"Breaking News! The Mutant Affairs Bureau has launched a thunderous anti-crime operation overnight, with the X-Men wiping out no fewer than 112 gang dens in a single night!"
"The underworld empire has crumbled in one sweep!"
"Grant King: Hero, philanthropist, or crime lord in disguise?!"
"Madness! The X-Men have arrested so many criminals that the NYPD reports a shortage of prison space!"
"A breath of fresh air: New York City recorded its first day ever without gunshots or crimes!"
One report after another blasted across screens, shaking the entire city awake. Headlines dominated both television and online platforms.
"According to the latest reports," one newscaster said breathlessly, "the X-Men have submitted all gathered evidence to Catherine Bergett of the 17th Bureau. You may recall she became nationally recognized for solving the President's assassination attempt last year!"
"Analysts boldly predict that Catherine Bergett is now a top contender to become the new NYPD Commissioner!"
Not everyone was thrilled.
The FBI Commissioner stormed onto the scene, lambasting the X-Men for overstepping their legal bounds and carrying out unauthorized enforcement.
And yet, the praise didn't stop.
"That wasn't all," continued another anchor, her voice trembling with excitement. "The notorious Red Fang Society, a major drug trafficking organization, was also dismantled last night. Their leader, Evelyn Shaw, has been handed over to the NYPD. It's rumored they were involved in more than narcotics—human trafficking included!"
And then came the global gossip.
"Unconfirmed sources claim a meteor strike in Japan last night devastated the Red Fang Society's overseas headquarters. Some say it was divine retribution. Others whisper that a powerful Mutant took vengeance—but no Mutant group has claimed responsibility."
"To complicate matters," added the reporter, "more than one terrorist group has declared they orchestrated the attack."
By morning, Twisted City residents rubbed their eyes and checked their phones, baffled by what they were seeing.
"No crime… in Twisted City?" one resident muttered aloud.
Disbelief swept the streets. Most people's first reaction was to scoff. In a city notorious for its glitz and madness, a crime-free night seemed like a bad punchline. The contrast between the city's decadent facade and its underlying chaos had long been an open secret. Crime was a daily inevitability—until now.
Could the X-Men really have wiped out 112 gangs in one night?
Too ridiculous to believe—until the evidence came in.
The Mutant Channel posted a new video, edited skillfully by Alice. The footage avoided graphic violence but depicted the X-Men operating with surgical precision. Six squads weaved through city alleys and warehouses, storming and neutralizing gang strongholds. In each scene, high-ranking criminals were detained and arrested without mercy.
By dawn, the captured were gathered in front of NYPD's headquarters like a symbolic monument to justice.
"Six squads took down 112 dens in one night?"
"That's like 18 or 19 each!"
"What kind of monsters are these guys?!"
"If the NYPD or FBI had half that efficiency, this city wouldn't be in shambles!"
"No wonder the air smells sweet today—every other thug in town must be hiding under their beds!"
"The establishment of the Mutant Affairs Bureau is the best decision this country has ever made!"
"X-Men, we salute you!"
The internet exploded. Citizens celebrated. People in other cities were green with envy.
After all, who lives in a crime-free city nowadays?
Most agreed that while crime could never be eradicated completely, this was a damn good start.
Soon, waves of online petitions began flooding in from across the nation, demanding local governments coordinate with the X-Men for similar crackdowns. The reputation of the X-Men, and the Mutant Affairs Bureau, had soared to new heights.
The Mutant threat narrative? Silenced.
For the first time in history, the winds had changed.
"You're exceeding your authority!"
Inside the NYPD's 17th Bureau conference room, the tension was thick. Officials from every major agency were present: the NYPD's director, the FBI's contract division head, a representative from the mayor's office—even a state congressman.
Everyone wore a scowl.
"The Mutant Affairs Bureau was created to monitor and manage Mutants," barked the NYPD Director. "You have no jurisdiction over ordinary citizens' crimes!"
He slammed the table with his palm.
"Last time, you asked us to assign a detective for assistance with the presidential assassination case. That was a courtesy. But this time? You acted unilaterally and dumped all the suspects at our door!"
