Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1669

The three sky carriers are named HMS Retribution, HMS Cross Rose, and HMS Golden Lily. HMS Retribution is often used by the Guardians for missions, while the other two, judging from their names, reveal the Emperor's favoritism towards the Sisters of the Cult. The three sky carriers only operate together under specific circumstances; otherwise, they maintain a routine of one on duty, one undergoing maintenance, and one being repaired. The sky carrier that has set sail this time is the Guardians' HMS Retribution, and its battle group also includes several small guided-missile destroyers produced at the Mars Dockyard.

The term "small" is relative to Earth's ocean-going ships. After modifications, the size of the space carrier far exceeds that of the Ford-class aircraft carriers on Earth; in comparison, the size of the missile destroyers and other ships forming the battle group can only be described as small. In future space fleet planning, the space carrier, less than one kilometer long and unable to conduct hyperspace travel, will have only one role: to conduct space combat between the Earth and the Moon, and to launch unstoppable strikes against planetary targets within the solar system.

Currently, the HMS Cross Rose is on a voyage from Europe to the Middle East. The guided-missile destroyers and cruisers carried by this battle group are crucial to Regent Viktor von Dum's nuclear deterrence efforts. Countries with orbital detection capabilities will recognize the airborne carrier and its battle group. The Regent believes this is the only force capable of protecting Yugoslavia from attack after the Emperor's departure from Earth. A recent exercise also demonstrated that the bombers carried by the orbiting airborne carrier, specifically designed for space warfare, are fully capable of carrying out planetary-level strikes, completely undetectable and uninterceptable by Earth-based military technology.

Regent Victor von Doom's only concern was that the nation's current military production capacity was overly reliant on Mars, and the Sky Sword space station's efficiency as a logistics hub was far too low, inferior to the future space elevator. But what could be done? All production lines had to be rebuilt, all high-tech research institutes had to be constructed brick by brick, and even students had to be educated slowly. Those Martian fanatics who had mechanized themselves didn't have the patience to teach non-Martian apprentices. Even the Emperor was powerless against this academic clique, since most of the Martian foundry's tech fanatics were unaware that Mars had been chosen as the foundry solely because of a hidden secret, and the Emperor needed a powerful military and the most loyal servants to guard this secret.

The Sisterhood's commander and main strike force have already embarked on their journey with the Sky Carrier Retribution—which, propelled by its sublight-speed engines, has now reached the vicinity of Jupiter's rings. The artificial gravity field, previously shut down to conserve energy, has been reactivated, and the mortal crew members, unable to adapt to sublight speeds, have awakened from their sleep pods and begun preparations. The Cross Rose, having completed its maintenance and resupply, will proceed according to plan, departing from the Sky Sword Space Station with a sufficient number of personnel, to conduct its mission in low Earth orbit alongside a void battle group composed of small missile destroyers and small missile cruisers. This voyage will initially follow an equatorial orbit, reaching southern Europe and the Middle East, passing through the Suez Canal, the Mediterranean Sea, and the Strait of Gibraltar, before finally changing course to circle over the Atlantic Ocean and arrive above the research station at the North Pole.

The HMS Cross Rose is not on combat duty this time. Its primary mission after leaving its post is to establish contact with the multinational research station at the North Pole and escort a research icebreaker belonging to the Yugoslav Federation to the mission area. Therefore, the deterrence mission of the air carrier battle group is equally important. This 14-day patrol will allow scholars from other countries to witness this air carrier battle group rescuing the research icebreaker when the ship reaches the North Pole.

In short, the plan is to melt the ice layer by using a low-orbit precision particle beam to retrieve the icebreaker trapped in the glacier (the only certainty is that life on the research vessel is very pleasant, not at all as harsh as the propaganda portrays it), and then dispatch a shuttle to transfer the trapped and injured crew members to the SkySword space station and deliver supplies to the icebreaker.

