Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1730 The Interrogation of a Spy

Natasha straddled Salomon's stomach, brandishing an open tactical folding knife in front of him as if to cut open his skin. It looked like a bloody interrogation scene, provided both Natasha and Salomon were clothed. "The interrogation begins now, boy," the red-haired spy said with a satisfied smile, her slightly hoarse voice deliberately slowing down. "You were a bit too rough. Now it's time for my revenge. Don't move, or I don't know what I might do. If you can honestly tell the truth, I might give you a small reward... Dinah, thank you, I need a chilled orange juice."

"There's a dry sheet," Salomon added. "You've dirtied the sheet."

Natasha Romanov squirmed in dissatisfaction, looking at Salomon as if she were some mischievous high school student, but she was quickly subdued as Salomon grabbed her waist and pressed her back onto his abs.

Diana placed the two glasses of orange juice from the tray on the bedside table.

She glanced indifferently at the small folding knife in Natasha's hand, and after confirming that it posed no danger to its owner, she backed away from the bedroom without a word, not even sparing Natasha a glance. "Is she a little unhappy with me?" Natasha watched her leave, then turned back to look down at Salomon. "Did I disturb her rest last night?"

"After you passed out, it was Diana who dried you off; that was the third time she entered the bedroom last night."

"The third time, how come I didn't know she went into the bedroom?"

"Back then you were a raging lioness, scratching and clawing." Salomon felt the blade pressed against his chest. "What do you want to ask? I can reveal some not-so-confidential information."

"First of all, it's a benchmark issue; don't try to fool me on this simple question."

Natasha felt his large, rough hands encircle her slender waist, his warm body seeping into her skin, making her heart race faster and faster. The previous night's pleasure left her aching all over, but she knew she couldn't resist the temptation again. If she didn't take advantage of this while her mind was clear, she would have to wait until she was truly exhausted tonight to get the answers she needed. Natasha wasn't even sure if she would remember the questions she had considered before entering the villa then; she only felt her legs go weak… She was already regretting enduring Salomon's lashes alone; she should have called Dinah or Wanda along.

"Your age is the first question."

Natasha's voice trembled slightly as she felt Salomon's hand stroking upwards. "You revealed to Nick Fury that you were conducting experiments related to time. There is concrete intelligence indicating that the Immortal City and Skysword Space Station organized a solar system rescue operation, targeting entities connected to a branch of Project Pegasus. The rescue team has returned from the edge of the solar system, but you and your Royal Guard have not appeared in public. There is reason to suspect that you did not return with the rescue team..."

"So Nick Fury deduced that I time-traveled?"

"The most important evidence is that old photograph of the Connor family. You're wearing jeans and have a mustache; that won't fool S.H.I.E.L.D.'s facial recognition system. You returned to Earth, but not with the Helicarriers and your android army; you appeared over a hundred years ago. Isn't that enough to prove anything?" Natasha Romanoff forcefully slapped away the hand that was climbing up to her. "To receive the reward, you must answer the questions, Salomon."

"About eight thousand years old. I'd have to ask Diana for the exact number, I'm too lazy to remember it."

Natasha Romanov gasped. She had imagined the answer would be no more than three digits, but the truth was this man had lived for over four digits, meaning he had witnessed the origins of human civilization. "Then why did our world have... for example, World War I and World War II?"

"This is not a question you should be asking, Natasha."

"I'm not that stupid to imagine you killing the young Führer," Natasha said with a smile. "I think there must be some reasons beyond what normal people can imagine that prevent you from doing something that changes the established history."

"I want to return to this world and ensure that nothing has changed before the time jump. This means maintaining what has already happened, pushing forward what should have happened but didn't, and taking on important roles in history. Fate is a veil between the material universe and the infinite, maintaining the stability of the material universe through choices. Every choice leads to countless possibilities, and every possibility leads to countless choices. Even if you look through the veil, you can't see the consequences of every possibility. No one can be sure whether doing a good deed will lead to a worse outcome."

