Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1176 Overturning Common Sense (First Update)

In that instant, the term "alternative therapy" once again slammed into Stephen Strange's mind. Especially when the Sorcerer Supreme brought him a book that reeked of decay, displaying diagrams of acupuncture points, chakras, and MRI scans, he became increasingly certain that he had made the most foolish decision of his life to come to Kathmandu to seek out the so-called Kamar-Taj. Perhaps Jonathan Pemberton and the rehabilitation therapist were both frauds. In his many years of medical practice, he had encountered numerous patients who couldn't afford the follow-up treatments and came to him to discuss so-called alternative therapies. Generally, he would tell the patients and their families directly that if they couldn't afford the treatment, they could take out a bank loan or expedite the insurance claim process, rather than pursuing pseudoscience like naturopathy or homeopathy, and certainly not believing in supernatural energy, herbs, or faith-based healing.

In all cases, to be precise, he would ruthlessly refute patients' questions about alternative therapies. Whenever this happened, Christine would tell the patient that while some traditional medicine might offer some help, only scientific treatment plans could truly heal them. She would then introduce patients to aid organizations, support groups (several people gathered together to discuss their experiences), media outlets, social donation channels, bank loan programs, or negotiated cost reductions from hospitals to help them through difficult times—she was a gentle, kind-hearted woman, and nothing in this world could compare to her. The beautiful memories of the past made Stephen Strange smile, but regret, sorrow, and anger clung to him like a persistent, unsettling wound. Stephen Strange may have once been successful, but now he was crippled, hating his powerlessness, hating his past foolishness and arrogance.

"The people who drew these pictures only saw the tip of the iceberg, not the whole iceberg," the Supreme Master said gently. "Human vision is narrow; we need to broaden our horizons to see the truth."

"That's enough." Stephen Strange raised his weary eyes. He was utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. The lingering fear of being robbed was now forgotten. He didn't want to feign politeness or humility anymore; in his despair, no emotion could sway him. "This is a one-way ticket, and it's used up all my last penny. Don't give me any talk of faith-based healing."

"You're only seeing the tip of the iceberg right now, and you've spent your whole life trying to broaden your horizons." The Sorcerer Supreme remained calm and composed. "You've been trying to see more, to know more. Now you know there are ways to expand your knowledge, but these methods are beyond your imagination. Are you going to reject that possibility?"

"No, I refuse to believe in acupoints, energy, the power of faith—that nonsense. Any alternative therapy is pseudoscience," Stephen Strange sneered. "There's no such thing as spiritual power! We're made of matter, nothing more. In this universe, we're just a tiny speck of dust, made up of even smaller specks of dust, nothing more!"

"My favorite disciple would agree with your idea; he has always rejected superstition." The Supreme Master nodded. "But you underestimate yourself. If something exists in the world, you must acknowledge it."

"You think you see through me, don't you? Wrong! But I see through you!" Enrage ignited Stephen Strange's emotions, and he pointed a finger at the Sorcerer Supreme. Mordo couldn't stop him in time; the Sorcerer Supreme reacted—the Venerable grabbed Stephen Strange's wrist, expertly twisting his arm to the side, and slapped him in the chest with his other hand. Then, something unbelievable happened. A painful sense of detachment washed over him; he felt naked, observing his own body as a bystander, and through his translucent form, he saw his hands emitting an indescribable glow. He felt an irresistible pull, and after a moment, the illusion vanished. Stephen Strange shuddered in disbelief, regaining consciousness.

"What did you do to me?" he asked in terror.

"In terms you can understand, the soul leaves the body."

"What was put in the tea? Hallucinogens or anesthetics?"

"It's just tea, except half of it is honey," the Venerable Master said calmly. "I thought I'd give you an extra cup of water!"

For a moment, Stephen Strange couldn't control his thoughts. He began to believe the Sorcerer Supreme's words, to believe in the existence of witchcraft, even though he realized how foolish that idea was.

"What just happened?"

"For a brief moment, you will enter the world of souls. In that place, souls can live outside the body," the Sorcerer Supreme said. "Although it is dangerous, dabbling is permitted, provided one has the self-control."

"Why are you doing this?" Stephen Strange asked. He didn't care about the spirit world; he just wanted to heal his hands, even if it meant believing in witchcraft. "I want to heal my hands. That's my only goal."

"Let me show you how ignorant you are. Open your eyes."

In that instant, Stephen Strange saw the entire world. In the boundless darkness of space, the Earth's curved outline and the ring of blue light beyond the atmosphere were breathtaking. Even though Stephen Strange denied the reality of what he was seeing, he was uncontrollably captivated, until a Monarch butterfly appeared before him. He couldn't resist the urge to touch the butterfly, and the next instant, he was dragged by a terrifying suction into a place filled with nauseating colors and countless vortexes, and his entire world shattered completely.

"His heart is beating a little fast." In a daze, he heard Mordo's voice.

"Is it serious?" Sherlock Holmes leaned closer, looking at Stephen Strange lying on the floor. He was familiar with this symptom, having spent days in the same bed himself. "Why doesn't he need a ventilator and IV fluids? Why does he look so much like me? Is there something you haven't told me?"

"Because Stephen Strange won't try to understand what he sees, but you will." Mordo still had his hand on Stephen Strange's wrist, counting his pulse. "Some things shouldn't be explored too deeply because our human brains can't comprehend them. Not everyone can imagine four to eleven dimensions, and what you and he are seeing far exceeds the eleven dimensions that current human science can deduce. Trying to understand outer dimensions will only drive you insane. What we do is utilize, not analyze, and kill all those who go mad and fall because of outer dimensions."

"Are you threatening me?" Sherlock Holmes asked.

“Yes, I’m threatening you. The extradimensional invasions and human tragedies caused by those mad sorcerers are countless. In fact, if you wake up showing clear signs of corruption, we will kill you immediately.” Mordo’s tone was sincere, but he didn’t even glance at Sherlock Holmes. “We have killed in the past, we kill now, and we will kill in the future. After all, this is a dangerous universe. A symbol, a piece of paper, a whisper could turn the entire world into a plaything of extradimensional evil gods. We are the last line of defense for humanity, and every sorcerer must dedicate their life to this cause.”

"Including the Emperor of Latvia?"

"Yes, his job is to completely eliminate this threat," Mordo said. "As for why Stephen Strange looks so much like you, it's probably just a coincidence, nothing to be surprised about."

"Look, he's awake!" the Sorcerer Supreme said cheerfully as he saw Stephen Strange open his eyes. "I think he's alright."

"Oh, I'm a little jealous," Sherlock Holmes said, looking down at Stephen Strange, who had fallen into a state of incapacitation again. "Looks like he won't be put through a feeding tube." He knew what Stephen Strange would see; he had experienced it all. Their souls would eventually fall into that terrifying, open eye in the galaxy, witnessing evil forces older than time itself, confronting the hatred and greed of outer dimensions towards the real world. After a while, he asked the busy Mordo, "Can we win? I mean, Emperor Latvinia. You dragged me onto this ship; I need to know its course."

"I don't know. This question is beyond my comprehension." Mordo looked up at the Sorcerer Supreme. "Anything is possible in this world. We are all embarking on our own destiny's journey. There must be a path to victory among the myriad possibilities of the multiverse, but only the wise can find it and realize it."

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(End of this chapter)