Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1049-1045 The Meeting Begins (First Update)

Aside from the decision to "hang all members of the Latvian royal family," the King of Latvian's policies were largely without fault. Having a wise dictator is advantageous because nothing is delayed by short-sighted fools. Salomon had long recognized Latvian's political value and, without hesitation, ordered their public execution, from legitimate sons to illegitimate children. Except for those too young who were either groomed by Salomon (actually sent to the Imperial Guard's reformatory) or abandoned to the Sorority, the clean and efficient massacre completely avoided any potential trouble, such as the absurd discovery of "exiled royal illegitimate children" in some valley. Latvian lacked the listless reporters and a barrage of foolish questions employed by rivals, so no one cared what happened after the execution of the Latvian royal family. "What's going on here?" Natasha Romanov drew a circle with her finger. "Your abilities?"

Salomon knew what she meant.

"This is my essence, my soul. I've accepted this fact for a long time, but I rarely show it. Judging from the current situation, it's going to ease up quickly, though I don't like it." He joked, then poured Natasha a cup of espresso vodka he'd made from an espresso capsule he'd taken from the capsule coffee machine—perfect for an after-dinner drink. "You'll understand better if you drink more; sometimes I find this ability quite annoying."

Natasha took the nearly frozen wine but didn't press for more details; if Salomon wanted to tell her, he would have already done so.

"Would you like to experience it in a jacuzzi?"

"Of course, there are still a few hours before the meeting starts, so you can get some rest."

The conference did not disrupt the lives of Viennese residents. Helmut Zemo drove along Route 14 from Lower Austria to Vienna, and after a short rest, he continued driving the van he had rented under a false identity. He crossed the artificial island of Danube from the Brigitte Nauer Bridge to the narrow peninsula in the southwest of Danube City, finally stopping in the Brigitte Bay area. He encountered no checks or hindrances during this time, as if it were just an ordinary day. He knew that unless he drove past the Papsvise Danube Park and Danube Park, directly to the Vienna International Centre and its surrounding buildings, he was unlikely to encounter any security personnel—it was a van carrying office supplies, with a United Nations Development Organization (UNIDO) pass on the window, and the UNIDO building was right next to the Vienna International Centre, belonging to the third of the UN complex.

Unless he encountered an extremely thorough search, Helmut Zemo's vehicle could park openly at the target location, but he knew he would never encounter such a thing. His powerful intelligence and investigative abilities allowed him to be fully aware of the loopholes in the security procedures for this meeting, including the price of every pen on the office supplies procurement list.

The UN's purchase price was more than double the market price, indicating that the company's owner had somehow reached an agreement with the purchasing staff in the building. This likely led to a relaxation of security regarding the delivery drivers, which is why Helmut Zemo chose to disguise himself as a target. The organization's operational plan even suggested that after parking the van at the designated location, he could go to the nearby Uno café for a hot tea, with a detailed menu in the appendix. Zemo initially thought the person who wrote this suggestion was joking, until his preliminary reconnaissance revealed that he could indeed choose this route for his escape and even have time to buy a hot drink. The escape vehicle he was to use had already been driven to a parking space at the Danube Cathedral a day earlier by an unknown driver, who had paid a hefty parking fee, enough to last him until he completed his mission.

"How thoughtful," Helmut Zemo muttered, stuffing his mission-related phone, which was displaying the remaining parking time, into his pocket before showing his identification to the gatekeeper. He wasn't wearing the mask at this moment, merely using standard disguise to evade surveillance cameras and security personnel. "Hubel's sick, so I'm covering for him today," he said with a smile in fluent German to the gatekeeper. "No complaints, that old drunkard's money is mine now."

"Do you have... well, let's not let anyone else see." Seeing Salomon pull out the Washington Post press pass, Natasha Romanoff swallowed her words. She glanced at the unfortunate man who had been kicked out for not being able to produce a pass, realizing the Washington Post wouldn't get the story this time. Salomon, however, was quite pleased with his prank. "Where are you planning to stand? Behind or to the side?"

Salomon pointed in a direction from which all the dignitaries at the meeting could be seen. "The Washington Post photographer is there; I'll go meet him later," he said. "The Washington Post always manages to find good spots, which is why I struck up a conversation with that reporter and stole his pass. To be honest, it wasn't difficult; in fact, it was rather easy."

“You’re not a real journalist.” Natasha Romanov first signed a document brought to her by a nervous staff member, while Salomon signed another document, effectively killing the journalist he was impersonating. “Besides, this is a very serious occasion with dignitaries from all over the world here.”

“It’s a bureaucratic ceremony, Natasha. Besides, the photographer doesn’t know who the reporter is; he’s never met him. I’ve done my research.” Salomon shrugged, appearing nonchalant. Natasha still couldn’t understand this man’s way of thinking. He seemed completely unconcerned about the consequences of being discovered impersonating a reporter, as if this meeting was some kind of amusing game. “Hey, my dear friend,” Salomon suddenly greeted someone, “I hope you won’t feel uncomfortable because of the discriminatory looks from some of the people here.”

“We anticipated this situation when we decided to maintain a facade, and as you can guess, we just found it amusing when it happened,” Prince T'Challa of Wakanda said with a laugh. He shook hands with Salomon, then looked at Natasha beside him. “Given your performance in Congress last time, you seem quite comfortable in this setting.”

"It's all an illusion. I don't like being the center of attention at all." Natasha shook hands with T'Challa. She had heard Salomon mention long ago that he and the Wakandan prince were classmates at Oxford. Although he was somewhat shorter than Salomon, T'Challa still appeared quite dashing. She hadn't realized that Salomon's presence beside her had diminished to the point where an ordinary person might easily glance past him. She hadn't even considered that Salomon's height and appearance might attract attention at the International Center, something that a cup of coffee, vodka, and a hot hydrotherapy bath couldn't make her forget. However, now her only thought was to prepare for the questions from the Wakandans—several Wakandans had been killed or injured by chance during the last mission led by Steve Rogers, and Natasha thought T'Challa would test her on whether she would abide by the agreement, how many members of the Avengers would do so, and whether the government would try to monitor the Avengers. Although she disliked T'Challa's veiled criticism, she was prepared to accept it. However, T'Challa did not bring up that topic, but deliberately skipped it.

"I'm so glad you could come, Miss Romanov."

"Why? Don't you support approving this agreement?"

"I support the agreement itself. But from a political standpoint, I don't really support it. Two people are more efficient than a hundred people here," T'Challa said, gesturing to the meeting participants. "This agreement has been delayed for three years; I can imagine what happened during that time. I learned about bureaucratic practices when I was studying at Oxford, and it seems there's no sign of improvement."

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(End of this chapter)