Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1190 Subtle Clues (First Update)

Amidst the barely noticeable gunshots rang out between the buildings, the Ford stopped at the red light remained motionless until the next red light appeared. The Dodge driver behind him honked and cursed, finally impatiently driving past and giving the gray Ford the middle finger. But not everyone was so agitated. A kind-hearted person got out of their car, grabbed a flashlight, and approached the Ford driver to see if he needed help. However, no matter how much they knocked on the window, the Ford driver refused to open it, and the dim lighting prevented him from seeing inside the car through the dark tint.

The kind-hearted man had no choice but to walk around the front of the car, but the sight before him made him back in horror. He pulled out his phone and shouted for the police. He saw a large hole in the windshield, with a lot of bloody, sticky fluid splattered on the cracked glass. Through the white cracks, he could vaguely see the driver, dressed in a suit, with his chest collapsed and his head drooping. The seatbelt was barely holding the body up so that it wouldn't slump over the steering wheel.

Immediately afterwards, gunshots rang out one after another, and the passersby finally realized what was happening and began to scatter and flee.

About five minutes later, patrol officers arrived at the scene. About ten minutes later, when the police and fire trucks arrived, they put the Ford owner into a black body bag and called a tow truck to remove the car as evidence. The onlookers saw that there was a large hole in the back of the driver's seat of the Ford owner, and there was also a large dent in the back seat. Blood-red viscous substance and pieces of indistinct color were scattered in the trunk.

Clearly, this was an indiscriminate shooting, and the attacker used a large-caliber rifle.

Although New York State has very strict gun laws, everyone knows that gun ownership is still rampant. Many of the New York police officers are veterans with military experience. They used laser pointers to roughly determine the location of the sniper position through the holes in the windshield. Next, patrol officers were dispatched to the hotel rooftop, while the elevators and stairwells were sealed off. Hotel surveillance footage was reviewed in an attempt to identify the killer.

"What about those gangsters? What if they get news of someone's death and then go into hiding so we can't find them?"

As Lorna disassembled the weapon according to procedure and placed it in a silver box lined with black foam padding, she looked up at her brother and asked a question. Logically, Lorna should have chosen to retreat the moment the kill was confirmed, but her tactical thinking was not yet fully honed, and many theoretical knowledge could not be applied in actual combat. It wasn't until Salomon reminded her that she chose to pack up and leave rather than fire a second shot.

Her sniping skills weren't great either. Salomon saw her use her talent to adjust the trajectory so that the bullet could hit the target. However, the bullet still tilted when it hit the target, and the bullet body hit the human body horizontally, which is why the target looked like it had been smashed.

Her intelligence gathering on the mission target was terrible. Salomon used his own methods to compile a target information package, which prevented her from taking action in a scene related to the orphanage and causing trouble for the orphanage. To cover up the real target, he used his HK416 rifle to fire an empty magazine into the air, so it was now a random shooting on the street rather than a sniper assassination. The real estate developer was just lucky to be hit.

This conclusion won't fool professional forensic investigators and ballistics experts, but it can temporarily delay the investigation, giving time to modify ballistic data and steal evidence. The best way to cover up such a sniper assassination is to disguise it as a random attack or coincidence, just like he did before.

Lorna Dane wasn't worried about the increasing number of police cars below the hotel and the ensuing NYPD patrol, because the trajectory of the bullet was a spoofed one, and the building the police were searching was the one next door. As long as they left before the police helicopters arrived, no one would notice them. The reason the police arrived so quickly this time was because this was a commercial district, not a slum like Hell's Kitchen, and little Lorna firmly believed her brother wouldn't let her get arrested.

"Don't worry, the gang has people to handle it," Salomon said confidently, while cleaning up the empty shell casings from his HK416. "An M429 light machine gun with 700 rounds of ammunition, an M252 mortar with five shells, an M320 grenade launcher with ten anti-personnel rounds, and military-grade electronic warfare intelligence support. No matter where the Irish gang is hiding, they won't survive tonight."

