Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 130 Randolph Carter (Second Update!)

"What do you mean?" Agent Romanov asked.

Salomon glanced at the others walking away and sighed. He quickly explained the analogy of the blank sheet of paper and the cube to Natasha, who was clever and soon understood what he meant.

“Each of us observes a different cross-section because many different things happen at the same time. The cube formed by all these cross-sections is the reality of the universe, the foundation of our existence,” Salomon said. “You and Agent Coulson must have entered the cave. All these anomalies are related to that cave; it's a passage. When we came out of the cave, we entered a distorted cross-section from three hundred years ago, a cross-section that was originally normal. Can you imagine a cube with a cylinder at its waist? We are now in the cross-section of this cylinder. I call this anomaly a ‘Loshy Zone,’ a layer of spacetime anomalies covering reality. What we need to do is leave this place, or solve the source of the events and bring everything back to normal.”

"What's the basis for that?" Natasha Romanoff followed Agent Coulson and a group of girls. Agent Coulson had learned his lesson; he now knew how to talk. Clearly, his college education gave him plenty to talk about, and his strange tales were enough to capture the girls' attention.

"Those monsters we encountered before... they don't belong to this world." Salomon walked beside Natasha. "I'm absolutely certain of that. Those monsters were ghouls, but not ghouls from this universe."

"Do monsters have birth certificates?" Natasha said with a laugh. "Even if they did, they wouldn't be stuck on their foreheads, otherwise I would have seen them long ago. I know you have magic, and I know that many strange things happen in the magical world, but what you're saying is all theory, and cannot be proven."

"I can't prove it until I begin my experiments," Salomon said. His method of proof was to open a portal. If the portal to New York couldn't be opened, it meant that the reality they observed matched Salomon's theory—a distorted cross-section covering the town of Salem. Even if the portal could be opened, it wouldn't take them back to the original cross-section, because they weren't even on the same blank slate. But if the portal to New York opened… that might mean something even worse. Salomon preferred the former; at least that was something Excalibur could handle.

"Moreover," Salomon continued, "I don't know how to describe it to you, but I smelled this exotic magic many years ago."

"The year you robbed Senator White?" Natasha looked at the ring on Salomon's hand, raised her eyebrows, "You traded this ring for an outfit just like the one you're wearing now, so at least you didn't lose money."

"Ha, I'm starting to believe in fate now." Salomon chuckled rather helplessly. "Although my theory is pessimistic, it doesn't mean I believe in fate, because I am the new length and width of the cross-section. But this ring appeared in Salem back then... Perhaps I was destined to come here. Maybe we can see Senator White's ancestor, and if he also had this pink diamond ring, then it would prove my theory wrong."

Was it Vishanti? Or the Eternal God? Salomon didn't know who had brought him to this place, but he was certain that the Sorcerer Supreme had foreseen his safe return; otherwise, the Sorcerer Supreme would have handled it himself. If anyone in this world loved him, the Sorcerer Supreme was certainly one of them.

Salomon firmly believed this.

"Then we need to speed things up and not fall behind, magician."

"Remember not to let it slip, I bought a Russian maid. You don't understand how fanatical the Puritans were in this era, on this land. They firmly believed in witchcraft and magic... well, that's true. But they also believed in every wicked superstition created by their tormented souls. These people searched for the devil in every place and everything, believing the devil to be the culprit of all problems and misfortunes. Every soul here was addicted to hell and curses, living in constant fear." Salomon mercilessly mocked the ancestors of these Americans, "What a pathetic bunch..."

"If there really is a devil in this world..." Natasha Romanov hesitated for a moment, then continued, "that devil has already used me to do what he wanted. I have many blood debts to repay."

"Why are you suddenly bringing this up?"

"I know your secret, magic. Although you never hid it from me." Natasha blinked cheerfully. "Now, you should know my secret too, shouldn't you?"

“I understand how you feel… but this time, our hands may very well be stained with blood again.” Salomon lowered his eyes and said, “I won’t regret it, and I hope you won’t. Pay close attention to Abigail. You’re an agent; you can tell if she’s lying. My orders are to kill Abigail. If killing her can end all this, I will do it.”

“If Abigail isn’t what you think, then Agent Coulson would never have agreed to this,” Natasha said. “He’s a good man, a really good man.”

"Then I will do whatever it takes to resolve this matter."