His eyes locked on the White Queen, Emma Frost.
"That's clearly a stunt to hand all the credit to Catherine Bergett! She's just a superintendent! Since when does she dictate how we operate?!"
Emma Frost, reclining in her chair with composed elegance, merely raised an eyebrow.
Once upon a time, she would've responded by transforming into diamond form and kicking the speaker across the room.
But things had changed since she'd joined Joseph.
She'd learned a new tool: diplomacy.
And she was starting to enjoy it.
"Director Seles," she replied calmly, "you yourself acknowledged that our jurisdiction includes all crimes involving Mutants. Am I wrong?"
With a flick of her fingers, she projected several images and video clips onto the room's screen.
"Tell me, are these individuals Mutants or not?"
The footage showed several of the gang members resisting arrest—some hurling projectiles with inhuman accuracy, others demonstrating brute strength or elemental control.
One clip showed Bullseye training by throwing everyday objects—pens, stones, needles—at fast-moving targets, each landing with unerring precision.
Another depicted Grant King, fists smashing through walls, his tonnage and force well beyond human limits.
"Grant King isn't a Mutant!" a voice from the mayor's office protested.
Emma didn't flinch. "Mr. Sanders, do you personally know any regular citizen who can pulverize reinforced concrete with their bare hands?"
"Uh…"
Silence.
"Even if Grant King is a Mutant," snarled the FBI representative, "you went after all 112 dens! Most of those thugs were normal people!"
"You used superpowers against civilians, injured hundreds, and killed dozens!"
"That's a crime!"
Emma's response was sharp.
"Mr. Smith, you seem to misunderstand how law enforcement works."
Her eyes gleamed. "Correct me if I'm wrong—but don't NYPD officers have the right to use lethal force if they encounter armed resistance during an arrest?"
Smith's jaw clenched.
He wasn't stupid. He already understood that the real reason the White House greenlit the Mutant Affairs Bureau was to buy time—to prepare for a possible Mutant uprising.
But intentions didn't matter now.
The Bureau was established.
Its law enforcement powers were real.
And its impact was undeniable.
"Damn those fools in Washington," he cursed internally.
Outwardly, he said, "If you've truly arrested Grant King and found evidence linking all his subordinates to crimes, why did you only seize so little money?"
"You expect us to believe a drug and smuggling empire built over a decade had only a few hundred million in cash?"
He slammed a report on the table.
"If the Bureau is legitimate, explain where the rest of the money is. Or was this just a chance to line your pockets?"
The room fell quiet.
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Smith, all seized assets were turned over to the NYPD. Every cent."
"That's absurd!" he exploded. "Three hundred million in cash?! What about offshore accounts? Gold? Crypto?!"
Emma shrugged. "We targeted Mutants. We raided Grant King's dens. Once he was in custody, our mission was complete. If you want to chase his hidden assets, be my guest."
Smith's face turned beet red.
He slammed the table again.
"Grant King said he forgot everything! We even used Veritaserum—he wasn't lying! He genuinely forgot!"
"And Evelyn Shaw—she admitted to every crime the Red Fang Society committed but couldn't remember a thing about their finances!"
"This can't be a coincidence!"
Emma Frost tilted her head.
"Sounds like trauma. Maybe they need therapy?"
She stood up, adjusted her coat, and picked up her purse.
"The Bureau has turned in all criminals and evidence to the NYPD. What happens next is your responsibility."
She turned to leave but paused.
"Oh, and I have a meeting at the White House. We're proposing a new joint city-police-Mutant initiative. The name's too long, but you get the idea."
She walked out, heels clicking.
Behind her, the officials seethed.
"You have no authority to make proposals like that—"
Emma turned her head.
Her gaze chilled the room to silence.
"The Mutant Affairs Bureau isn't just a watchdog agency."
Her voice dropped to a cold whisper.
"The FBI has branches in every state. We're merely initiating an anti-crime campaign. What's stopping us from doing the same?"
The room froze.
Only now did the gathered elite realize what they were dealing with.
The Mutant Bureau wasn't a decoration.
Its power had never been hidden.
And it had just made its first real move.
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