Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

"Wahahaha!"

Milkhak had just been given enough life force to restore his body, and apparently the experience had done more than cure him. It had turned him into a human firework.

He threw his head back and roared with laughter, eyes bulging with disbelief. Then he ripped the medical patches and IV lines from his body, flipped cleanly off the bed, and immediately started sprinting around the room.

"Ha! Hahaha! Thank you! Thank you, everyone!"

He ran laps around the house with both arms spread wide, looking like an athlete who had just won the championship.

Then he spotted Natalia.

He scooped his daughter into a bear hug and planted several enthusiastic kisses on her cheek.

"Thank you, sweetheart! Thank you for taking care of me all this time! You never left my side!"

Natalia was still trying to process what was happening when her father shot away again.

It was as if someone had held down the Shift key and broken it.

A moment later, Milkhak reached the two bodyguards who had been drained until they resembled dried corpses.

He dropped to his knees.

Then he burst into loud, heartfelt sobs.

"Thank you for your noble sacrifice! You can rest now! Don’t worry! I’ll take care of your wives!"

Natalia stared at him.

Milkhak suddenly sprang upright.

"Ha!"

He jumped into the air, spun 180 degrees, and landed in a dramatic superhero pose.

"Give these two a proper burial!"

He pointed at the corpses.

"Actually, strip them naked and dump them in the mountains. We can’t let anyone identify them as ours!"

Before Natalia could even answer, Milkhak snatched up a stack of newspapers.

He tore them apart while scattering the pieces through the air like confetti, singing at the top of his lungs.

Natalia’s mind had officially stopped functioning.

She slowly turned her head toward Evenson.

Everything else could wait.

She just needed one answer.

"What is wrong with my father?"

"Uh..."

Evenson scratched his head awkwardly.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he watched the shirtless, heavily bearded old man sprinting around the house like a man who had just discovered youth for the first time.

Watching Milkhak behave like this was profoundly uncomfortable.

It was like using chili sauce as eye drops.

"Too much life force," Evenson admitted. "He’s a little overexcited. Give him some time and he’ll settle down."

"Oh."

Natalia nodded blankly.

Then Milkhak finished shredding the newspapers and started whipping a blanket through the air while shouting something about Joseph being victorious and celebrating some incomprehensible score.

Natalia swallowed.

"How long is ’some time’?"

"Not that long... probably."

Evenson covered his eyes.

At this rate, he might be able to change careers and become a Demon Hunter.

He really should have kept a little of that life force for himself.

The reason was simple.

When Evenson drained the two bodyguards, he hadn’t absorbed their life force into his own body. He had simply held it in his hands.

There were two reasons for that.

First, if the life force passed through his body, it would inevitably pick up traces of fel energy.

Milkhak wasn’t strong enough to handle that kind of power yet.

Second, Evenson had intended to give all of it to Milkhak from the beginning. He hadn’t planned on keeping even a fraction.

After all, Milkhak’s body might have looked as though only half of it had been destroyed, but that didn’t mean he only needed half a person’s worth of life force.

People weren’t sandwiches.

You couldn’t slice one neatly down the middle and expect the two halves to function independently.

When one part of a living organism became diseased, the rest suffered as well.

In Milkhak’s case, half his body had effectively died. And not the upper or lower half, either. The damage had divided him vertically, leaving the right side of his body devastated.

That meant nearly every organ in his body had been operating at roughly half capacity.

Under normal circumstances, someone in that condition should have died long ago.

Yet Milkhak had remained alive.

His surviving organs had been forced to do two jobs at once: keep him alive while simultaneously pumping nutrients into the dead half of his body.

The strain had pushed them to the brink of failure.

Healing Milkhak therefore required more than simply restoring the dead tissue. Evenson also had to repair the remaining organs that had been worked nearly to death.

That required a great deal of life force.

Apparently, two healthy adult men had provided a little more than necessary.

Evenson glanced toward the first hints of sunrise creeping over the horizon.

Judging by the way Milkhak was still bouncing around the house, it was going to take a while for him to burn through the excess.

"Ha-ha-ha..."

Milkhak suddenly stopped.

His entire body went rigid.

Then he collapsed to the floor with a heavy thump, like a machine that had abruptly lost power.

"Father!"

Natalia rushed over in alarm.

She rolled Milkhak onto his back.

His eyes were closed.

But he was breathing.

Natalia finally released the breath she’d been holding.

She looked back at Evenson.

"What happened?"

"What do you think?"

Evenson rested his chin in one hand and yawned.

"He finally burned off all that excess energy. He’s been bouncing around the house all night and half the afternoon. I swear he ran at least two marathons."

"...Hrrk."

Milkhak suddenly sucked in a deep breath.

His eyes snapped open.

Then he immediately raised his right hand.

He stared at it.

The flesh was whole.

Healthy.

Normal.

"I’m cured!"

He burst into delighted laughter.

Natalia’s heart clenched.

Not again.

Had the treatment left some kind of permanent psychological damage?

Fortunately, Milkhak didn’t leap up and start running again.

Instead, he looked strangely bewildered.

"I had a strange dream, daughter."

Natalia helped him sit up.

"In the dream, I became a snow wolf. I was running across the endless Siberian tundra."

Natalia’s expression became difficult to describe.

She wasn’t sure what to say.

Maybe her father had simply watched too many videos before going to sleep.

Then again, snow wolves and huskies did look rather similar...

"Please," Evenson said from the sofa, waving without turning around. "Just treat it as a dream."

Frankly, he had no desire to revisit what he’d witnessed during the previous night.

"You’re here."

With Natalia’s help, Milkhak slowly stood.

He was still deeply afraid of Evenson.

But after a lifetime spent surviving among dangerous people, Milkhak understood something important.

He was alive.

That meant he still had value.

If he’d been nothing more than a useless old man crying for help, he suspected there wouldn’t have been anything left of him by now except a patch of grass growing over his grave.

"Unfortunately, my servants seem to have become rather careless."

Milkhak looked around at the wrecked room.

"It seems they didn’t notice how much of a mess the place became while I was bedridden."

Natalia silently covered her face with one hand.

"Daughter, go get the vodka and Black Sea caviar from the refrigerator. We can’t be rude to an honored guest."

"Uh..."

Natalia opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

She looked profoundly conflicted.

Thankfully, Evenson saved her the trouble.

"Have some of mine."

With a casual gesture, he produced a bottle of vodka and a jar of caviar.

"Very well."

Milkhak nodded.

A man of Evenson’s stature probably had particular tastes. Perhaps he’d simply brought his own food because he didn’t trust what was available here.

Milkhak walked toward the coffee table.

Then stopped.

Something about those items looked strangely familiar.

Especially that bottle of vodka.

Wait a minute.

You were putting on airs this whole time?

Your taste wasn’t any different from mine!

Milkhak sat down and composed himself.

"I am Russian," he said bluntly. "We Russians are straightforward and direct people, so I’ll ask without wasting your time. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"That’s an excellent quality."

Evenson nodded.

"It’ll save me quite a bit of time."

Good.

Finally.

He still had to figure out how he was going to explain staying out all night to Claire.

"You’re an arms dealer. Other than weapons, what exactly do you think you can offer me?"

"Weapons?" Milkhak asked. "What kind of weapons do you want?"

Evenson’s eyes flickered.

He deliberately drew out the pause.

"I want..."

A smile spread across his face.

"An update."

Milkhak blinked.

Evenson immediately corrected himself.

"No, wait. A broken arrow."

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