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Near the town, Abigail's uncle appeared at the end of the road. "I've been looking for you for so long, Abigail." Abigail's uncle seemed like a stern man. He wore a beige trench coat, and the neat shirt collar and tie indicated that he was a meticulous person. His short black hair was all combed back, his brow bone was sharp, and his thin lips were tightly pursed.

"Uncle!" Abigail said goodbye to the girls returning home before introducing the three strangers to her uncle. She said, "This is Mr. Colson, a scholar from London. This is his student, Sir Damonette. This is…this is Miss Maid! Mr. Colson, this is my uncle."

"Hello, Mr. Coulson." After introducing himself, Randolph Carter nodded to Coulson and Salomon, shaking Coulson's hand. "I am also an academic, teaching theology in Boston, but I also have some knowledge of history. It seems you have a knack for teaching minors; I noticed they were all having a very pleasant conversation with you."

"I was just telling you stories from other continents," Coulson said, getting into character. "These are my adventures around the world over the years. They're not exactly thrilling, but they're still worth hearing."

"I think we'll have a very pleasant conversation," Randolph Carter said. "I also have a bottle of local whisky, which we might be able to talk about sometime. It's hard to find a decent place to stay in Salem at this hour, so you could stay at my place tonight if you don't mind."

Randolph Carter didn't reveal much emotion, but his enthusiasm still aroused the suspicion of others. Salomon, needless to say, was quite wary of everything here, while the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents thought it was rather suspicious to casually accept three outsiders on 17th-century New England soil.

"Thank you very much for your help." Coulson nodded in agreement. Since Abigail was one of the culprits behind the tragedy, it was worthwhile to observe her nearby, and there should be another noteworthy target there. He said, "We'll go to the hotel in town first thing tomorrow morning."

"I'll have Titusa prepare a meal for everyone to help you recover from the fatigue of your journey. Mr. Coulson, if you have time after dinner, we might as well talk about your observations," Randolph Carter mentioned another target that Coulson wanted to observe.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Carter."

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"Damn it! It really won't open!" Salomon took off his sling ring and sat on the bed in the guest room. He didn't know whether to be happy or angry, because the only portal that could be opened was on this cross-section, or more precisely, on this town, or even more precisely, on both ends of this room.

At this moment, Natasha Romanov was leaning against a pillow, her legs stretched out relaxed, eating heartily the food Salomon had stored.

The food in Salem wasn't particularly refined because New England was threatened by the Dutch from the western New Netherland colonies, the Spanish from the south, the French from the northwestern New France colonies, and also had conflicts with the Indigenous Indians. Supplies could only be obtained from the port. However, most cargo ships chose to go to Boston rather than to the small port of Salem, and most of the people who came here were colonists from the mainland.

Randolph Carter only provided food for Agent Coulson and Salomon; as for Natasha… she said she was a maid, so she only got servant's food. After dinner, Coulson, citing travel fatigue, went back to his bedroom to rest, while Natasha, who had originally been assigned to share a room with the maid Titus, also made an excuse. She described Salomon as a cradle-raised creature, saying that Salomon couldn't be separated from her even when sleeping.

Now, Natasha, using the excuse that she wasn't full, demanded that Salomon bring out his food supplies—Salomon was certain she had learned this from Nick Fury. Salomon sat on the bed, lost in thought—perhaps this anomalous area had boundaries, but he didn't even need to explore its size to know they couldn't leave. Whether it was some kind of magic, or the anomalous area was expanding as they observed it, as things stood, they couldn't leave without resolving the situation.

But there's also good news. That is, anything that happens in this anomalous zone won't affect reality outside. If the theory is proven, it means the residents of Salem in 2010 are still living well; they just can't access each other. A thin, yet unbreakable, layer of reality separates them, because two-dimensional humans cannot break through a plane.

"It's time for you to use your professional skills, Miss Maid," Salomon said after explaining the situation to Natasha. "Find the source of the problem, and then let's... solve it."

Are you surprised I updated so early? Actually, I'm surprised too, because inspiration just won't stop! No, something's not right. These sudden flashes of inspiration didn't originate from me. I just wrote down the whispers in my ear. This isn't my writing! Someone! Someone is watching me, and He wants me to write these things down! What is His purpose? I understand, I understand. He's chuckling, He's watching, He's dancing wildly in the shadows behind the curtains, He's mocking our attempts to understand everything we can't understand. He is…

(End of this chapter)