Salomon patted her bottom. "The world is already in the best-case scenario. It has infinite possibilities instead of falling into utter decay. Plus, the world I live in belongs to this timeline, so I must maintain it. More importantly, this timeline gives me many opportunities to conduct social experiments, accumulate experience, hone skills, summarize lessons learned, and find a social system that can adapt to future humanity."

"You can tell me about that history; you know, I'm very interested in those things."

“No, you don’t want to. This is a task Nick Fury gave you,” Salomon said. “Tell me what you’re really interested in, Natasha.”

"You haven't appeared in public for over two months. Do you know how the CIA came to that conclusion?" Natasha Romanoff said with interest. "They're planning a propaganda campaign, buying off the media, claiming you're a hologram and robot created by Viktor von Dum."

"They intend to persuade NATO allies to attack Yugoslavia, or to instigate a rebellion in Romania," Salomon casually speculated. Seeing Natasha's slightly surprised expression, he explained, "For Europe and North America, the title of 'Emperor' carries far more power than a nuclear bomb. Many of the trade agreements Yugoslavia has reached are predicated on the Emperor not appearing on their borders without reason. The CIA and the White House, hoping NATO allies will attack Yugoslavia, must diminish the fear associated with the image of the 'Emperor,' at least deceiving the ignorant working class into having the courage to go to the front lines and point their guns at the gleaming golden giant. This is what the European NATO allies want—predictably, the next step will be to vilify and slander the Emperor, a traditional Christian propaganda tactic. Soon we'll see comical cartoons of the Emperor published in traditional media."

Natasha pursed her lips. "You definitely wouldn't have thought of these things before the time jump."

"According to my identification, I'm only 21 years old," Salomon said. "By the way, the cartoonist is credited as Klingberg, which sounds like a Jew. The next ten satirical cartoons are kept in the first bookcase on the left in my study. These are all the cartoons I painstakingly completed. The Washington Post offered me over four thousand dollars for one issue per week."

"Why do you draw your own satirical cartoons?" Natasha asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

"What does a comic satirizing 'The Emperor' have to do with the Avengers' 'King Arthur'? Don't forget, I'm still the most mysterious 'King Arthur' in the Avengers. Apart from the Avengers members, not many people in the world know about the relationship between King Arthur and the Emperor." Salomon sat up and hugged Natasha. "I'm waiting for NATO to launch the first attack. Only then will I have an excuse to retaliate and annex land. Before the impending crisis, I must solve Earth's internal problems."

The small folding knife fell to the ground.

Natasha Romanov trembled, clinging tightly to Salomon's neck, completely forgetting that she had only asked a trivial question. In the evening, she had enjoyed a relaxing sauna, then lay wrapped in a towel on a soft lounge chair by the steaming pool, as languid as a sleeping fox. Upon waking, a more awakened Natasha realized that Salomon's answer was far too shocking. Her attempt to gradually uncover the truth had failed from the start. The Salomon who had lived for eight thousand years was completely different from the Salomon who had lived for twenty-one years; her initial thoughts had been seen through from the very beginning.

Although she spent most of her time enjoying lovemaking, Natasha Romanoff still managed to complete the psychological profile. She could sense that Salomon must have experienced something extraordinary, and the worldview of the disguised civilized world of the 21st century seemed out of place for him—Salomon had only lived in the 21st century for twenty years, and then lived from Earth in 6000 BC to the present day. The impact of those twenty years in the 21st century on his worldview was definitely not as great as the more than eight thousand years that followed—although she believed that the twenty-one-year-old Salomon and the eight-thousand-year-old Salomon were the same person, the avenger "King Arthur" she knew, but the eight-thousand-year-old Salomon's views would be more direct.

This is practically a real-life version of "The Man from Earth".

Salomon had already conceived of this idea before the time jump, but Tony Stark and Steve Rogers strongly opposed it. They both felt that Salomon's idea was too cruel, since not everyone could accept the bloody reality. Even Steve Rogers, who had participated in World War II, found it hard to accept.