This was a political mission, and the reasons for the Sky Carrier Battle Group's departure were quite compelling. Anyone familiar with the Emperor's administrative system could sense the Regent's intentions in this mission. Those even more familiar with Regent Victor von Doom would suspect that this voyage was merely bait or a smokescreen to conceal what he didn't want others to know or to lure certain forces into making wrong judgments. Some nations cooperated with the Federation established by the Emperor, but competition existed in other areas as well. For example, Regent Victor von Doom insisted on building a Black Sea Fleet to prepare for future wars, but not everyone wanted to see an invincible carrier battle group appear within their sphere of influence. This fleet would inevitably cross the Gibraltar tsunami or enter the Red Sea, impacting local fuel production and efficiency, thereby reducing fuel availability from other sources.

This means a significant reduction in the profits and political influence of energy trade.

As he returned to his Oxfordshire estate from the sunny island of South America, the renowned BBC news channel was broadcasting the story. This was the world's first opportunity to observe, learn about, and gain even a glimpse of a virtual carrier battle group "up close." Many experts and scholars were invited to interview him, speculating and discussing the actual military effectiveness of the virtual carrier battle group based on available information, and whether this epoch-making weapon would impact the international situation. This wasn't a difficult task; everyone knew that emperors were not to be trifled with, nor were powers capable of establishing factories on Mars. However, the scholars couldn't say that. As long as they were certain their skulls wouldn't be shattered by a Yugoslavian-made 9mm bullet the next morning, they didn't mind speaking according to their predetermined political stance, ignoring objective facts.

If this isn't done, that 9mm pistol cartridge might have to be replaced with one produced by a NATO country.

He stood in front of the television in the living room, amused by the scholar's tone. The scholars interviewed by the media were all leaders in their respective fields, their knowledge sufficient to answer any questions, many of whom he had previously consulted (for a consultation fee). Clearly, someone had paid these scholars even more for their services, and these scholars hadn't even figured out how an aircraft carrier battle group re-enters the atmosphere.

"Should we unsubscribe from the comedy channel?" Bayonetta was grooming the Cheshire Cat with a comb. Enamel-painted, gold-threaded, and jewel-encrusted pistols lay on the table awaiting maintenance. Even Milia had a gun maintenance kit, though she could only handle simple plot points for now. "I don't understand why you can laugh while watching the news."

"This is because you've been sleeping in a coffin for five hundred years and missed out on a lot of scientific progress."

"I know what the Star Wars program is, darling. Next time you're that mean, I'll beat you up with a 9mm or larger caliber." The black-haired witch turned to look at Laura Crawford, who was instructing Milia on how to clean firearms. The latter had protested more than once, believing that letting such a young child handle firearms was extremely irresponsible, but thankfully Jeanne had persuaded her and shown her the firearms storage equipment here. Even with a fuss gun, Milia couldn't open the enchanted steel plates on the outer layers of the firearms and ammunition storage cabinets. Firearms were among the safest items in this manor.

"Thank you so much for your help, Laura. Without you, I definitely wouldn't have been able to sleep because of this little sparrow."

Milia yawned listlessly. Compared to firing a gun at the shooting range, girls her age had absolutely no interest in the tedious subject of firearms maintenance, even though the instructor was Laura Crawford, who was highly skilled in using live-fire small arms. Under Jeanne's arrangement, Milia would also receive wilderness survival training in the future, again taught by Laura Crawford herself. Finding a tutor from a noble family with good manners and knowledge was difficult—especially given the almost nonexistent normal family atmosphere in this household. Even the Shadow Witch's single-parent family wasn't as strange; after all, there wasn't a man there who acted like a child. Jeanne suspected that such misguided guidance would turn Milia into a girl who loved pranks—even though the courses Laura Crawford could teach didn't fit Jeanne's definition of a witch. However, under Salomon's insistence, Jeanne had no choice but to agree to let Milia learn less "ladylike" courses such as wilderness survival and rock climbing adventures.

