Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1118 Interference in Internal Affairs (Second Update)

We are killers, the most cold-blooded, ruthless, and efficient killers on Earth.

We were originally ordinary people fighting for foolish reasons such as religious superstition, selfish desires, and money, until we underwent this evolution. Our creator deliberately molded us into this form because he needed us as his sword and shield. Beneath the hardened power armor, gene editing, drugs, and other factors work together to promote extreme muscle growth in the way the creator desired. Bones are brutally trimmed, crushed, and healed, repeating the cycle and then breaking through genetic limitations to grow again. Cancer-like biochemical internal organs are taken from the culture tank and sent into the overcrowded chest and abdominal cavities, developing along with the ever-growing body. The brain also becomes smarter and more agile due to redevelopment, targeted modification, and information infusion, and even some unnecessary weaknesses and emotions are deleted.

Flexible neural probes penetrate deep into the spine, greedily reading nerve signals from throughout the body, transmitting our every move to the mechanical structure driving the powered armor, causing the servers to operate in sync with us. Our movements are many times faster than before; our strength can easily twist steel bars. The world's most advanced weaponry provides us with the most efficient means of destruction, eliminating unnecessary emotions such as cowardice and pity. Our existence has only one purpose: to eliminate enemies that stand in the way of human progress.

"What are you writing now, Malcolm? Is that long, tedious poem you wrote in Iraq?" The adjutant's voice jolted the legion commander from his pen and paper. The roar of the Pegasus assault transport ship's engine and the friction of the atmosphere penetrating the thick alloy plates and ablative armor transformed into a low rumble. Malcolm looked up at his adjutant, then shoved the small notebook in his hand into his armored compartment. The adjutant, clad in dark gold armor and a snow-white cloak, stroked his black stubble, a gesture he and his adjutant had liked to make before their transformation, when Langley's agents had suggested they grow beards to infiltrate villages inhabited by jihadists. "If you consider publishing an autobiography, the Emperor might be pleased. He likes to see people think, and literature reflecting progressive warfare is sure to be popular, especially the work of us soldiers."

"Ordinary people want to see heroes in the sunlight, not the stench of dead bodies and the wails of wounded soldiers, much less a mixture of minced flesh, bone fragments, and metal," Malcolm said calmly. He touched the plasma pistol at his waist. The high-pressure hydrogen magnetic confinement pressurization chamber was not yet powered on; its captivating azure blue remained dim, and the high-temperature gas exhaust port was icy cold.

This is a master-crafted weapon. Its exquisite craftsmanship and materials allow it to continuously spew forth stellar temperatures, capable of melting any metal or rock in its path. He has used this gun to kill Albanian bandits driving WWII tanks, stubborn cultists, undead zombies, and black magicians wielding witchcraft—and, of course, soldiers like himself in the past, deceived by politicians' self-serving desires disguised as righteousness. In the future, this gun will also kill aliens from outer space and monsters from another dimension. This weapon, along with the spear gifted to him by the commander of the Imperial Guard, embodies the Emperor's will; this is the mission of the Knight of the Fire.

"Think about it, what would the world be like if we accomplished our mission?"

"Unity and progress, reason and science," the adjutant said. "Don't you like a world like that?"

"It's a little too good, Falcone, almost too good to be true."

The adjutant let out a breath. "Have you ever met someone like the emperor before?"

"I have never seen anyone at the pinnacle of power fight alongside soldiers, nor have I ever seen any general devise such a comprehensive battle plan, as if war were a toy assembled effortlessly according to instructions, nor have I ever seen any president create a nation from scratch and command the respect of all through his speeches. So the answer is no, never."

"I didn't expect your answer to be so detailed; I thought it would only be one word! To put it simply, we've never seen anyone as powerful as the Emperor. Those damn superheroes are no match for him. So why not believe the one who created us, instead of the idiots and liars we voted for in the past? If we hadn't been reformed, and the Emperor were a presidential candidate, I would definitely have voted for him to enter the White House! Constantine told me that the Emperor's next goal is to rename Istanbul as Constantinople!"

Malcolm let out a dry laugh.

"I bet you it'll happen within the next two years."

"We're broke, do you want my bullets?"

"I can engrave 'I beat Malcolm' on a hundred shell casings, and the post-battle cleanup crew will definitely see it." The adjutant nodded. "Not just your guards, the entire Infernal Knights will know. They may not know what I won, but they'll all know I'm stronger than you." This joke amused the others in the assault transport ship's crew compartment; the remaining sense of humor of the Infernal Knights who were maintaining their weapons caused them to burst into laughter that could frighten ordinary people.

"Next time you'll have to follow standard procedure and board a different assault transport. You'll never land with me." Malcolm shook his head and picked up a data panel. This command-type Pegasus heavy assault transport had extremely powerful communication capabilities and an information processing center, capable of commanding drones and armored tank groups in combat. He glanced at the time, and then, based on his experience and the vibrations of the assault transport, judged that they had entered the stratosphere and would arrive at the mission departure point in ten minutes.

"Check the task assignments."

His smile vanished, and his adjutant nodded solemnly.

Malcolm's data panel was connected to the information processing systems of all the company commanders, and every instruction he issued would be heard by them. "Upon landing, the 3rd and 4th Companies will immediately construct fortifications and airfields, preparing to receive the shuttle transport aircraft. The 1st and 2nd Companies will be responsible for reconnaissance and patrols on the south and west sides, respectively. The 5th Company, as the reserve, will construct artillery positions, preparing for missile launches. Company commanders, each receive the contingency plan and assign tasks to your tactical squads. This mission is special because our enemy is uncertain. We will not receive accurate orders until the internal affairs of Wakanda are resolved, confirming whether to support the coup side."

He unconsciously tightened his grip on the rifle handle, with the energy trigger and the gun trigger located below his right index and middle fingers, respectively.

"Wakanda possesses a holographic projection technology capable of covering an entire direction, so satellite reconnaissance won't be of much use until this device is captured. Once we enter Wakanda, we'll only receive reconnaissance information from drones. Before that, we must prepare for the attack. Their military and political centers are already marked on the map; we must destroy or capture these locations and disable the ion shield and holographic projection in the Wakanda capital. Everyone must strictly obey orders, because the Emperor and the Royal Guard will lead this operation, and we will be warriors accompanying the Emperor."

"Another victory. I can't imagine the Emperor's army losing." The company commander said with a smile. "Will Hammurabi carry the standard again, or Constantine? When will this honor come to us? I remember Malcolm's first battle before becoming a legion commander was as Constantine's standard bearer. Maybe this time someone will be able to compete for the position of legion commander, even if it's not the First Legion."

"The Imperial Guard are bodyguards, we are warriors, our roles are different," Malcolm said. "James, if you're so eager to become a legion commander, then consider it after you've beaten me in tactical drills and in the arena."

"So, who should we support? Do you have any information?" the adjutant asked.

"The official document states that Latvinia will not interfere in Wakanda's internal affairs unless the Wakanda royal family refuses to honor the agreement. Then we'll see who can offer Wakanda's industrial facilities and technology, fulfilling their duties as Latvinia's ally; we'll support that person." Malcolm shook his head. "That's reality, Falcone. Perhaps unity and progress will follow after we complete our mission, but until then, we must endure. What we're doing isn't much different from what we've done in the past."

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)