Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 132 The Beginning of Frenzy (Second Update!)

Salomon finished an adventure novel with the pace of writing 30,000 words a day. By the time he finished, it was already late at night. Agent Coulson took the manuscript back to his room, intending to memorize it all night. The arcane mage groggily lay down in bed, immediately enveloped by a warm body. Natasha Romanov made no attempt to hide anything; she removed her combat suit and helped Salomon tidy his belongings on the bedside table. The arcane mage didn't open his eyes the entire time, simply letting Romanov help him undress. He had no mood to appreciate the scenery; he needed a good night's sleep to replenish his energy.

"Sleep well, magician," Natasha whispered. "You have work to do tomorrow morning."

The next morning, Salomon woke up late, having had a standard eight hours of sleep. When he opened his eyes, he found Natasha already dressed and sitting beside him. "Agent Coulson is already up. Randolph Carter left early; I don't know where he's going. I suggest we stop following him for now to avoid provoking him," she said, recounting what had happened while Salomon was asleep. Then, with a teasing tone, she added, "You're nothing like a teenage boy. You didn't react at all when I hugged you. I even wonder if you're interested in women."

"Heh." Salomon chuckled dismissively. "Of course I'm interested, Agent Romanov. I have to admit you're beautiful, both in terms of your face and your figure. But if I didn't have this self-control, I wouldn't have gotten a perfect score in my first lesson. And what I care about isn't your beauty, but your ability. Everything else is worthless to me. Also... I prefer girls with abs."

"Thank you for the compliment, Sir Damonette. You're absolutely right; your browsing history proves it. But there must be something else besides that, right?"

"What's wrong with liking anime girls! Don't look at my browsing history next time, that's my privacy!" Salomon blushed immediately after being exposed. "And what are you doing here?"

"Then perhaps you should use a different computer to watch those things. I didn't even know you had such heavy tastes." Natasha raised her eyebrows in satisfaction. "Besides, I am your maid. I have to stay here and serve my master. This is the role I'm playing this time."

"Okay, okay." Salomon rubbed his hands together, jumped out of the warm bed, and quickly put on his clothes. "What's Agent Coulson doing right now?"

"He took the gold you gave him, exchanged it for some pennies, and then went to the town tavern, hoping to gather information there." Natasha curled her lip, fully expressing her sarcasm. "Looks like not everyone in this town is particularly devout, otherwise the tavern wouldn't be open so early in the morning."

"They demand piety from others, but as for themselves... well, whatever. It's human nature to be lenient with oneself and strict with others." Salomon dressed and took everything he needed, including Excalibur. He said, "We can wait until Randolph Carter returns before saying goodbye; leaving without saying goodbye is not gentlemanly."

"But now... let's get going. Let's finish the exploration before the owner of this house returns." Natasha showed Salomon the equipment on her wrist. "Even without a gun, I can handle this. I suggest you conserve your bullets; in this era, only smoothbore muskets are usable."

"I have a wand, I have magic, I even have a sword."

"You can lend me your sword; I've learned a little swordsmanship."

"Don't even think about it, Natasha Romanov." Salomon rejected the offer. "There are only two people in the world qualified to wield this sword, and you're not one of them."

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"Alright, no intelligence." In the afternoon, Agent Coulson returned to Carter's residence, sitting dejectedly in a guest room chair. "I've booked three rooms at the hotel. Perhaps we can expand our area of ​​operation tomorrow. Any findings?"

“A little.” Salomon sat on the bed, his boots still stained with black mud. He said, “Even after I took out the Agamotto crystal ball, I couldn’t find the source of the alien magic or the monster’s lair, because the forest is full of alien magic. But we did notice some areas where the magic was more concentrated, and we found something there…”

“There’s more than one clearing in the woods, and people have been in all of them.” Natasha had changed into local clothing, completely covering her in her tight-fitting combat suit—something Salomon had asked her to buy herself after the reconnaissance mission. She said, “We found many footprints there, fresh footprints. Some were local shoe prints, which are easy to identify, and some were barefoot footprints. And while the footprints seemed random, they actually followed a pattern, like…like some kind of dance. Judging from the size of the footprints, they should all be women’s footprints.”

"A witches' gathering," Salomon mentioned the word. "There really are witches in this town."

"Then Abigail can be ruled out. She didn't leave the house last night, nor the past few days." Coulson shrugged. "Remember those girls we met last night? I ran into them today and chatted with them for a while. Actually, they were performing some kind of ritual last night, which Abigail told them about. Her uncle seems to have known about it all along, and the poor girl's lunch was canceled. But I still managed to sneak her some food from the tavern—the same stuff you just ate. I bought three servings."

"What's the origin of the ritual?" Natasha asked. "Is it Titus? I haven't studied American history; I'm Russian."