"Is this your parting gift to me, Ceresia?" he said, picking up the cat hair dumplings on the table. "Shouldn't you have made me a portable, easy-to-preserve meal?"

"There's bread Joan of Arc baked in the oven, a French tradition, something she prepared especially for you." Bayonetta picked up a cat hair from the comb and patted the Cheshire Cat's rear end. "The portal's still open; I'm going to enjoy a South American sunbathing session with Joan of Arc. Don't forget to clean my gun, dear Laura. I suggest we continue our sunbathing session instead of spending time with this man who's about to abandon his family and run off to the outer reaches of the solar system."

"Mommy!"

"Dear Milia, I think you'll like the pool there."

"I agree." Tony Stark rubbed his head and repeated, "I agree."

“We don’t have much time, you need to consider this quickly… You mean, you agree to form this alliance?” Nick Fury raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised by Tony Stark’s answer. He was confident he could persuade Tony Stark to join his plans, but he hadn’t expected the latter to agree so quickly. He glanced discreetly at Bruce Banner sitting beside him, wondering if Tony Stark’s thoughts were related to this man. “Although we don’t have much time, I need to know the reasons.”

"He threatened my family." Tony Stark opened his eyes. The concussion was still churning him, and the sharp pain in his arm only added to his agitation. "His soldiers showed up right at my doorstep and told me they had killed all the agents protecting me. He just showed up on another country's soil like that, killed agents, and threatened me, using Pepper and my future child as leverage."

Nick Fury quickly sorted out some relationships.

"What does he want you to do at the Houston command center?"

"He wanted me to prevent the Houston command center from contacting the Rivals spacecraft."

"That's all?" Nick Fury narrowed his one eye, a hint of uncertainty on his face. "What else did he do?"

"As far as I know, there was also voiceprint hacking," Tony Stark said. "If you saw the device I brought in, you'd know what they did. I just hope my device wasn't taken away as evidence."

“I will get that device.” Nick Fury glanced out the window. “I’ll take Dr. Banner out of Houston first. As for your AI Friday… I’ll contact it, as long as you can ensure its loyalty.”

"What are you going to do?" Bruce Banner asked in a low voice, careful not to disturb the nurses making their rounds in the hallway. Although his identity was flawless, he still felt guilty, while Nick Fury, walking in front of him, seemed quite natural. "You said you wouldn't hide anything from me."

"The Lovers spaceship is heading to the edge of the solar system for a classified mission." Nick Fury's tone was as hurried as his footsteps. "Many years ago, I was involved in a project between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the U.S. military... Project Pegasus, you might have heard of that name... At that time, we were exploring the secrets of hyperspace travel, and the research subject was the Tesseract. Project Pegasus built a prototype hyperspace engine, and the military assembled a somewhat rudimentary spaceship to conduct a test flight of the hyperspace engine."

"You mean, he wants the hyperspace engine?"

“No, I don’t know.” Nick Fury pushed open the back door of the hospital, took off the caregiver’s clothes, and threw them into the trash can. He went straight to the parking lot, took his own clothes from the trunk of the stolen car, and changed. They didn’t get into the car until Bruce Banner had also changed. “He never does anything pointless. Remember the abilities he showed at the UN headquarters? That teleportation ability… I suspect he’s mastered the technology and principles of hyperspace engines.”

"Technological monopoly, I suspect he doesn't want other countries to have this technology." Feeling the roar of the engine, Bruce Banner quickly fastened his seatbelt. "Where are we going next?"

"You're a physicist, Dr. Banner." Nick Fury slammed on the gas, and the car sped out of the parking lot without even paying the parking fee. Bruce Banner quickly rolled down the window, loudly apologizing as he tossed a banknote at him. "I'm going to take you to see part of Project Pegasus; we'll make our predictions then."

"What speculation?"

"The answer I've always wanted to find is what he really wants."

(End of this chapter)