Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1054 Family Boxing Match (Second Update)

Milia squinted, watching the high-speed boxing match unfold before her with amusement—a spectacle beyond human comprehension. She continued stuffing cold jelly into her mouth without a moment's pause, only stopping occasionally to cheer before resuming her dine-recommended snacks. Aside from her cheers always being a beat too late, everything seemed perfectly normal. The hall was filled with the whooshing sounds of limbs and clothing cutting through the air, even the expensive crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling swayed incessantly, as if a storm was brewing. It was less a boxing match and more a one-sided attack; the black-haired witch wore a suit and high heels, but that didn't stop her from unleashing pure physical violence.

Each impact of fists, elbows, and knees produced a dull thud, and each blow, powerful enough to dent the armor plates of a heavy armored vehicle, caused the magically reinforced heels of high heels to embed themselves like steel nails into the exquisite, smooth Baroque-style marble floor. But then, the flying stone fragments would rush back to their original positions as if squeezed into a turbulent flow of time, leaving the marble floor intact.

Benedictine's attacks, barely perceptible to the naked eye, filled the hall with a series of crackling sounds. Her opponent, clad in a deep red robe, carefully avoided all the furniture, even finding time to bend down and kiss the girl who had recently received her name and was being taken to the dentist that day, making her giggle. For this Oxfordshire manor, there were daily entertainments capable of killing ordinary people, and the spectators of this particular event were certainly no ordinary people.

The white-haired witch Joan of Arc had entered witch time. In her eyes, Bayonetta and Salomon's movements were no different from usual. This magic, which slowed down the passage of time in her senses, was the foundation of the witch's powerful combat abilities. The girl, on the other hand, used her powerful mental strength to "see" what had already happened in the Akashic Records. Therefore, her reactions were often slower, but more accurate. As long as she didn't break the rules and use excessively powerful mental strength to peer into trillions of threads of fate, her mental state was quite safe. Only Hammurabi, standing at the door, relied on his genetically modified eyes and brain to keep up with the witch and Salomon's speed, judging the outcome from their stances and moves. His monarch had taught him many martial arts in the arena, and with the knowledge implanted through the brain-computer interface, he could become an extremely powerful martial arts master even without any modifications.

However, until Bayonetta slammed Salomon back into the hall with a powerful shoulder tackle, Hammurabi was still confidently boasting to Lorna, the only one among them who couldn't see the bigger picture, that his lord was merely letting the witch win, and that if he wanted to, he would have won in the blink of an eye. "That's because you don't know how to charm women, big one," Lorna said confidently, patting Hammurabi's golden armor despite only reaching his waist. "Bayonetta is in a terrible mood because of what her brother did."

"The Vienna International Center?" Hammurabi asked, head bowed. "Just because of that?"

"Now the whole world thinks Latvia is a terrorist organization that uses diplomats from all over the world as hostages, at least that's how it was before that video aired, but you have to switch to an Asian TV channel to see it. And the news also said that many people died in the International Center, so the witch is very unhappy."

"People will always die, Lorna Dane. I don't need to tell you that. Human life isn't that valuable. No matter what concepts born since the Enlightenment you add to life, they can't hide the fact that people die worthlessly every moment of the world. Life is fragile, especially the life of mortals. Even if we don't do this, many people die every day at the hands of Western tycoons and the terrorist organizations they support, or at the guns of their armies that nominally support peace but secretly carry out subversive operations. It's just that because those people are Africans and Middle Easterners, subhuman in their eyes, that Western news media..." "I don't care." The Royal Guard said dismissively. "The reason this has attracted so much attention is because so many white people have died. Our Lord has shattered those nations' confidence that 'white people don't die.' Our Lord has frightened them. If it were just the King of Wakanda who died from the bomb, they wouldn't care! Human lives are worthless; only lives that can be used to make a fuss are valuable! Now, Latvinia's actions will make those nations understand that Latvinia will avenge those people. This is the will of our Lord; he will not tolerate any waste of human lives. Only such people can withstand the darkness of the future."

Hammurabi lightly stroked the power switch on his halberd with his thumb, his tone filled with reverence. However, this reverence paled in comparison to the man who casually pushed open the door and re-entered the hall. Salomon's daily life and work were vastly different; few could connect him with the decisive and ruthless king. The only common ground was his battle-hardened muscles and scarred body. "I know, the witch knows too, that's why she didn't use her weapon," Little Lorna rolled her eyes, partly due to the Royal Guard's adoration of her brother. "But when women want to vent their frustrations, you'd better not try to reason with them. Don't you know that?"

"I don't feel that way. My only desire is to complete my mission," Hammurabi stated frankly about the current situation. "Latvinia doesn't yet have a hegemony over public opinion. But in a few days, once all the countries have confirmed the safety of their diplomats, the information we handed over to those countries will be exposed. Coupled with the work the Regent is currently carrying out, public opinion will soon be reversed, unless those countries don't want the technology from Latvinia. If our Lord wants to win a war, then He will win, both in reality and in public opinion."

Little Lorna tugged at Hammurabi's red velvet cloak. "Let's go. It looks like they'll be fighting for another twenty minutes, and repairing that door will take another twenty minutes. As for whether they'll go to the bedroom after the fight... we can use this time to try some of Ms. Minerva's homemade yogurt. Ms. Maximov will be here soon too. Ms. Dinah has prepared dinner in advance, so we won't go hungry."

"Your nails are as sharp as sword blades, my dear." That evening, Salomon sat before his crimson bedchamber bathed in moonlight, using the small spells that danced on his fingers to heal the scratches on his back. He spoke to Bayonetta, who lay on the pillow, her face flushed. "I understand why you're unhappy, but I assure you, this is the least damaging way. I must unite the human race; we have no time. I also assure you, I will return to my beautiful wife as a hound returns to its master."

"No, you don't understand." The black-haired witch lay on the bed, gently tossing a pillow at his head. The cool bedside lamp cast a soft glow on her body, outlining her beautiful figure in the air, like an ethereal snake immersed in darkness. "I'm angry because you're not gaining a crown for yourself, you're gaining a crown for everyone. Not everyone understands how to use their power prudently as you do, not everyone possesses your wisdom and foresight. Mortals can never escape the dark ambitions within human nature, and all the setbacks you encounter will stem from this. Your Royal Guard is perfect, but I don't believe everyone can be as rational as they are. You are destroying your own power, and I'm angry because you know what you're doing."

"When did you become a witch?"

“I am. I don’t need to brew potions to see the future, Salomon. This path is too difficult; almost everyone will be your enemy.” Bayonetta reached for the long pipe on the bedside table, lit it, and exhaled the fragrance of a secret witch's medicine. This alchemical ointment was extremely effective at restoring energy, but like almost all alchemical products of the witch clan, it only worked on women. “Have you considered stopping?”

"This is a war I was destined to participate in; if I don't fight it, no one else will. I've been prepared for this for a long time until the moment of victory arrives."

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(End of this chapter)