Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1192 S.H.I.E.L.D. Has Nine Heads (First Update)

This SIG P226 is a hand-modified pistol with a stainless steel titanium nitride coated recoil spring guide rod, a 5-inch threaded .40 S&W chromium phosphate barrel, a single-action trigger, a short reset trigger kit, an ergonomic polymer heat-insulated grip, a heat-treated steel magazine well, and other accessories. It transforms an already excellent P226 X5 competition pistol into a Special Operations Point 0.40 pistol capable of rapid and accurate shooting and equipped with tactical kits such as a suppressor. It has a magazine capacity of 10 rounds.

Most of the gun's components came from the Immortal City (industrial parts such as chromium phosphate corrosion-resistant plating and seamless alloy barrel manufacturing) and the private workshops of Oxfordshire Manor (for polishing and assembly). Therefore, although the gun looks like a very ordinary pistol, its level of metallurgical industry is far superior to that of the current human world. For some people, this gun is a bit heavy, and the recoil is so great that it is not convenient to use with one hand, but this is understandable - this is a custom-made pistol prepared for witches. The bullets used use a mixture of single-base nitrocellulose propellant improved by the Immortal City and powdered sugarcane bagasse as propellant to propel heavy tungsten core discarding sabot full-power bullets, increasing the muzzle velocity to an astonishing 420 meters per second, capable of penetrating the defenses of any non-human creature at close range.

The modified pistol was highly praised by veteran gun connoisseurs Bayonetta and Jeanne, especially for its effectiveness as a target for lower-level angels (outer-dimensional beings). They awarded it high marks of 90 and 94 points respectively at the Oxfordshire Family Gun Show (which Lorna also attended). While it performed well against ordinary enemies (those wearing body armor with ceramic inserts) using ordinary hollow-point bullets, it still inevitably caused excessive damage.

However, excessive casualties also served as a deterrent. At least when Salomon ripped open the skull of the first bodyguard, the private security contractors were startled by the flying tissue, bone fragments, and blood, thinking they had been hit by an anti-materiel weapon, giving Salomon a chance to empty his remaining nine bullets. Only those bodyguards who reacted quickly enough managed to take cover in time. The survivors gained a brief respite, then picked up their submachine guns and began indiscriminately firing, covering their wounded teammates' retreat.

This kind of mission should normally be handled by intelligence agents or members of the Guardian Order, but Salomon, back in New York, decided to handle it personally. For Salomon now, participating in this level of firefight was merely a form of entertainment. The fact that he didn't use power armor, explosive guns, chainsaw swords, plasma guns, or other power weapons capable of blasting an entire city into the air was already a sign of considerable restraint. The last time he used ordinary human firearms was many years ago.

After replacing the magazine, he circled the outside of the vehicle and first shot the driver through the window, killing him instantly.

He then grabbed the slide of an enemy's Glock 17 pistol that sprang out from behind the hood bumper, closed the distance, and fired three shots with the muzzle pressed against the body armor. It's unclear whether the hollow-point bullets penetrated the armor, but the man was clearly incapacitated. Salomon discarded the Glock 17, grabbed the body armor, and pushed the man against another bodyguard's gun barrel, using his strength to pin them firmly against the car door. Salomon seized the opportunity to turn and shoot the target in the knee, then slammed his shoulder into the two bodyguards piled on top of each other. He then turned back and fired three shots from the side, hitting the gap under the bodyguard's vest. Finally, he created some distance and fired a final shot, piercing the head of both incapacitated bodyguards, ending the fight.

After doing all this, he walked towards his target, his expression cold and unhurried as he began to change magazines. By this time, the target was terrified by his astonishing combat skills and the bloodshed at the scene, and recklessly picked up his pistol and fired an empty magazine at Salomon. However, Salomon drew closer and closer, his ion shield flashing each time, pushing the bullets flying towards him to the other side.

"Why! Why can't you die?!"

"Ion Shield, kid!" Salomon stunned his target with the grip of his pistol, tied a tourniquet around his thigh, and happily dragged him by the collar toward the FBI car. The previous shootout had already sent passersby scrambling to escape, but at this moment, all patrol officers, including those from the NYPD's 10th and 18th Precincts and their support personnel, were drawn to the violent explosion at the Irish gang's hideout—even though the NYPD was reluctant to patrol impoverished areas, a serious incident like an explosion meant they had to be deployed in full force, along with firefighters and medical personnel. Therefore, even if someone called the police to report a gunfight in Midtown, it would take the NYPD some time to arrive, and it would be impossible to retrieve nearby surveillance footage to find them afterward, because an unnamed "Thumbelina" AI had already taken control of the nearby equipment; this AI, equipped with chaotic algorithms, was now working for him.

Salomon wasn't in a hurry to retreat. The so-called twenty seconds was merely to put some pressure on Lorna. Only through repeated extreme pressure tests could the trainee's skills and mentality be stabilized, preventing her from making basic mistakes due to panic. In the past, Lorna had only undergone extreme pressure tests in close combat. She hadn't been exposed to this kind of special operations training for very long, and it was easy for her to forget tactical points or even rely entirely on her special abilities—similar to the tunneling effect in psychology. This was unacceptable. Special abilities are just weapons; as with any weapon, one must be prepared to lose it. Furthermore, other basic training is needed to enhance the ability to use weapons effectively.

"Alright, now drag those two dancing guys out."

Salomon first threw the target into the back seat, then helped drag the FBI agent, who had started rambling in the passenger seat, out of the car and threw him to the side of the road. At the same time, he didn't forget to take the gun from the agent and put it in the car, so that the unfortunate guy would have fewer documents and certificates to fill out in the future.

He got into the passenger seat and tapped the steering wheel with his pistol.

"You drive. I know you don't have a driver's license, but I know you can drive, that's enough. I showed you the map, do you remember the route? Don't trust the navigation. If the enemy has advanced electronic warfare capabilities, then navigation could very well become a way for the enemy to track or mislead you. In an environment full of enemies, it's best to turn off navigation. Even with smartphones, this is the only way to avoid being tracked."

"I got it!" Little Lorna gritted her teeth, skillfully starting the car parked on the side of the road. Salomon, sitting in the passenger seat, had already shut down the navigation system, rudely disrupting the GPS. "Let's go!"

"We're going to pick up Frank Kassel and then go home for dinner!"

Little Lorna's driving style is extremely unruly; to put it simply, she violates every single traffic law. After all, her driving skills all come from Salomon and her adoptive mother, Athena. Like the witch, Athena is also a speed enthusiast. Whether it's horses, cars, or airplanes, she loves anything that can reach extreme speeds. It's easy to imagine what kind of person Little Lorna will become under such upbringing.

Even driving the car like a wild horse, she maintained firm control over every part of it, from the engine to the wheels. Sometimes, she even used her abilities to make the car perform maneuvers beyond her size and reflexes, such as drifting through corners without slowing down. Salomon was starting to regret letting Lorna drive, but she was currently immersed in the thrill of the high-speed chase. It wasn't until the road ahead became congested with traffic and more and more police cars passed by that Lorna slowly slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. "We can't go any further," Lorna said, peering ahead. "There's a roadblock, and those cars aren't NYPD patrol cars. Are they CIA, Homeland Security, or S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"That should be Homeland Security. I know that woman, Madani." Salomon removed the silencer and put the pistol into his thigh holster. "We might need some medical equipment; this woman was a bit ruthless. We're S.H.I.E.L.D. now. If we get caught, that's what you have to say, understand?"

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(End of this chapter)