Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1387 The Rebellious Period (Second Update)

The Cheshire Cat lay on the blanket, squinting its eyes, enjoying the caresses from its mistress.

Bayonetta nimbly hooked its tail with her toes, and the obese cat, its body covered in fat, immediately lay on its back, stretching its short limbs as far as possible, purring even louder. Sometimes Salomon was curious about the Cheshire Cat's biomimetic movements—essentially, the Cheshire Cat was an extradimensional being sustained by his power in the material universe, a fragment of emotion he had selected and captured from the vast sea of ​​souls. Its form in the real universe was shaped by him and its own mind—before this, this soul had never had a form or self-awareness, let alone be aware that it was a cat. Therefore, Salomon saw the Cheshire Cat's biomimetic movements as an extension of self-awareness, an influence of the real plane on the soul through flesh and consciousness, perfectly conforming to the theories of alchemy.

But if anyone uses this theory to explain why the Cheshire Cat is so gluttonous, it will only invite the Emperor's ridicule. The angels, demons, and elves of mythology are essentially no different from the Cheshire Cat; they don't need food from the real world to sustain their bodies constructed from extradimensional energy. The Cheshire Cat, however, is a minority, maintaining its intact physical form for so long, because those who have made contracts with it have vast amounts of energy for it to squander. When Salomon led Joan of Arc into the bedroom, she went straight to the bathroom, removing her clothes and beginning to enjoy the bath prepared for her by Diana. Salomon then went to Bayonetta, who was already dressed in a black silk robe, reclining on the pillows reading a book.

The Cheshire Cat barely opened its eyes and greeted Salomon.

Salomon pinched the cat by the scruff of its neck, whispered something near its fluttering ears, and then tossed the 13-kilogram obese cat against a wall covered in dark green linen wallpaper. The barriers of the material universe seemed meaningless to extradimensional beings; the translucent, obese cat pierced the wall like a flying lead ball, tumbling down several rooms away. Milia was clearly still awake, still throwing a tantrum—the Cheshire Cat appeared at her bedside with incredible speed, surrounded by flying cats and translucent phantom dust. The gray, fat cat sniffed her hair, confirming it was its target. This cat, bigger than the girl's head, blocked Milia's view, and she immediately hugged the Cheshire Cat, burying her wet face in its short, blue-green striped fur.

“The Cheshire Cat tells Milia bedtime stories,” Salomon said to the witch. He sat on the edge of the bed and peered at the paper book in Bayonetta’s hands. “Asimov, huh? I didn’t expect you to like science fiction.”

"I have my rebellious phase too. Witches don't always throw lizards and bat claws into the cauldron." The black-haired witch looked up from her paper book and couldn't help but laugh. "I'm not some petty person who would hold a grudge against Milia for a fight." She threw down the book, hugged Salomon's shoulders, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I just told her to eat broccoli."

"Perhaps next time we could consider having Diana cook the vegetables a little better." Salomon kissed Bayonetta's ear; the wet sensation and her breath tickled her neck. "Milia's mind and body are different from ordinary children. In just six months, she has grown the height of an average child by three years," he said sincerely. "This has a great impact on her mind. Even if her mind grows fast enough, she's still only a few years old."

Bayonetta closed her eyes, and like a slippery snake, began to coil her long legs around Salomon's waist. "I know," she said, slowly increasing her strength, applying a force capable of crushing steel to Salomon's bones. Her black silk robe cascaded down her body like water, like a black python shedding its skin before swallowing its prey. She wore nothing beneath the robe, making the scene not only intensely erotic but also exaggeratedly ferocious and wicked, just like the witch herself—alluring yet dangerous. "But she will become a witch; she has the power."

"It's up to you, darling."

Salomon supported her thighs and hips, lifting Bayonetta, who was clinging tightly to him, off the bed.

The bathroom door was wide open, the spacious room filled with steam rising from the hot water. The light from numerous scented candles illuminated the grotesque gargoyle statues, and the shimmering water reflected the glow of the lights and candles, creating a dynamic water ripple pattern on the walls. As an ancient building, even the bathroom was filled with artworks Salomon had collected from all over the world. The witches loved his decorating style, especially the practice of storing weapons in the bathroom, which they highly praised.

Salomon carried Bayonetta into the bathroom, their suppressed laughter ultimately drawing Joan of Arc's displeasure and glare. She attempted to shoo the other two away by splashing water from the bathtub, which could be used as a pool. Bayonetta was the first to jump in; her thin black silk nightgown was soaking wet and rolled up, the exquisite gold thread embroidery completely submerged in the wrinkles, becoming a blurry mass of gold thread.

As Joan of Arc rose from the water and began to shout angrily, the latter, who had just entered the bathroom, swept her up in his arms.

Salomon admired the wet body in his arms, his deep incantation resonating in the real world, echoing the spell hidden within Joan of Arc's heart. Salomon's thoughts connected with Joan's; in that instant, they could both see each other's thoughts. Joan saw an obsidian-like volcano standing beneath a blood-red sky, its lava boiling with surging lust. Salomon saw a comfortable, large bed enclosed by curtains. He lifted the heavy curtains and saw a fair, alluring figure lying on the bed, her grey eyes, like the grey sky of winter, fixed on him. A fragrant ointment was evenly applied to Joan's skin, clinging to her snow-white hair. Her only attire consisted of a breastplate, necklace, and gold armlets crafted from gold thread and jewels. Beneath her flawless, white skin lay strong muscles, as alluring and powerful as Ishtar from ancient Sumerian mythology.

She was like a lioness crouching on a sweet, cuddly bed, ready to pounce on her prey at any moment.

It was a metaphor, yet incredibly vivid—dopamine and serotonin molecules began to surge forth into the synaptic cleft at that moment—the blissful feeling brought on by serotonin surged forth, and the surge of dopamine made all her anger vanish without a trace. Joan blushed, unsurprisingly. She bit her lower lip, turning her gaze away, refusing to look at the man who had made her so vulnerable. Every time, she failed in this way, even with Bayonetta. Salomon knew how to arouse their desires, as familiar with their souls as he was with their bodies.

He had "personally witnessed" the outer-dimensional marks on their souls, the aftereffects of magic and contracts, and he had always wanted to resolve this issue completely, releasing their souls and granting the witches freedom. This might anger Lady Butterfly and Lady Styx, the two extradimensional beings who had made contracts with the witches, but Salomon was not worried. He was a master of contracts, a disciple of the Sorcerer Supreme, and the future ruler of Kamar-Taj. After leaving the manor, he would fight like a lion, and even against Lady Butterfly and Lady Styx, whom he had only met once before, he believed he would not fail.

Dina, wrapped in a bath towel, entered the bathroom and placed the headphones he was using on a tray lined with a snow-white, dry towel. She brought an ointment and applied it to Salomon and the witch. As a homunculus maid, Dina arranged all of Salomon's daily life, and she also had the right to interfere in any matters concerning Salomon's life. In some matters, even the witch would listen to her advice. For example, the rose oil ointment that Dina used was a rare treasure that she had searched all over the world for, which she believed was most suitable for use in her master's pleasure.

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(End of this chapter)