Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1738 is about to begin

Salomon arrived in Europe earlier than the witches had anticipated.

The Gulfstream G550 took off from Amirka-Gabriel International Airport at Cape Verde and took a long six-hour flight to Zurich Airport in Switzerland. He didn't stay in Zurich for long; after unloading the cargo at the safe house, he boarded the plane again.

Yelena Belova was extremely unhappy about being left in Zurich, but Natasha and Salomon pretended not to notice her glares, only instructing her to guard the weapons and equipment unloaded from the plane, as well as the various documents needed for disguise and infiltration. Natasha claimed that the vacation wasn't over yet, and although she assured Yelena in a coaxing tone that she would be back soon, Yelena became even more agitated.

To safeguard these supplies and important documents, Yelena couldn't stray too far from the safe house. She couldn't risk intelligence leaks by calling for delivery services to enjoy a hot pizza, so her lunch and dinner consisted only of US Army MRE field rations, with dry Mexican pepper beef burritos as her staple food.

Yelena had some expectations regarding the food during the operation, but no one told her until the moment she opened the box that the French rations she had hoped for had all been replaced with Latino MREs. Given the informal exchange ratio between European armies, the ratio of US MREs to French field rations was 5 to 1, one can imagine the difference between the two.

However, Natasha had no time to worry about Yelena's dinner, because there was an even more important cargo on the plane.

It was a long, narrow wooden box bound with chains and parchment, just long enough to fit an unfolded fishing rod. All the androids, including Dinah, carefully secured the box to the warehouse rack as if it were a giant piece of glass art, and even placed many composite cushioning foams to reduce the impact of bumps on the cargo. Even Black Widow, who lacked special abilities, could feel the burning sensation emanating from the contents of the box on a spiritual level.

Without those seemingly ordinary chains and parchment, she had no doubt that removing the contents of the box would have burned the plane instantly. To reassure her, Salomon declared that the contents of the box were perfectly safe. They were able to eat fresh tuna at Cape Vede thanks to this thing; as for whether it was used as a fishing rod or a harpoon, he refused to tell anyone.

Natasha couldn't help but laugh when she thought about it; she had seen the tuna that had suffered a fatal penetrating wound.

The car carrying dangerous goods slowly drove away from Oslo-Gallem Airport, onto the E16 highway, and onto the E6 highway. After 28 minutes, it arrived in downtown Oslo. Instead of driving into the city, she drove along Highway 150, which curves along the fjord to the north, and arrived at Holmenkollen in the Vestre Aker district.

Because Oslo's daylight hours are shortening (with some days offering only 11 hours of sunshine), the sky was already dark when they arrived at the airport. Only the meager rays of the sun lingered on the roads, casting a faint, lifeless crimson and deep blue glow, like large stains stuck to the concrete. The transition from tropical vibrancy to gloomy dampness took only eight hours, and the nights could drop below freezing. Natasha had to wear a black shawl to shield herself from the cold wind.

Dina had booked several suites at the Lysebu Hotel in advance, where a small squad of Sorority androids would be staying for the next while. Salomon didn't immediately set off for their destination; he and Natasha spent the night in the suite, as Natasha loved the room with its fireplace and minibar, and enjoyed gazing out at the mountains lightly covered in snow.

The next morning, Natasha was awakened by the aroma of coffee.

She sat up sleepily in bed, a gentle breeze drifting in through the open window, carrying with it a pleasant scent. She stretched, letting the blanket slip off, revealing her perfect waistline and full breasts to the cool sunlight. Salomon entered the bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed, and kissed her neck. "Dina's made breakfast," he said, casually pulling the drowsy redhead into his arms. "She's in charge of our tour today, so don't upset her."

The Black Widow in his arms responded with a few soft moans, her eyes closed, as Salomon pulled her off the bed. She leaned weakly against him. Only when she felt the fingers behind her getting restless did the Black Widow snap out of her daze, angrily opening her eyes, resting her chin on Salomon's chest, and glaring at the culprit.

"I'm so tired! You didn't let me sleep until dawn!" Natasha couldn't help but complain. "I'm sleep-deprived, darling. You're like a wild horse, in every way!"

"Then I'd like to ask, who used joint locks to force me to stay here last night?" Salomon lowered his head and kissed her lips. "I suspect you're trying to delay my work."

Faced with the blame, Natasha clung to his neck like an octopus seizing its prey. After a while, nearly breathless, she finally released her hold, only to have Salomon grab her waist instead. "Looks like Yelena's going to stay in Zurich for another week," Salomon winked playfully. "I'm worried about her."

"I remember you prepared a lot of MREs; she won't starve."

"That's a cruel thing to say, you must never let her hear it."

Salomon pinched Black Widow's firm, full buttocks, large enough to hold a wine glass. "Dina, come in quickly," he reminded her. Black Widow wriggled a few times, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. Dina, who had finished preparing breakfast in the hotel kitchen, opened the bedroom door and walked in with a tray. Ignoring the scene before her, she placed the breakfast on the table without a second thought. Natasha simply made way for Dina.

