Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1481 Intelligence Classification System (Second Update)

"Stark Industries' intelligent security system connects to the local police alarm system and surveillance cameras. It requires a password and fingerprint to deactivate," Natasha Romanoff muttered to herself as she put on gloves. "What kind of gang would install a security system connected to the local police, hmm?" She used a screwdriver to pry open the intelligent alarm system at the door, located the interface, and inserted the control key. She didn't need to understand the principles; she only needed to know how to use it. "Of course, it's a gang that has deals with the police, isn't it? This is all too common; ninety percent of the cases I encounter are like this. Why aren't you saying anything, Mr. Amon?"

"A 90% probability is too low. Due to the gaps between different police systems, it is easy for outsiders to join and most of them are not regular police officers. Therefore, the existence of gangs means that most county law enforcement agencies have explicit or implicit transactions with local gangs that have replaced certain grassroots administrative functions. This includes communication and transactions between prisoners in BR County Jail and outsiders, etc."

"This is really bad... You should shut up now, or I'm going to fall asleep."

"Your request has been formally denied," Amon said expressionlessly. In front of him was only a screen, its reflection shimmering on the marble floor. The Imperial Guard could see everything Natasha Romanov saw through this screen. "To ensure you are unaware, your heart rate, respiration, and blood oxygen levels indicate that your current physical condition is not optimistic."

"You're quite meticulous, big guy." Natasha Romanov walked into the 24-hour heated mansion in her soft-soled sneakers, even though the owner wasn't there. The electrodes attached to her body made her a little uncomfortable; if she were wearing Yugoslavian bulletproof armor, these functions wouldn't require electrodes. She didn't head straight for the room indicated by the intelligence, but carefully searched every room, including the bathroom, toilet, bedroom, and kitchen, as well as the target room indicated by the intelligence. She took the opportunity to place more than ten miniature listening devices from her pockets in inconspicuous places such as vents, behind the sink, and under the sofa, and also sprayed some WD-40 on the creaking hinges of the target bedroom door to ensure it wouldn't make a sound the next time it was opened.

The search lasted twenty minutes. She found a safe but didn't open it; instead, she noted down the model number and manufacturer. This action puzzled Amon. "I don't have any equipment, and I don't want to use fingerprint powder now—that would be too obvious. I don't want other gang leaders to know that someone in this city is targeting them," Natasha Romanov said casually. "Next time I come here, someone will open this safe for me. If not, I'll open it myself."

"Haven't you considered the length of your leave, Agent Romanov?" Amon said slowly. "Your leave of absence isn't unlimited; you must return to the space station within a limited time."

I will try my best.

"Your system access privileges will not be extended, and you will receive no support at that time. Our Lord will not order an airstrike on Eilson Air Force Base in Alaska to divert your attention. Now is not the time to send America back to World War II. America is still useful now," Amon said. "Our Lord will not let go of such a complete industrial system; it is a usable asset in the fight against alien invasion."

"How could you tell me this? Aren't you afraid I'll tell others?"

"No one will believe you," Amon said. "The American leadership has received our Lord's warning. We have the capability to wipe out all European and American communications satellites, forcing America to revert to its Vietnam War and even World War II operational methods. We have proven this with force and technology. That's why, when attacking NATO's Southern European allies, the US Congress proactively stopped the military operations of France and Italy. Of course, this required bloodshed, so our enemies are dead."

"What a boring story." Natasha Romanoff quietly closed the door. Without the support of the intelligence system, she couldn't have bypassed the outer security system to get into this mansion, let alone know how to enter and the flaws in the internal security system. This was the result of the efforts of many technicians and intelligence analysts, and she was certain that this information didn't exist on the space station before she contacted Victoria Hand. "One last target. They'll have a settlement in two days, and then I'll get what I want."

"I will oversee the final setup of the listening device," Amon said. "After that, I have other work to do."

"Would you mind revealing a little?"

"mind."

"You're just like your master; your penchant for secrecy is practically identical," Natasha Romanov complained, frowning as she restarted the security system. "Did he instill secrecy into your brain along with your transformation?" As one of the few who knew the difference between the Royal Guard and the Knights, she naturally knew the Royal Guard's transformation goals. These genetically modified, immortal warriors were created to fight against an even more terrifying darkness, but her few encounters with them had left her surprised and uncomfortable with their existence. She didn't know who in the world could defeat such warriors, or whether future enemies would require such extreme force to overcome. She decided to drop the subject, because before the real crisis arrived, all prophets were condemned as madmen. Now, the entire Yugoslav Federation, Europe, America, and even the entire planet were affected by the prophecies of madmen or prophets. What was even more terrifying was that this madman might be right, and he might even have the ability to change the situation or exert influence.

"I don't understand what you're talking about. I think you understand the necessity of an intelligence hierarchy."

"Then he definitely didn't tell you that during that one and only time, we were lying in the same bathtub. I wasn't wearing any clothes at the time."

"I have full access to the Salem files." Amon hesitated for a moment. "I will supplement the relevant details in the files."

Natasha Romanov couldn't help but laugh. "Now I'm starting to appreciate your rigor, Amon."

She glanced at the television, which was still on. The owner of this mansion seemed completely unconcerned about electricity bills; the ever-present television wasn't just for watching, but also to make the empty house seem less desolate. It was through this satellite TV that the Skysword Space Station's intelligence system was able to decode the mansion's Wi-Fi information, providing some assistance to her operations. On the television, a local news anchor was introducing a recent speech and interview by the Emperor of Yugoslavia, America's most feared enemy, and the initiator of terrorism—however, the American media seemed to have forgotten that this was the information age; the Emperor's speech had been broadcast worldwide, including to the United States, through information technology. The Emperor denounced pampered education and religious ignorance of the common people, attributing the wealth and power of those in power to ancestral accumulation and luck, instead of revealing the bloody primitive accumulation of capital to the public. He even used neoliberal divisive tactics, leaving ordinary people oppressed without their awareness.

No one knew how many supporters the emperor had on this land, and the American media seemed completely indifferent. The people on this land were utterly unaware that the struggles of this world weren't about authoritarianism versus democracy; no matter how clear the emperor's speeches were, as long as the government declared war on Yugoslavia, a large number of ignorant people would support him. Natasha Romanov didn't have high hopes for the emperor's cause. Before the massive losses of the Vietnam War, these civilians would only cheer for the victors; whoever won, they would support.

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)