Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1339 Summarizing the Controversy (First Update)

"Shall we talk?"

The witch's red-soled black high heels hung lightly from her toes, which were wrapped in translucent black thread, swaying like a swing in the wind. Exquisite triangular gold earrings, made of gemstones, were hidden beneath her hair, swaying with her movements just like the heels. Salomon nodded, and Hammurabi tactfully left the brightly lit living room to prepare fuel and ammunition for tomorrow's flight, leaving the witch and her master alone. Diana discreetly offered a half-full glass of wine, so her master could have a sip of chilled liquor to perk herself up. Although it wasn't necessary, Salomon accepted the maid's kindness.

"I saw the news. This isn't like you."

The witch held a wine glass, her light gray eyes behind her glasses gleaming in the light; she looked like she had already drunk quite a bit.

Due to their upbringing and habits, the cellar is mostly filled with expensive wines. Even though they aren't professional sommeliers or wine connoisseurs, he and the witch still treat them as a substitute for drinking water. In the foreseeable future, the children he and the witch adopt will be the same, except that he'll remind Milia to drink less then, since she doesn't have the same powerful liver as him and the witch to jump out and beat people up.

"Milia was asking where you were before she fell asleep today." Bayonetta raised an eyebrow, offering her half-full glass after her partner had taken a big gulp of liquor. "I also gave her a glass of wine as a reward for her hard training today. Would you like to see her training record?"

"I'm sorry, I'll go check on her later. As for the training records—there's no need, I trust the witch's training methods—I just hope she didn't drink too much. This isn't the age for heavy drinking; her mind needs to be stabilized."

Salomon sat down beside the witch, casually tossing the Cheshire Cat off Bayonetta's lap before effortlessly sprawling down. His breath tickled the witch's lower abdomen, but Bayonetta endured the tingling sensation, her face remaining impassive. Salomon didn't inquire excessively about Milia's training, as witches were skilled wielders of demonic weapons, ensuring their safety. If the witches' behavior exceeded Kamar-Taj's tolerance limits, they wouldn't be enjoying their lives at the Oxfordshire manor now.

"I didn't expect Victor to be so radical this time; it's not like him as a bureaucrat. I thought he would send a knight to the hearing to leave some room for Latvian in the international arena."

He noticed that the witch was wearing only stockings under her black silk embroidered nightgown with gold thread, and Bayonetta noticed the same, a hint of mockery in her eyes. She knew perfectly well that Salomon had understood her hint, just as he had the day before, and she looked forward to his performance tonight, hoping it would satisfy her as always.

"What do we do now?" Bayonetta toyed with Salomon's smooth, long black hair, skillfully braiding a few strands from beside her ear into a small plait, then wrapping it around the back of her head and tying it up. When she wasn't wearing the laurel wreath, she had the final say on the emperor's hairstyle. "This isn't going to be easy to resolve; you'll be working overtime for a while longer."

"I'll just admit it, I don't care about international reputation anyway. It's like Latveria still has this thing. Right now, there are plenty of people in the world hoping I die." He said slowly with his eyes closed, enjoying the witch's caresses and inhaling the rich fragrance emanating from Bayonetta's body. "As long as you're strong enough, others will willingly ignore your past shame and seek cooperation. Besides, Gideon Malik's performance has already made the tycoons in that circle realize the power of rejuvenation surgery. The world's richest people would want to live ten more years."

He took the witch's hand and kissed it gently. "This is something money couldn't buy in the past. The politicians they manipulate naturally know how to speak. Capital has no borders, but people do. It's the former, not the latter, that determines one's stance. The former's knees aren't as hard as you might think. For the sake of asset appreciation, life is also a very important factor. My love, don't worry about this. It won't take long to solve this problem. I don't need to work overtime tomorrow."

"Your words of courtship this time were quite peculiar," Bayonetta finally laughed. She felt she had discussed enough outside matters in the manor today, and she planned to save the matter of the two Moon Wolf Holy Swords (the Sage's weapons) in the armory for breakfast tomorrow. Latveria wasn't Salomon's main project; the dangerous scientific research in the Immortal City was. Bayonetta didn't intend to reveal everything at once; that would only be irritating. "Jeanne isn't asleep yet. We can continue with what we did last night; she's very curious about what it feels like to be tied up."

"Give me ten minutes, I need to eat something. You won't believe it, my entire dinner time has been taken up by documents. Qualified civil servants are so rare." Salomon sat up abruptly, and Dinah quietly left the living room to prepare her master's food. While Salomon ate his dinner, she had to prepare the props needed later. He grumbled as he walked towards the dining room, "That damn Victor, deliberately making things difficult for me..."

Despite his complaints, he still stood in the castle of the royal city of Latveria the next day and began to take on a large amount of work. Although he did not appear in public, everyone living in the city could feel the emperor's presence. Even ordinary people without psychic abilities could feel the light emanating from the royal castle, like air—invisible yet perceptible.

In fact, if it weren't for ensuring the safety of the people of Latvia, the Emperor wouldn't have deliberately revealed his stigmata. Whenever he walked the streets of the various cities and villages within the territory, no one noticed him; everyone treated him as an insignificant passerby rather than a charismatic figure. Regent Victor von Doom arranged many grand tours for the Emperor to stabilize the areas where extreme nationalist conflicts were most intense and to appease the people. This itinerary naturally met with opposition from Constantine, the commander of the Praetorian Guard, but the Emperor still agreed to the Regent's actions, completely disregarding the lesson learned from the shooting at Serrajevo.

"They've seen the emperor, and they'll submit. But what then?" Constantine asked. "What will the common people think when they find that the glorious figure they've submitted to has been replaced by an insignificant, mediocre local governor? The fervor will eventually dissipate, and the emperor needs a more solid foundation for his rule, not to be waved around like a figurehead."

“How could I not know, Constantine?” Victor von Doom replied with a sly look. “He knows the consequences of doing this, but it’s one of the few ways to quickly stabilize the situation before our measures to combat famine, illiteracy, and unemployment are implemented. He knows that, otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to my arrangement. Commander, I suggest you keep a close eye on Steve Rogers and his squad; my informants have discovered they’ve recently been buying NATO-caliber ammunition on the black market.”

Constantine's response was rather cold. He gripped his halberd tightly. "I know my informants have been watching them, but I must stand here and veto any action that might endanger the Emperor. It is my duty to advise the Emperor."

“If we think like bodyguards, then the Emperor will be confined to the Immortal City.” Victor von Doom patted Constantine’s arm guard, took a few steps, and left the path to the Emperor’s magnificent oak doors to the Imperial Guard Commander. “You can make decisions for him, but only if he agrees to one of your resolutions. We need his ruling to settle our dispute, shall we?”

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(End of this chapter)