gamora a French kiss right in front of him to see who would be more uncomfortable.

Thinking this, an ill-intentioned grin appeared on Darian’s face.

Quill, who happened to catch a glimpse, couldn’t help but shudder.

He was the person who understood Darian best; whenever this guy made that face, he was definitely plotting something wicked. He just didn’t know which poor soul would be the victim this time.

Darian looked down at the skewers in his hand. Thinking it was too slow to grill them one by one, he simply extended several black tentacles to grab a large bundle of skewers and grill them all at once.

Once they were done, he didn’t leave anyone out, even giving a portion to Nebula, who was still an intern.

The Guardians of the Galaxy crew were used to Darian’s cooking skills.

But when the others finished the barbecue, they were all blown away, feeling that all the food they had eaten before was simply trash in comparison.

Even stranger, everyone felt a sudden surge of endless energy, making them want to find work immediately; they couldn’t sit still for a second.

[Ox-Horse Barbecue: After eating, physical strength and mental energy are significantly boosted, but there is a side effect: the consumer must work hard to burn off this excess energy.]

Seeing the group running off to work as if they’d been injected with chicken blood, Darian nodded in satisfaction.

Since everyone liked it so much, he’d use this as the staff meal from now on.

Darian didn’t forget Hela.

He grilled a separate batch of skewers and teleported directly to Helheim.

Hela was sitting on her throne of skulls, one leg crossed over the other, maintaining a cold, unapproachable posture.

Seeing Darian appear, she looked up and said with a resentful tone: "Have you finally decided to come back and see me?"

Darian shivered: "Speak normally, don’t do that. You and I have a very pure transactional relationship."

As he spoke, he tossed the skewers through the air to her.

Of course, these weren’t the Ox-Horse Barbecue; he was afraid Hela would try to make him work after eating them.

Hela caught the skewers without hesitation and started eating them greedily; they were delicious.

Darian stared at her for two seconds, then suddenly asked a question: "By the way, have you ever brushed your teeth?"

Hela rolled her eyes: "Only you mortals fuss over such trivialities. We gods can use divine power to clean ourselves. Our teeth never decay, and our breath is always fresh. Understand?"

Darian suddenly understood.

No wonder every time Thor transformed, it was like he’d just taken a shower and blow-dried his hair; it was all thanks to divine power.

"Wait, then why do you look like this?"

When Darian first saw Hela, her hair was in greasy, tangled strands; he had assumed she hadn’t had a place to bathe for thousands of years.

Hela snorted and tilted her head: "I like it this way. Is that a problem?"

Darian shrugged: "Fine, fine, whatever makes you happy."

Once Hela finished the last few bites of the skewers, Darian leaned in and began learning magic from her.

To be honest, Hela knew quite a lot of magic and was very proficient in it.

Unlike her two brothers—one who only knew how to swing a hammer and the other who only knew how to play with daggers.

Hela’s specialty was Death Magic, a powerful ability to control corpses or even bring them back to life—a true god-level necromancer.

Unfortunately, this magic was like Thor’s Power of Thunder—an innate talent born within her. Even if Hela were willing to teach it, Darian couldn’t learn it. It would be like a bird trying to teach a fish how to fly; it was simply impossible.

Darian could only settle for the next best thing and pick a few practical spells to learn.

Hela warned him beforehand: "Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You mortals don’t have divine power, so you might not be able to learn Asgardian magic."

Darian waved his hand dismissively: "Just teach me. Whether I can learn it or not is my business."

Hela curled her lip but didn’t nag further and began the instruction.

A system prompt suddenly rang in Darian’s mind.

[NPC Hela Odinson is teaching you magic-related skills and knowledge. Do you accept?]

Whether reading books or being taught by an NPC, there was always a progress bar. Only when the bar was full would the skill be truly learned.

"As long as I can learn it."

Darian decisively chose to accept.

As Hela explained and demonstrated, the progress bar began to move forward bit by bit.

On the surface, Darian pretended to watch and listen intently, but in reality, none of it entered his brain; he was entirely focused on the progress bar.

Hela explained things quite thoroughly, breaking down every detail; she was surprisingly responsible.

After she finished, she looked at Darian and asked: "Did you understand?"

Darian glanced at the progress bar and saw it had only moved a little. He immediately shook his head: "I didn’t get it. Teach me again."

"Fine."

Hela hadn’t expected Darian to learn it in one go anyway.

She started from the beginning again, this time intentionally slowing down and being even more meticulous than the first time.

Darian nodded while peeking at the progress bar.

After the second time, the progress bar moved another small chunk forward, but it still wasn’t halfway done.

Hela asked: "Did you understand this time?"

Darian shook his head: "Still a bit confused. Let’s do it one more time."

Hela frowned: "Is this going to work? If you can’t learn it, don’t force it."

"Just teach me one more time. I’m almost there. I’ve probably got about 10% left to learn."

"Alright, alright."

Hearing this progress, Hela figured one more time would do it and immediately started teaching.

After the third time, Darian clapped his hands: "You’re a great teacher!"

"So you’ve learned it?"

"Almost. I’m just missing that last 1%."

"?"

Hela was bewildered: "Why is the learning getting slower?"

Darian quickly explained: "You should know that magic relies on comprehension, not rote memorization. Often you get stuck right at the threshold, and once you suddenly have an epiphany, it all clicks. The beginning is fast, but that last little bit is the hardest to break through."

Hela frowned and thought about it. Although she felt something was off, his words did make some sense.

Gritting her teeth, she began the fourth round of teaching.

This time she taught very quickly, clearly rushing, but she didn’t miss a single key point.

"And now?"

"Congratulations! This time it progressed by 0.9%. Now there’s only 0.1% left before I’ve completely learned it!"

"???"