Now, from a higher temporal perspective, Salomon's views on the relationships between nations in the 21st century are only more brutal and primitive. A simple example: pre-World War II European states occupied land and established regimes through military colonization; post-World War II capitalist states used economic means to colonize and establish regimes—a more sophisticated form of exploitation. But Salomon is able to strip away the superficiality of politics floating on the surface of humanity, pointing directly to the fundamental rules of violence.

He rejected protests and demonstrations, refused negotiations, and disdained any grand pretense. He would conquer with sword and gun, erase the enemy's writings and history with fire, sow salt on the rebels' lands, and force the conquered to accept his civilization. Compared to veiled human rights conventions, he was the one who truly treated different human groups equally—he enforced everyone equally, just as the Roman Empire before Christ forced conquered lands to implement Roman laws and accept Roman rule—a cruel yet pragmatic philosophy of survival that directly addresses the essence of civilization. True peace comes from war, true integration from the sword; this is a painful reality that modern humanity cannot truly accept.

Natasha knew that although modern humans prided themselves on having civilization, in Salomon's eyes, modern humans were no different from those of eight thousand years ago. Civilization was merely a disguise. From the moment human ancestors lit the first campfire, the keynote of this world had always been killing and reproduction. Only true unification could quell the endless infighting among humans. If the crisis Salomon spoke of was real, then a fragmented Earth would absolutely be no match for a fleet from outer space. She didn't show the obvious aversion that Tony Stark or Steve Rogers did, because this ideology was the result of an assessment of Salomon by the psychology experts assembled by Nick Fury. Apart from Nick Fury and Salomon himself, she understood this idea earlier than anyone else.

A maid carrying a tray appeared in front of Natasha at just the right moment.

"Where is your master, Dina?" Natasha looked up and asked the maid. She didn't really consider Dina a servant, because this homunculus knew Salomon better than she did. Pointing to the plates, she said, "It's dinner time now. He said he would dine with me. Where is he?"

"You don't have permission," Diana replied coldly.

A flawless version after careful inspection!

"What privileges do I have?" Natasha tilted her head, her red hair cascading over her wet shoulders. It was June, and the average evening temperature in Texas was only 21 degrees Celsius. Combined with the warmth emanating from the steaming pool, Natasha, wrapped in a towel, felt exceptionally comfortable. "Free access to the sauna and spa?"

"You can ask questions," Diana said, holding her tray without moving.

"Can you answer honestly?" Natasha smiled slyly.

Diana might be a better starting point; at least the cold-blooded maid wouldn't stoop to lying.

"You can get the answers you're looking for."

Natasha stroked her lower abdomen beneath the towel. Salomon had made this promise to her years ago, not through any scientific means, but simply with a snap of her fingers and a blink of an eye, her injured body was healed. It was a miracle; Natasha even felt younger, and the bones that had been broken and restored no longer ached.

Now she can feel the seed inside her taking root and sprouting.

"Can I have his child?"

"Powerful genes are hard to combine, and talents will only annihilate each other," Diana said. "You are mortal, and your genes may be able to combine with your master's genes."

"You mean, I'll have his child, and that child will inherit his talent?"

"I didn't say that." Diana put down her plate, and Natasha felt as if Diana was scrutinizing her with a critical eye, like a butcher examining a piece of meat waiting to be slaughtered. "My master had mortal offspring, but they didn't show any special talents."

"He had children? That makes sense, considering he lived such a long time. Could you tell me what his children's names were?"

Diana hesitated for a moment, unsure whether she should reveal this information.

"Some children survived, some died, but they were all forgotten. What is certain is that they did not inherit any obvious talents. I cannot tell you everything, Natasha, but you should have a child to inherit this family. All the assets of this family are prepared for you, including a family that will serve you for generations."

"A name, Diana, that's my request. I won't tell anyone, that's my promise."

"Telemarcos, if you want a name, this is the only name I can give you."