Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1472 Intelligence Exchange Meeting (First Update)

Laura Crawford had heard of this restaurant.

When she turned down Oxford and went to the University of London, the chef of this restaurant had already made a name for himself and opened a restaurant near Buckingham Palace catering specifically to the elite—more precisely, the New Money and middle class who valued Michelin ratings, while Whitehall civil servants and conservative politicians preferred to dine at clubs or various receptions. The chefs and waiters there were the most professional, familiar with every guest's preference and taste—Laura Crawford was extremely satisfied with this dinner. She didn't value so-called high-class hospitality; as an aristocrat who had completely integrated into commoner life, she even needed to work to earn her tuition fees. The cost of such a dinner was enough for her to work for a long time, so it was hard for her not to be satisfied.

The only thing that made her uncomfortable was Athena sitting next to her.

Although the woman was all smiles, knowledgeable, witty, and Salomon's foster mother, Laura Crawford hadn't forgotten the fleeting impression she'd had at the art exhibition. That supernatural phenomenon proved that this seemingly young woman—like a witch, appearing to be in her early twenties but possessing a remarkably mature air—possessed some kind of power she couldn't comprehend. She was no longer surprised; after all, she had witnessed many things beyond her wildest imagination at Kamar-Taj and Oxfordshire Manor. Ever since she learned that her father, Richard Crawford, had taken something that didn't belong to the Crawford family the day he went to Kamar-Taj, Laura Crawford understood that her fate was inextricably linked to Kamar-Taj, to Him.

As for how her father managed to retrieve the resurrection scroll from the heavily guarded Kamar-Taj Library, obtain the instructions, and use them on his wife who froze to death in a plane crash in the mountains, that remains another mystery. Although Laura Crawford suspected the Sorcerer Supreme, whom she had never met, was involved, she lacked concrete evidence. Even her butler, Winston, knew very little about it, making it impossible for her to piece together all the details of this long-forgotten event from over a decade ago. She could only speculate that Salomon might have met her father, Richard Crawford; after all, she had witnessed people from all over the world seeking help at the Kamar-Taj's Kathmandu anteroom, and Kamar-Taj had generously granted the requests of the vast majority. Who would seek out such a legendary place unless driven by utter despair?

"You bought all the wine in the restaurant?"

"It's a necessary security check procedure. I certainly didn't tell you about injecting poison into the wine through the cork." Under the stern gazes of Bayonetta and Joan of Arc, he still couldn't control his love of storytelling. In fact, when they met at the restaurant, Bayonetta had pressed a gun to his abdomen and fired three shots. She had used a silencer, and there was no bloodshed in the restaurant; otherwise, this dinner would have ended with a medical team arriving and all the staff running away. It seemed that he was able to tell stories here because of some tacit understanding, and the witches didn't mention the conflict that had occurred at the art museum not long ago. "In the traditional culture of some worlds from the past, wine was a symbol of weakness, a symbol of will yielding to a soft bed, because back then wine was sweet, very sweet. So some people thought that wine was not the warrior's drink, but the blood of wealth. In a country that revered strength, a ruler who drank a lot of wine would be considered a fat man who was incapable of riding a horse into battle."

Laura Crawford was listening carefully at first, but she realized what was going on when she saw Athena's smile.

"This is definitely a story you made up." She was both angry and amused. Before this, she had always regarded Salomon as a source of information about ancient secrets, and also as a scholar who was good at reconstructing the past using modern language and scientific perspectives. But now it seemed that no one knew how many fabricated stories they had heard in the past, especially those stories Salomon told Milia. Maybe they were all just made up to trick children into going to sleep.

"The Mongols certainly didn't dislike wine. Pope Innocent IV commissioned the Portuguese envoy Carpini to go to Mongolia, and that envoy tasted Yuan Dynasty wine. It is said that Kublai Khan also particularly liked wine and even demanded wine from wine shops as a tax tribute. I also saw ceramic bottles used by Mongol noble soldiers to hold wine in Kitt, which shows that wine and mare's milk wine had the same status."

Salomon showed no embarrassment at having his fabricated story exposed; instead, he was delighted that the adventure would be so helpful to her academic career. He extended his hand, and Wanda, who was conversing with the witches, immediately understood—he had entrusted this matter to Wanda, who was delighted to be involved in some routine affairs instead of just participating in combat missions. "University of London will agree to let her continue her studies," Wanda's psychic powers transmitted her words, unheard by others. Just like at this dinner, the witches and Salomon, Salomon and Athena, Athena and the witches were all communicating in ways other than sound. Wanda cheerfully said, "No need for checks, just a little magic"—followed by platitudes about resuming suspended university courses, further studies in history, and new archaeological projects, including an invitation to a private ski resort at an Alpine estate.

He stated that he and the witch wouldn't stay at the manor indefinitely, given the damp and gloomy British winters, which are detrimental to health. However, he also clarified that this was merely a vacation, not some unannounced archaeological adventure. The compensation for the previous deceptive adventures included several cars, a box of weapons, and a private jet, and the outcomes had been very satisfactory for both parties.

"Every adventure of yours reveals an unknown past, and every time I learn secrets that even you don't know. If you still have doubts about my funding, I can only tell you that my gains far exceed your imagination," he said. "But this time is an exception; I simply can't stand the British winter anymore."

"The Paititi people?" Laura Crawford asked. "I don't want their lives to get worse."

"The Paititi people are still too primitive. I helped them move towards mechanized agriculture. At least they can grow crops on a large scale on volcanic ash now. I'll buy up the surplus grain and sell them more modern equipment at a low price. Besides that, there's also a small fusion reactor." Salomon steered the conversation back. "As far as I know, you brought back some collectibles from Paititi."

“Those are souvenirs! Most of them are pre-colonial trinkets!” Laura Crawford said somewhat embarrassedly. She took out her phone to show everyone the photos she had taken of Paititi, including souvenirs she had stuffed into the cargo hold of her Gulfstream private jet. It was a bad habit of hers; she would take some small souvenirs with her on every adventure. She had also found the “Kite Cross” from the Lost City and given one of them as a gift to Salomon, which was now lying in a display case on the estate. “There’s also a plastic penguin. Peruvian fishermen sometimes keep penguins as pets and bring them on their fishing boats, which proves that the Paititi people may have had some interaction with the coastal areas, which is why they worshipped that penguin as some kind of symbol.”

Please vote for me!

The aftereffects are really killing me.

(End of this chapter)