“That’s right.” Coulson nodded. “The black girl was also punished, just before Randolph Carter left home. The locals seem to be somewhat hostile towards the Voodoo faith.”

“Even three hundred years from now, it’s not surprising that Puritans will still be hostile to infidels,” Salomon sighed. “The current situation is that there really are witches in town, but they have nothing to do with Abigail and Titus, right? Those rituals are completely useless; there’s not a single magical element in them.”

“Yes, maybe those witches are what's causing our strange situation. Salomon, let's shift our focus away from Abigail and Titus; she's not the culprit,” Coulson said optimistically. “While we don't know who the witches are, we'll find them and resolve this, because I've also discovered the disappearances of non-white children in town, and perhaps those are the work of the witches. As for Randolph Carter, I think we'll have results tonight, but before that, we need to deal with something else.”

"What is it?"

"The Salem witch trials," Coulson said. "They've begun. I heard rumors in the tavern that the one who fell ill was that girl we all know, the Putman's maid, Mary Walcott. Reverend Paris went to her house to exorcise the demon, but it was no use. I swore to protect the innocent, and I will do so again this time."

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However, things did not unfold as Coulson had imagined. As dusk approached, Mary Walcott, having calmed down again, confessed to what she had done in the woods, revealing that the rituals had been taught by Titus, a black slave girl from Randolph Carter's household.

Thus, blind faith and fanaticism began to spread like sparks in dry grass.

Superstitious and fanatical townspeople, carrying torches, followed the Putman adults toward Randolph Carter's house. Agent Coulson pushed Titusa through the gates, leaving her with Abigail, and instructed Natasha and Salomon to look after them. He stood alone at the gate, blocking the townspeople from entering. Unwilling to harm them, Agent Coulson could only lean against the gate, barely managing to shove the fanatical crowd.

No matter what he said, these people wouldn't listen. The residents felt they didn't need to listen to an outsider, and Ann Putman's parents even threatened Coulson that they would throw torches at him if he didn't move aside.

Coulson took a deep breath. "No." He pulled out his pistol. "Don't even think about it."

"How do you think Coulson will handle this?" Salomon stood by the door, looking at Natasha and the trembling Titus and Abigail in her arms. "Have you encountered anything like this during your missions?"

“Often,” Natasha said, “but back then we had guns, lots of guns, and high-tech equipment, even Quinjet fighters.”

"If that doesn't work, I'll protect Agent Coulson," Salomon said. "Don't worry, I won't kill them. Just broken bones."

"Don't be afraid, Titusa," Abigail said, standing on tiptoe to comfort the servant who was older than her. "Mr. Coulson is a very capable scholar; he will persuade them, and Miss Maid will protect you."

Titusa didn't answer; she simply hugged her shoulders and nestled in Natasha's arms.

"Listen to me! Listen to me!" Agent Coulson yelled. "Calm down! You need to understand, you have no right to do this!"

"It's God who gave us this power! She's the one who summoned the devil!" They brandished torches, their faces contorted with rage. "Get out of here, you Londoners! This isn't London, get out! Get back to your cabins!"

"What happened?" The tense atmosphere eased slightly when Randolph Carter pushed his way through the crowd and appeared before the enthusiastic residents. Unlike Coulson, Randolph Carter enjoyed immense prestige in the area, not only because of his position at the Boston seminary, but also because he was the town's wise man, and many people sought his advice.

"I initially thought what happened yesterday was one of my daughter's and her friends' usual pranks. But this morning, my maid, Mary, suddenly became unwell and struggled as if she had a fever," Mr. Putman said. "She even made strange noises and tried to strangle the priest."

"She was incredibly strong, unlike a young girl at all," Reverend Paris chimed in. "It was as if... as if she were possessed by a demon! And then, we found this in the straw of her bed."

Pastor Paris produced a rather crude wooden doll. "This is a tool witches use for curses!"

"My daughter confessed," Mr. Putman said. "This thing was made by Titus!"

Coulson looked at Ann Putman, who was hiding behind Mr. Putman. The girl looked terrified. "I had no idea!" she cried, almost hysterically, her face pale even in the torchlight. "That thing was so terrifying! It was a tool used in witchcraft!"

"They took that thing themselves!" Abigail muttered indignantly from behind the door. "They did it all themselves..."

Salomon glanced at Abigail, the girl before him still shrouded in mystery. Was this girl the one who escaped from Balthazar's seal? If not, then where was Abigail? And what exactly was this Abigail?

Randolph Carter opened the door and let Titusa out. Coulson had tried to stop him, but to no avail. When Randolph Carter saw Salomon standing in front of him, he whispered something the arcane mage had never expected, something only he could hear.

I've been updating so diligently, how can I not give you votes? I wonder if anyone has figured out from the foreshadowing who's behind this?

(End of this chapter)