"That might be faster," she licked her lips. "We should be able to visit the cathedral in time, right?"

Natasha overestimated her endurance; she wasn't a cyborg like Dinah, possessing superhuman strength. She lazily woke up in the afternoon, missing the best time to visit the sights, but the restaurant Dinah had booked made up for it; the tipsy feeling and delicious food made for a wonderful evening.

The three-day vacation passed quickly. The cold air sweeping through the streets seemed to have taken away Black Widow's lust as well. After releasing that feeling of parting with her life, Salomon finally took her to their destination. It wasn't the secret facility they had expected, but a villa area only a few kilometers from the hotel. Natasha noticed that Dina had also brought that important cargo. The accompanying android team was in another vehicle, armed and responsible for the transport.

"You're returning to Zurich tomorrow afternoon, and I'll have Diana take you back. We've agreed that you can't get involved in what happens next."

“But I need to know what you’re trying to do,” Natasha said. She hadn’t boarded the plane out of curiosity; she just wanted to know just how dangerous Salomon’s mission really was. Her career as a secret agent known as Black Widow was coming to an end, and the peaceful life she’d always dreamed of was within reach, but a family member was venturing into unfathomable depths.

Natasha was excessively stubborn on this matter, forcing Salomon to make concessions.

As for stopping Salomon from doing dangerous things, Natasha never even considered it.

She knew Salomon had his reasons for doing this, and as a family member, she would never oppose his decision. The passion hidden beneath the Slavic woman's cold exterior, suppressed for years by espionage rules, erupted like a rose in flames. Salomon knew he couldn't change Natasha's mind; this woman was like a piece of red-hot steel, resilient yet burning hot. Out of respect for her, Salomon didn't mind letting Natasha experience some less dangerous aspects.

Salomon took her hand and gently massaged her stiff fingers. "I need to see someone before we begin the mission. The biggest challenge we'll face today is nothing more than a hard-to-swallow dinner."

Casillas was already waiting at the door. Seeing Salomon get out of the car, he immediately went up and gave Salomon a big hug. Compared to the cramped apartment a year ago, he now lived in a mansion in Holmenkollen, paid for by Kamar-Taj—a reward his work deserved.

"Good boy." Casillas laughed and patted Salomon on the back, his gaze shifting to Natasha, whose intimate posture with Salomon made him hesitate. Salomon's relationship with the witches wasn't a secret, but Casillas knew that neither of the witches had red hair. Now, Casillas was somewhat exasperated by the women coming and going around Salomon; he couldn't possibly remember every woman's name.

However, the fact that Salomon brought her here shows that she is important.

"Natasha Romanoff." The former Black Widow smiled politely, and with her dress and knitted shawl, she looked more like a lady visiting a high-class guest than a blood-stained agent.

Casillas looked at her in surprise, then shook her hand. He was curious why Black Widow had come along, but now wasn't the time to ask. "He definitely told me who I am," Casillas said, patting Salomon on the shoulder. "I watched Salomon grow up. I used to worry about whether he'd find a girlfriend in his teens, but it seems he's been lucky enough."

"Thank you." Natasha nodded politely, secretly relieved. She felt the situation wasn't so difficult to handle. "I'm very interested in his childhood."

"He's much more mischievous than you think. Come in, Sheila is preparing dinner, we can talk about these things at the table."

Salomon saw the blonde woman again.

He didn't remember the woman's name at all, or even if she was the same one who had been with Casillas last time. For Casillas, it was only a short year, but for Salomon, it was eight thousand years. He wouldn't remember things or people that weren't important. So he simply greeted her politely and followed Casillas to the cigar room, while secretly expressing his condolences to Natasha, who was about to deal with the hostess, about tonight's dinner.

Salomon never thought that Scandinavians had a talent for cooking.

Even at Noma, a trendy restaurant known for its "New Nordic" cuisine, the best seafood dish on the winter menu is nothing more than French fish soup. Salomon, after one visit to that Copenhagen restaurant, described it as "not even as good as a small bistro with a dozen tables in Marseille, France." Aside from showing off culinary technology, telling stories, complicating the presentation of dishes, and accepting marketing from food magazines, it has absolutely nothing to do with delicious food.

This led Salomon to a pessimistic view of Scandinavian food, as if all that existed were stinky pickled puffins and herring so salty they could be mummified. So he felt a pang of guilt when gifting the mansion to Casillas, because the latter would actually be living there, and the torment he endured on his tongue seemed far more arduous than the task of monitoring the Allfather.

Salomon took two Cohiba cigars from the cabinet, cut them, and handed one to Casillas.

He sat on the main sofa, smoking a cigar for several minutes without speaking. Salomon hadn't been here since the Sorcerer Supreme's death. Kaecilius knew some of the inside story, such as the Sorcerer Supreme's death being caused by the uncontrolled flow of extradimensional forces, leading to the alienation of Kamar-Taj and its surrounding areas. Kaecilius wasn't entirely supportive of Baron Mordo's ideas, because he knew that even if all the arcane sorcerers of Kamar-Taj supported Baron Mordo's "purist" ideology, they combined couldn't possibly oppose Salomon.

