Marvel Magic Event Book

Chapter 1749

It took Laura Crawford several months to figure out the true nature of the Brotherhood of the Shield.

This is a cult with the goal of saving the world. Its members include sages from various eras and countries, from the famous astronomer Zhang Heng to Newton, the greatest scholar of modern times. All of them signed the Euphrates Pact. The cult covers fields ranging from science and theology to art, and all the disciplines that the Brotherhood of the Shield believes are necessary for the future of humanity. It intends to control all aspects from reason to emotion.

Laura Crawford believed that it was fortunate that such an organization was destroyed, otherwise it would have become like Trinity, an organization that colluded with the powerful and wealthy, filled with the stench of elitism, money, and arrogance.

However, as a historically significant organization, the Brotherhood of the Shield provided her with a wealth of research material, the most important of which was the so-called dragon. But even after scouring all the scribes' books depicting armed rabbits and snails with human faces, the stone tablets buried beneath the earth, and the papyrus so fragile it would be destroyed by a breath, she still couldn't find the answer regarding dragons. As the core of the Brotherhood of the Shield, the Euphrates Pact records humanity's first salvation and describes its enemies, but it doesn't answer the question of what kind of ferocious beast the founders of the Brotherhood of the Shield slew.

Later, the Brotherhood of the Shield absorbed many members, and some of the theologians among them simply made far-fetched connections between the sea monster that destroyed human civilization and the seven-headed, ten-horned red dragon in the Bible. The Brotherhood of the Shield's scriptures were undoubtedly considered pagan worship by the Roman Catholic Church, but for the theologians absorbed into the Brotherhood, these scriptures allowed them to recognize earlier that the Jewish scriptures originated from much older texts and legends.

They, too, could not explain the contents of the Euphrates Pact. The few chosen ones who witnessed the ruins beneath the Immortal City also chose to remain silent. Laura Crawford only knew that the so-called dragons seemed not to breathe fire, nor even fly. Salomon, as one of the parties involved, refused to answer questions directly, as if revealing the answer would lead to some catastrophic consequences.

“Some knowledge, even if you only hear about it, can be corrupted. The knowledge you are about to encounter will chase you like a hound chasing its prey; you cannot refuse to accept that information,” Salomon told her. “The protection I give you will ensure you are not harmed, but that kind of knowledge is not something you can simply refuse. You have been to the Kamar-Taj Library before, but that was filtered, safe knowledge.”

“You’ll protect me, won’t you?” Laura Crawford chuckled mischievously. “I knew that the moment I set foot on that resort island. Do you like my bikini?”

Salomon smiled and nodded, as if he were breathing again, something so vast it couldn't possibly fit into a human body slowly evaporating from within him. This was a side effect of using large amounts of extradimensional magic; he didn't need the ascetic to bear it for him, he needed a normal human life.

“Your next vacation is in an hour. Bayonetta is arranging a short break, the last time you can enjoy the beach and sun this year, and then I’ll be gone for a long time.” Salomon raised an eyebrow, and Laura thought he was about to stick his tongue out and make a face. “You can take a shower; there’s a bathroom in my office with a big bathtub… and it has handrails.”

“I will tell Winston that I will not be going back to the manor this vacation, and tell him not to worry.”

Laura Crawford blushed slightly; she knew the purpose of the bathtub grab bars.

She often enjoyed hot baths and red wine with the witches, though Salomon and the witches were equally enthusiastic about their pleasures in the hot tub, where the handrails were quite useful. At first, she would blush and run back to her room, but after her South American island vacation, she participated in every activity as an observer. The thought of getting closer and closer to Salomon and the witches, until she became a participant, yearning for their caresses and suckling, made her heart race and her mouth dry.

“You can come with me,” she said with difficulty, opening her mouth. “I can smell your scent…like wet feathers and rocks.”

Salomon also pushed the documents aside.