"Are you trying to wage a localized war?!" Little Lorna couldn't help but complain about the heavy firepower Salomon provided. The gang warfare here was still limited to rifles and submachine guns—the most outrageous weapons they'd come up with were RPG-7s. Using mortars was really a stretch. "These weapons are enough to raze a city block to the ground. If things escalate that much, it won't just be a matter of public order anymore! Remember when you destroyed Wall Street? That wasn't like an alien invasion; the whole of New York was in chaos. The weapons you provided will make people think Latvia launched another attack."

"So those weapons were left behind at the scene after they were used." Salomon bent down, picked up the spent cartridge cases that Lorna had forgotten to put away, and put them in his pocket. "They were all standard equipment from the US military arsenal, and the serial numbers hadn't been erased."

"I knew it! You definitely wouldn't come back because of my call!" Perhaps noticing the oversight, or perhaps for some other reason, Lorna angrily picked up the weapon case and headed for the stairs without looking back. "Could those weapon serial numbers be related to some arms dealer deals?"

"It seems Minerva has taught you to be very clever. Those weapons are connected to the CIA, to the CIA's Middle East chief's clandestine arms trade with jihadist organizations. My friends in the CIA will follow this lead. That chief is somewhat hindering my plans, so... don't be angry, that was just a sidelined clue. The real political conspiracy is never that simple. The reason they want that person dead isn't just the arms trade, but a Pentagon super-soldier human experimentation program. They used some kind of drug on Navy SEALs."

It's impossible to kill someone who hinders the plan using such a time-consuming, laborious, and highly uncertain simple method. This clue only increases other people's suspicion of the Middle East leader, allowing them to anticipate the disappearance and death of the Middle East leader and eliminate suspicion of the new leader.

"Let's go, you still have a study session to attend."

The Punisher is an exceptionally skilled Marine, but also a very difficult person to get along with.

Salomon's conversation with him was unpleasant, because Frank Cassel had first met Salomon beside the target's corpse, and the second time was through a hallucination in a wine glass. Even though the Immortal City had helped him find the mastermind behind the murder of his wife and children, he still refused to accept a full-time job in Latvia, working with Steve Rogers to maintain order in Latvia, even with a license from Latvia allowing him to use lethal force. He still didn't know that the Latvian emperor was Salomon, and the only way to get his help was through Nick Fury's connections to make a request, not a demand, and Frank Cassel wouldn't let someone else's request disrupt his original plans.

"Frank Cassel is an empty shell, his body smoldering with the remnants of the past. He's seeking death, tormented by memories of the past, every second of his life is excruciating," Salomon told Lorna, sharing his thoughts on the Punisher. The night in Midtown Manhattan was dazzling, the renovated Avengers Tower still standing there, as if it were still the Avengers at their most popular. Time can heal all wounds, including the pain of war, but some memories can never be forgotten.

"If one day someone finds him dead in a roadside trash can, and the first person to discover him is a homeless man scavenging for scraps in the morning, then I wouldn't be surprised at all. He refused my job offer because he knew he wouldn't live to retire; Frank Cassel would already be dead."

"So where are we going?" Little Lorna licked her ice cream; the cold food effectively relieved the discomfort caused by the teleportation, and at least she looked much more energetic now, instead of gagging like before. By now, they had changed into their usual clothes, neither ostentatious nor shabby; their plaid shirts made them look like tourists. Salomon switched to an East London accent at the opportune moment, and Little Lorna almost couldn't understand what he was saying.

"Go see if my money was well spent. You should know that what was stolen from the US military armory is worth more than its original value; its symbolic significance far outweighs its practical value. Frank Cassel might at most use a light machine gun and turn a mortar shell into an IED, that's all. But I'll tell you his tactics, so you won't make the same mistake again."

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)