Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1051 (First Update)

Salomon walked towards the grief-stricken T'Challa, expressionless, completely ignoring the Wakanda King's Guard surrounding him. The Sorority followed closely behind, their guns pointed at the King's Guard. If the King's Guard made any move that threatened the monarch, the girls carrying fusion weapons would not hesitate to pull the trigger, using the high-temperature shockwave of nuclear fusion to wipe everything out, vaporizing the Wakanda King's Guard and the future king. Even vibranium couldn't withstand such temperatures. It wasn't that they unintentionally carried these cumbersome anti-armor devices; it was intentional—Victoria Hand had already begun her operation when the bomb detonated, ensuring the entire plan ran smoothly and achieved his desired outcome.

“I’ve already called the security forces stationed in orbit to bring the King back to Wakanda in a spacecraft. I’m going to take control of the situation now; you must return to the throne.” Salomon nodded to the King’s Guard, giving them space to escort the prince and king away. He stepped onto the shattered platform and abruptly raised his voice. “Everyone else, sit down!”

The previously noisy hall fell silent instantly. Everyone involuntarily returned to their seats as instructed, even the political figures who had tried to escape were forcibly pressed back into their seats by an unknown force. "No one may leave until everyone here is cleared of suspicion. I really didn't want this to happen. King T'Chaka of Wakanda originally wanted to give you a gift, but your malice rejected it. After King T'Chaka's speech, Latvinia, as a loyal ally, would also present you with a different gift, but unfortunately, you missed out on the sweet treat. You proved that you only deserve to receive malice. If you had paid attention to the gift list mentioned by Regent Latvinia, you would know what you were about to receive."

He raised his hand, and in an instant, the shattered glass returned to its original position, and the entire conference hall was as good as new.

Salomon asked the Sisters to help the King's Guard move the body, and he even brought a crimson linen cloth to wrap it. Hammurabi stood beside him, holding the military standard, his greatsword ready to fire at any moment, because, according to his information, Austrian armed forces were rapidly approaching. Then came another loud explosion; a white news helicopter had been shot down by a fortress-like combat robot, crashing near the buildings, its twisted, charred aluminum alloy lying alongside burning armored vehicles by the roadside.

In the blink of an eye, this place became a war zone. Any attempt to cross the blockade would be met with the fiercest counterattack. This area is now a de facto no-fly zone; no unauthorized aircraft can pass through. This is the security force Constantine arranged for the monarch, capable of completely destroying an area in a short time, and this is even with the assault transport not having launched missiles and follow-up troops still on standby. This security force has always carried weapons of mass destruction; the only reason they haven't used these weapons is because of Salomon's mercy.

A politician, outwardly European, mustered the courage to stand up and openly declared Salomon Nazi, proclaiming that Latvia was practicing terror and genocide because its flag featured an eagle. But Salomon ignored such idiocy, seeing it as a sign of the lowest possible level of human intelligence. A sorority commando leader beside him, astonished at the sheer stupidity of the man, gleefully fired a shot at the seat without warning, shattering it into pieces.

Salomon disliked politicians who were utterly incompatible with Latvia and sought fame by slandering them. He found many such individuals among the attendees, who believed that sitting in magnificent buildings created by human ingenuity represented civilization. However, Salomon demonstrated that the world was still a jungle, and the politician lying on the ground, howling like a bleeding pig, was enough to intimidate everyone. Salomon didn't care about international repercussions. King T'Chaka of Wakanda's biggest mistake was trying to appease a group of people he couldn't possibly please. Salomon preferred dealing with the Italian Mafia to engaging with politicians.

His ability to win the hearts of the common people stemmed not from brute force, but from genuine concern. In his eyes, these people were far more principled and approachable than powerful politicians, even the Mafia. But these people before him, especially those deeply connected to the military-industrial complex, lacked principles. He waved his hand impatiently, signaling Tita to pick a few to throw out. These people would never relinquish their hard-earned gains; neither Salomon's persuasion nor threats had any effect.

"You know who I am. You've heard my speeches in Hungary, but your biggest misconception is that you see me as a politician who rose to power through elections, a fraudster who climbed the corporate ladder by manipulating public opinion, accepting political donations, engaging in backroom deals, and using the revolving door of politics and business. No, I rely on swords and guns, just like the survival rule of this universe: the strong prey on the weak. I learned this the hard way when I roamed the galaxy. Don't think that morality and law can restrain me. Don't think that your childish rules can bind me. The only thing that can restrain me is the survival of the human race, only this one, and this bottom line is being trampled on." Salomon scanned each person in front of him, looking down at them as if he could see through their eyes and into their hearts. He placed his hand with the giant claw on the raised podium, leaning slightly forward, as if to remind everyone who held their lives in their hands. Every attendee felt a castle built on a rock tilting towards them; no one could ignore this suffocating feeling.

"When I roamed the galaxy, I heard the name of the master of that alien fleet, whose goal was to slaughter half the population of the universe. I have the ability to kill that cosmic tyrant on my own, and I have the ability to teleport to the homes of everyone who opposes me and wreak havoc, but even so, humanity still cannot fight against a fleet that spans the entire solar system. I don't know if you think that the Avengers can rest easy after defeating the alien fleet that invaded New York, thinking that the alien fleet is nothing special, but the Chitauri you faced in the Battle of New York were just a small reconnaissance team, one of the components of that fleet. When that alien fleet that fills the solar system truly arrives, you will find that there are more enemies than bullets, and this is not a problem that your political games can solve. For so many years, a group of unsung heroes have sacrificed themselves so that you could survive, and all they got in return was your foolish actions that drove humanity to the brink of destruction. You are like a drunkard with school bus keys, carrying the future of the human race and driving off a cliff without looking back."

Perhaps it was due to some unknown force, but everyone present could sense the anger hidden beneath his words. This anger seemed to pierce the veil between reality and illusion; the temperature in the previously shattered glass-walled conference room suddenly rose, many people sweating profusely, like mischievous students being reprimanded by their teachers. But the reality was that neither the Sorority nor the Royal Guard detected the change in temperature. He stood in an absolute superior position, and indeed he did; he had the ability to eliminate anyone who opposed him, whether politicians or corporations. No one could withstand such damage, just as no one could withstand the deployment of Asgardian forces.

Salomon reached into a crate carried by the Golden Armored Guard and pulled a blood-stained hat. At the same time, the Sisterhood distributed a stack of data sheets to the attendees. This was standard procedure; everyone received a copy, including the politician lying on the ground.

Meanwhile, the projection equipment was also playing those contents, with Salomon occasionally explaining one or two of them, until a photograph appeared.

"The owner of the hat, Commander Frank Craig Pandoff of the U.S. Sixth Fleet, has confessed to a great deal of classified information. You will obtain all of his statements, including the CIA's support for human trafficking in Eastern Europe, the U.S. Army's human experiments in Eastern Europe, and so on. In addition, there is intelligence that Latvinia obtained from the U.S. Sixth Fleet's aircraft carriers, intelligence that Latvinia obtained from U.S. military satellites, and intelligence from captured CIA agents. Everyone present will receive the corresponding language versions. You will see the atrocities and greed in the clearest and most intuitive way, witnessing how humanity can use the life and death of others as nourishment for a rich life because of wealth and power. The atrocities committed by the U.S. military around the world after World War II for the aforementioned reasons have yet to be accounted for, but I will, because Latvinia's bottom line is life. Every blood debt will be repaid, father to son, until all the beneficiaries are bound with nooses. Only when all the tyrannical magnates have their heads chopped off will Latvinia stop its actions and welcome the day when humanity unites."

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(End of this chapter)