"Your mission is complete, Kaecilius." Salomon produced his gift: a bottle of sherry to accompany his cigars. He poured a glass for Kaecilius and himself, then tapped his fingers on the armrest of the sofa, and two perfectly spherical ice cubes fell into the glasses. Kaecilius, seeing this magic for the first time, instinctively raised an eyebrow. "You can continue to live here. This villa is truly yours now. You can return to Kamar-Taj anytime, and you'll always have a room here."

"Where is she?"

“You know the rules,” Salomon nodded, offering no further explanation. “I need you to help me transport the goods to the Faroe Islands. All the protective measures are meaningless in front of the weapon's owner, but I need you to make a gesture and tell him to maintain decorum and honor. Your main job is still to ensure there's no one else on that deserted island; I don't want any innocent people to die.”

"You don't have to do that, Salomon."

"I will not refuse Odin's invitation; it is the responsibility of the Lord of Mankind. This is a duel between kings, a fight to the death to decide the future of two races," Salomon said. "But in my opinion, although both sides share the same genetic origins, the Asgardians' genes are the result of psionic interference by the Aesir. In comparison, humanity has greater potential, and the Asgardian experiment has failed."

"Let's not talk about this anymore, anyway, I can't get involved." Casillas shook his head. "Tell me about Black Widow, how did she end up with you?"

Salomon made a helpless expression, which made Casillas laugh.

"This is a long story, perhaps something to talk about at the dinner table. Trust me, your partner will definitely bring it up. I'm not very good at dealing with enthusiastic people."

Social skills are an essential skill for Black Widow, and thanks to Natasha's presence, the atmosphere at the table didn't become awkward. For some reason, Casillas didn't reveal that Natasha was Black Widow, thus avoiding any awkward situations. When Sheila asked questions like, "When did you two meet?", Natasha cleverly glossed over certain details, identifying herself as a freelance journalist, which she could use to explain her stories with Salomon around the world.

Salomon, who was pouring vodka into his mouth next to the table, was of no help whatsoever. He was not interested in the conversation at the table at all, but was instead very interested in the steaks covered with various lettuce, because it was the food on the table that came closest to the concept of "delicious".

The fairly pleasant dinner ended, and as Natasha smiled and said goodbye to the hostess, she noticed the shipment being taken to the villa's garage. She didn't say much, simply pulling her knitted cloak over her shoulder and getting into the car. Salomon exchanged a few words with Casillas before also getting into the car. He was confident that Sheila would have many questions for him tonight; if she knew anything about luxury goods, she would ask about Salomon's true identity; if she knew anything about weapons, she would notice the outline of a pistol beneath Diana's suit jacket, who was acting as the driver.

The answers to these questions depend entirely on Kaecilius and whether he decides to accept a normal life after this mission. If he chooses a normal life and intends to say goodbye to dangerous magic and the safety of the world, then Salomon will agree to his decision on behalf of Kamar-Taj and respect his personal wishes.

"You didn't tell me anything, Salomon. All I know is that you decided to set sail for the Faroe Islands this weekend." Natasha seemed a little angry. "Is your job simply to deliver goods to the Faroe Islands?"

“Darling, don’t you think using interrogation techniques here is a bit redundant?” Salomon blinked helplessly. He watched Natasha’s emotions shift from anger to calm in an instant, which made him marvel at Black Widow’s acting skills. “I’ll tell you what that shipment is, the one you want to know—it’s Gungnir, the weapon of the Allfathers, a branch of the World Tree. In human terms, it’s part of some kind of massive information/energy transfer medium—I want Gungnir returned to its owner, because its owner is about to participate in a duel. Coincidentally, its owner lives in the Faroe Islands.”

"You mean, Thor's father..." Natasha swallowed.

Nick Fury once craved information about Asgard, but Thor couldn't remember that long history at all. A life of just over a thousand years was far too short for Asgard's history. However, based on the few words Thor revealed on Earth, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s experts pieced together some information about Asgard's society, and most importantly, information about the Allfather.

According to S.H.I.E.L.D. experts, the Allfather is an individual who has lived for tens of thousands of years and possesses immense power. If such an individual were to invade Earth, S.H.I.E.L.D. would be utterly powerless against him. Asgard under such a ruler would naturally be incredibly advanced and powerful. Even when Congress issued arrest warrants for the Avengers, they selectively ignored the fact that Thor was an Avenger. After all, in Thor's account, Loki, the mastermind behind the Battle of New York, nearly used Asgardian weapons to slice the Frost Giants' planet in two.

"But Thor said that the Allfather is still on the throne."

"That was just an illusion," Salomon said. "As for the duel... I was the other participant. The dying lion was trying to make a decision in his final moments, but I disagreed. Now neither of us can convince the other, so we can only preserve our honor through a duel."