Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1502 The Lunar War (XIV)

The ambassador listened quietly, slowly swirling the wine glass in his hand.

The damp smell of a storm wafted in from outside the window. Rain was very rare this time of year, especially freezing rain.

"It is said that a certain alien queen was infatuated with Him, but He was only interested in the mathematical theories developed by that civilization. Compared to the beautiful alien queen's bedroom, He was more enthusiastic about the advanced knowledge in the library. At that time, He was wandering in that extremely high-mass region at the center of the galaxy, where the flow of time was different from ours. Only a few years have passed since He became the Pirate King on Earth."

Seemingly to keep his body warm, Viktor von Doom never let his wine glass go empty.

"But He loves the Earth and loves humanity, so He returned, and not long ago even killed a god who was trying to reboot the Earth's ecosystem. He sees himself as a relatively large ant and believes that all humans can be as powerful and intelligent as Him, even if it takes countless years of evolution. He hopes that humanity can exist forever and solve many ancient philosophical problems. He believes that at that time, the intellectual level of the human race will reach an unprecedented level."

"A very interesting legend. So how did you come to know it?" The ambassador shrugged, seemingly unmoved, at least on the surface. The conversational atmosphere eased the tension in the normally serious office. "Even in modern times, there are rulers who claim immortality, attempting to maintain their rule through fear. I don't mean to question your story, but after all, the advanced technology of the Yugoslav Federation and Mars didn't appear out of thin air; it must be supported by fundamental mathematical and physical theories. The idea that an emperor is immortal isn't entirely impossible. Even so, how long can he maintain this idea?"

"So I am here, Mr. Ambassador. I am responsible for establishing the system He envisions, and He will be the driving force behind its continuous reforms and resistance to corruption, because He belongs to no interest group. Violence is the guarantee of power, and He is the representative of extreme violence, therefore He possesses supreme adjudication power. As an idealist, He is never afraid to start over, just as He overthrew the religious and comprador government and rebuilt a new order. When He lays down his sword and takes off his armor, the official documents He handles every day could fill this room. I believe there are such figures in your country's history books, and such a monarch will undoubtedly become a benchmark for cultural identity in future generations."

“You haven’t answered my question, Your Excellency,” the ambassador said. “You can’t convince others with ‘I know I’m right.’ That’s hardly a valid reason.”

"Without extreme violence, we simply cannot sit at the same table," Regent Viktor von Doom said with a smile. "Regardless of ideology, violence is necessary to reach the table for negotiations. We need violence now, and we will need violence in the future. You may consider me a madman, Mr. Ambassador, but you know I am speaking of the fundamental laws governing the world. All the obstacles encountered by the Emperor's reforms, all the vested interests that try to obstruct Him, need to be violently eliminated. I believe that the consequences of failing to thoroughly eradicate the old order in the independence movements of the last century are already evident, even the Yugoslav Federation under Tito's leadership suffered greatly. We will not repeat the same mistakes, absolutely not."

"So you have to resort to violence to speak?"

"I must resort to violence to get anyone to listen to me, including you," Regent Victor von Doom said, pointing to a battle map. "Some people don't need to listen to me, because there's no need; utter annihilation awaits them. Now we're starting to discuss philosophical matters, Mr. Ambassador. I've reserved goodwill, but you haven't."

"How many?"

"A rough estimate is around two hundred thousand. Each one is a superhuman, and there are also many wizards."

A gust of wind squeezed into the room through the window cracks, creating ripples on the surface of the golden liquor.

"Will everyone die?"

"Civilians who pass the genetic test will survive. Considering inbreeding and the caste system, the number of survivors who pass is about 30 percent. He will not leave behind the genetic slave warrior caste of the alien empire near human homeland, nor will He allow the moon to be at risk of being corrupted by witchcraft."

"There are more and more things I don't understand," the ambassador said. "What is the purpose of your existence?"

Have you heard of sandbox bases in the Sahara Desert?

"During the Hydra rebellion, Black Widow released a lot of files. I know about Sandbox Base, which is a base used by S.H.I.E.L.D. to store dangerous materials, hidden in a secret no-man's-land."

"For thousands of years, any country or region found to be abusing witchcraft has been thoroughly cleansed to ensure that no incomprehensible horrors remain to cause incurable mental illness in humanity. I must emphasize that to eliminate the witchcraft contamination caused by one person, we would not hesitate to kill hundreds or thousands of people, because that kind of horror will drive more people insane, and death will be the best gift. It is a Pandora's box, and before it is opened, there will always be people who think they can control what is inside, but no rational being in this universe can do so."

"I heard a threat."

“Yes, it’s a threat,” Victor von Doom said. “S.H.I.E.L.D. tried it once. Their computers were corrupted and killed all the soldiers on the base, trapping the entire space in a time loop that endlessly repeated increasingly horrific massacres. So the Emperor killed every living thing on that base, including the rescue team that went deep inside, who were burned to ashes and their ashes were sent to the sun, because anyone who came into contact with that stuff had no chance of returning to normal. Come with me, Ambassador, I’ve arranged a flight for you. Seeing is believing. You’ll understand why genetic testing is necessary, and why witchcraft needs to be banned.”

"So you and your emperor must wield extreme violence to combat this unspeakable terror?"

"Yes. To be precise, it is He who controls extreme violence." The smile vanished, and the Regent's expression turned as dark as the approaching storm clouds. "It is humanity's innate curse and gift, a thorny path to eternity. We must ensure that everyone stays away from that irresistible force and fulfills humanity's destiny to rule the galaxy."

In this country, if there's anything that can demonstrate violence without words, then the towering, genetically modified warriors are definitely on the list. What earns them this reputation isn't their well-developed muscles, imposing stature, lightning-fast reflexes, or cold, ruthless eyes, but rather the savage weapons in their hands. Firing large-caliber armor-piercing high-explosive warheads, the intense heat released by miniature nuclear fusion can even burn the attacked human body to a charred skeleton.

Only in rare circumstances do genetically modified warriors act in organized units, and only in rare circumstances do ordinary people witness the terror of hundreds of explosive guns firing simultaneously—whether it's sturdy armor or the thick composite armor of armored vehicles, it will be completely stripped and pulverized by the violent torrent of high-temperature metal. No enemy can stand in the face of the firepower of genetically modified warriors—but this time, the genetically modified warriors are fighting for control of corridors and rooms, and the bizarre witchcraft and the so-called superpowers specialized by their mutated genes have brought endless trouble to the genetically modified warriors.

Rally D, a term from the Lunar Campaign, specifically refers to the departure point of the civilian clan's freight light rail. Layers of metal carriages, piled densely with disused locomotives, are utterly twisted into a mountain of rusted metal, black oil, and aging automated transportation systems. In the past, products from heavy industry and labor-intensive sectors, such as machinery and chemicals, still buried in the lunar rocks, were constantly transported to the city via freight elevators and this rail. But since the lower-level factories ceased operations and lost power, and Attilan's main communication system was paralyzed, this transport rail has ceased entirely. A battle once took place here, brief in duration; armored tracks slowly crushed the deformed skeletons charred by the heat of explosive shells, and the captured ventilation system was utterly ineffective in dispersing the stench of burnt flesh and grease.

Amon was certain that this was not an attempt by the Attilaans to reclaim toilet paper.

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(End of this chapter)