These matters are to be handled by Viktor von Doom. He's going to cut off the enemy's head with his sword, not be trapped in complex agreements and bizarre politics. To maximize the use of the nation's resources, Viktor von Doom is now pushing for a system of governance that penetrates deep into the grassroots, digging out the deep-seated self-organizations of the local society—a process that often encounters resistance. After all, not all enemies wear conspicuous disguises and shout "I am the enemy!" on the battlefield, and the emperor's sword doesn't always find the enemy. Relevant documents are always copied and tossed onto his desk; in reality, much of what he sees has been processed by Viktor von Doom. This isn't some political avoidance, but rather the regent wanting him to reach out and touch the inkwell, to clearly understand what lies beneath his throne.

They are about to enter a chaotic era in which maintaining production and reproduction will cost a lot of money. The policies that Viktor von Dum is implementing now are an experiment for the future expansion of Yugoslavia (which will later be called the Byzantine political entity). They need to quickly digest all the occupied territories and then unearth those previously overlooked forces.

He didn't care about the specifics; as long as Viktor von Dum could maintain the supplies for the army, he didn't care about anything else. All he wanted now was a good night's sleep and to enjoy intense, sweet pleasure—only then could he appear human, since he didn't have much time left.

“Dina has chosen a bottle of champagne, perfect for enjoying during a hot bath.” Salomon nodded to the android maid beside him. “The bathtub can fit three people.”

A smile finally appeared on Diana's face, which had been expressionless the whole time.

“I’ll get it ready, my lord, and Sponge too. You need a good bath.” Her smile was incredibly sweet, one that Laura Crawford had never seen before; she had always assumed Dinah was expressionless. She had absolutely no idea of ​​Dinah’s origins, and no one intended to tell her—in the archaeologist’s worst fantasies, Maya Hansen’s genetic lab was terrifying enough.

“Don’t forget the honey and olive oil,” Salomon added. “That’s Bayonetta’s favorite flavor.”

"Are you planning a business trip?" Laura Crawford quickly changed the subject, pulling the conversation away from the ambiguous atmosphere. "Where is your destination?"

"Asgard, I may have to participate in an interstellar war."

“That’s going to be really interesting,” Laura said excitedly. “I can’t wait to see the artifacts of Asgard!”

“You’ll be satisfied,” Salomon winked. “I’ll be back before the hot water overflows.”

Laura pretended not to understand his double entendre.

He stood up from behind his desk. “The Immortal City has another guest to attend to. If you don’t talk to him, he’ll buzz around you like a fly.”

"Mr. Fly" stood there dumbfounded, carrying several heavy Walmart shopping bags. Inside the bags was the Secretary of State the Pentagon had been longing for. At least part of him; the rest needed further processing. According to researchers, the Pentagon certainly wouldn't give up on its attempt to weaponize the Hulk, so it wouldn't be surprising if their methods resembled a slaughterhouse, as forensic camouflage was still required.

Without a doubt, Tony Stark vomited. As a mechanical engineering expert, he was somewhat unfamiliar with flesh and blood. "Are you satisfied with my gift?" Salomon asked, arms crossed, leaning casually against the wall.

Tony Stark noticed that the researchers passing by seemed oblivious to the brightly dressed man; only he could see the arcane sorcerer clad in a deep red robe. "An old dog can't learn new tricks," Stark scoffed, tossing down his shopping bag. "Is this invisibility, or have you messed up my brain?"

“I simply got them focused on their work and ignored me, that’s all. A little psychological suggestion, no side effects.” Salomon chuckled, tapping the side of his armor. “Turn off the environmental monitoring system. Do you think I’d let you find the Immortal City?”

"I already guessed it, this is an underground city."

"You have a very keen eye."

“Don’t laugh at me, Salomon. I can analyze the air to determine the city’s location.”

“I have confidence in the electrostatic air filtration system, Stark. Stop with the childish tricks. I won't give you any other negotiating terms, nor will I reveal any information about this city to use as bargaining chips,” Salomon said. “Once you get what you want, I'll send you back. Where do you want to go? The Malibu Beach estate or Stark Tower in New York?”

“I want to try the restaurants here. You know, if I post on social media which restaurant I’m eating at, it’s going to go viral.” Salomon stared blankly at Tony Stark, his piercing eyes seeming to penetrate the latter’s visor and go straight into his heart.

