Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 164 The Veteran Driver Crashes (Second Update)

"Are you serious?" Coulson slapped his forehead as soon as he asked. "My bad, I should have remembered your identity. Were those sulfur-poisoned Hell's Angels gang members killed by that stowaway from hell? Well, that sounds ironic. Do you need any help? Like... holy water from the church? Do you need to hire a priest before you leave?"

Salomon looked at Agent Coulson with the disdain one might have for someone mentally challenged, but Coulson remained completely oblivious to the problem in his statement. "We don't need priests," the sorcerer said. "Besides, the Roman Catholic Church doesn't have holy water, the Eastern Orthodox Church doesn't, the Protestants don't, let alone the Anglican Church. As for the Mormons… ugh, I think they should die before the devil. When are you sending someone to make your move?"

"You mean Ghost Rider?" Coulson pointed to the monitor screen, somewhat puzzled. "Do you need us to stop Ghost Rider right now? Captain America is getting ready to go; you'll need to wait a bit longer."

"No, I'm talking about the Mormons. When are you sending agents to wipe them out?"

"Okay~ I didn't expect you to change the subject so quickly." Coulson rolled his eyes, trying to get help from Agent Victoria Hand, who was standing in front of several monitoring screens. But Agent Hand didn't even glance at Coulson and Salomon—Nick Fury had forbidden Agent Hand from contacting Salomon, so this agent, known for her tough methods, treated Salomon like air. As long as the arcane mage didn't hinder the operation, she wouldn't interfere, and wouldn't even utter a sound. After his attempts to get help through his eyes failed, Agent Coulson forced a smile.

"We won't kill Mormons; we uphold freedom of religion," he said with a forced smile. "Unless they break the law, and besides, bigamy is prohibited in the United States..."

"Then you'd better hurry up. Isn't S.H.I.E.L.D. a global organization? Mormon babies are being born all over the world every moment. The last time I heard of a Mormon was that he married over a hundred wives..."

"OK, OK, let's focus on the mission." Agent Coulson waved his hand frantically in front of Salomon, trying to get the arcane's attention back. "Right now, we're only concerned with Ghost Rider and those guys who died under mysterious circumstances, like those who drowned on dry roads. We just want to know, which ones were your targets responsible?"

"Don't worry, Coulson, that guy's been caught." Salomon gave up his charade and pointed to an autopsy report on his tablet. "That corrupted elemental creature is now in a stone-built pool; he can't escape. But he's just a lackey; the guy from hell is still alive."

"Anything else?"

"And... sorry, that's our problem from now on." The arcane mage waved his hand. "We'll deal with that Hell stowaway. If he's lucky, he can return to Hell and face his father's punishment; if he's unlucky, his final destination will be the dissection table—my dissection table, not yours. Get me out of here, Coulson, the underground tunnels in this base are far too complicated."

Coulson blinked, assuming Salomon would simply cast a spell to leave. Faced with the agent's question, the arcane mage explained that he didn't want to waste his magic; why use magic when something could be solved by burning someone else's gasoline?

"Where do you want me to take you, downtown?" Coulson led Salomon to the underground parking garage. "You've already seen it, Laura, it's a Corvette C2. Don't let its antique appearance fool you, it's very special. Don't ask me, I'm not going to tell you."

"Is this some kind of revenge for my mystical ways of doing things?" Salomon opened the car door and got into the passenger seat. "I know how special a flying car is, but my horse can fly too, so I'm not envious at all."

"I'll never brag to you about anything again, and besides, you said your horse can fly? That's really weird—but what weird thing haven't I experienced?" Agent Coulson rolled his eyes and drove the car out of the underground garage. "Want to try some burritos? I know a good place."

"Of course, I've had enough of Lancastrian court cuisine. The British really can't cook. You wouldn't believe it, they can't even roast pork properly, and they call it 'retro'." Salomon looked around after the car drove out of the underground garage. He had come in a jeep before and couldn't see the base's location. Now, sitting in this red convertible, he could observe his surroundings properly—this was a military base, and there were some heavily armed American soldiers patrolling in the distance.

The case is solved. No wonder Coulson didn't mind Salomon driving to this base; it's just a US military base borrowed by S.H.I.E.L.D., completely unrelated to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top-secret bases. It must have been an emergency mobilization by S.H.I.E.L.D. after discovering the case. Salomon followed Coulson out of the base. The lights of Houston were shining in the night, and the early spring night breeze was still a bit chilly.

"Do you know any good restaurants, Agent Coulson? I mean, the upscale kind."

"Are you planning to find a good place for a date?" Coulson turned and glanced at Salomon. "You're getting on in years. But if I may be so bold, Eton is all men."

"No, it's to apologize." The sorcerer shook his head. "To Agent Romanov."

"I can ask you this time what happened in Salem. My clearance doesn't allow me to know too much." Coulson held the steering wheel with one hand and pointed to his head with the other. "I've actually forgotten some things. If you don't mind, you can tell me some things I know—like what happened between you and Agent Romanov."

"That was a temporary side effect of madness. Don't worry, you've recovered," the sorcerer said. "As for Agent Romanov... she was dead for about 50 seconds, and I was the one who did it."

"What?!" Agent Coulson slammed on the brakes, asking incredulously, "What do you mean 'dead for 50 seconds'? And you killed her? Why?"

"Her heart was pierced." The sorcerer waved his hand. "To determine if she was truly a disguised monster. Don't worry, there are no aftereffects; she's even healthier than before."

"No, I mean, she came back to life?"

“That’s right.” Coulson saw Salomon looking at him with a gaze he couldn’t understand. “I can still save someone who has died from a non-open wound within a minute; you can think of it as first aid. Everyone probably experiences something like this a few times in their life, I guess.”

"Resurrection isn't something you see every day, Salomon." Coulson pressed the accelerator again, driving towards the city. He fell silent, because Salomon's words reminded him of a project he was overseeing called "Project Tahiti."

The purpose of this plan was to promote cell regeneration, allowing Nick Fury's secret Avengers team to be resurrected when they were on the verge of death. However, the problem was that this plan would cause immense suffering to those treated, and without exception, all the resurrected agents suffered from mental instability.

"Is it painful to be brought back to life?" Coulson asked after a long pause, his voice tinged with sadness. He couldn't forget the frenzied state those agents went after being resurrected, and he worried that the Romanov agents might be the same.

"Agent Romanov's wounds had long since healed before she regained consciousness, and there were no scars," Salomon said. "As for pain, I don't think she felt any. But I still killed her, didn't I? Ask her if she has time; I'll treat her to dinner, and hopefully she won't shoot me next time I see her."

"Alright," Coulson sighed. "Every time I see you, you bring me unbelievable news, and every time I'm completely bewildered. Just say it all at once, I don't want to be shocked again. Oh, don't worry, I drive very steadily, I was just having some trouble accepting it before."

"Uh... Captain America has a crush on Peggy Carter's niece?"

So Coulson drove the car, with Salomon in tow, into a ditch by the roadside.

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(End of this chapter)