“Okay, okay, it’s my fault.” Stark had to take off his helmet, looking embarrassed. “I just wanted to find a place to talk to you properly. You’ve done something so terrible, there are countless people all over the world who want you dead…”

Salomon's expression softened somewhat.

"In some ways we are similar, so we are destined to be irreconcilable because we both consider the safety of this world our responsibility. You and Steve Rogers are also similar; neither of you can trust the institutions currently in power, but you believe you have the ability to change this power system… Rogers sees things more clearly than you. He knows that a country built for profit cannot be easily changed. Even during the Civil War, which was fought against slavery and for the liberation of Black people, Northern factory owners could use child labor while opposing slavery. If you want to be a moderate reformer, the result will be falling into the trap of the vested interests. Your supporters will also oppose you under their instigation—you know their level of education is limited to the narratives of social media and official media, coupled with the pollution of various opioids and lead-contaminated drinking water, they probably will have a hard time understanding your motives—no matter how lofty your aspirations are, in the end they cannot withstand the smell of ink from the US dollar."

Stark moved his lips, wanting to say something, but he realized his education hadn't covered this area. So he was speechless; a whole host of rebuttals he wanted to voice were stuck in his throat. Salomon could tell what Tony Stark was thinking. "I admire your creativity, Stark. The interstellar war I'm about to participate in will be accompanied by military observers from several partner nations. Once they return to Earth, they'll confirm the alien fleet's approach, and these nations don't include the United States. Do you know what that means?"

“I can protect them,” Stark finally said, as if emphasizing to Salomon, “I have that ability.”

“I hope so.” Salomon nodded. “The alien fleet might land in two locations: Australia and North America. As long as you can provide Yugoslavia with a low-interest loan and spot rare metals, I can share real-time intelligence about the alien fleet with you. Spot, not futures. The financial numbers game will collapse after the alien fleet arrives, and then the numbers on the books will not represent real wealth.”

Stark's breathing became heavy. "This is smuggling."

“It’s just a game on paper, and we only need to keep it a secret until the alien fleet arrives. At that point, whether it’s members of Congress or tycoons, they’ll only be thinking about saving their own lives. The shock to the financial system will be the least of their worries. 'Making the people believe they are protected' will be the last thing we need to do to stabilize the financial system,” Salomon asked. “So, what’s your decision?”

"Fuck!" Tony Stark finally couldn't hold back and began to mutter a curse.

The anxiety that had once vanished returned, suffocating him. He desperately wanted to ask this seemingly young man, who was actually the oldest on Earth, what his solution was, but his pride wouldn't allow it—he had said he was capable of solving this problem. Now, having finally managed to let go of his fear of the Chitauri's massive invasion, he was faced with the reality that "the Chitauri are nothing but worthless cannon fodder; the real main force is about to arrive." Stark didn't even know if he would suffer from insomnia when he got back.

He cannot admit defeat; this is not a matter of pride, but a fundamental clash of ideologies.

He could only try to find support from another direction. After all, it was hard for him not to feel confident in front of Salomon. This was the same situation he faced when he was facing Steve Rogers, whom his father described as incredibly brilliant. Tony Stark always wanted to prove that he was better than the other man.

"Does the old man know about this?"

“I’ll take him with me, no application needed. I recently discovered something interesting: Steve Rogers and I were on the same battlefield, but we didn’t even know each other back then. You know, old people always tend to reminisce.” Salomon wore a mischievous smile, watching Tony Stark roll his eyes repeatedly. “Welcome to the Interstellar War Military Observation Group, Stark. You’d better come up with a good excuse first, in case Congress finds out you’ve boarded my warship…”

"How much time do we have?"

"At most six months," Salomon said. "My fleet is too small; it can only hold off the Dark Order's fleet for six months, preventing them from traveling faster than light."

"When to set off."

"Seven days later, some more equipment will be loaded onto the ship."

“I’ll tell Pepper,” Tony Stark hesitated. “She’ll definitely call you.”

"I know, I won't be angry."