Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 190 Impersonation (Second Update!)

"A resident called the police, reporting continuous noise from their neighbor's house... and someone was robbed on the street by two armed men..."

The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the sorcerer stood on the outskirts of the city, surveying the sparse lights of the town. In contrast, Salomon sat languidly on his horse, while Nick Fury leaned against a black jeep, constantly flipping through his tablet, trying to find some clues.

"Okay, stop, stop. I didn't let you access the police files to look at these trivial matters." Salomon looked at Nick Fury's wide eyes and said with great disdain, "Isn't armed robbery a normal thing in America? We're here to find this hellish creature, not to maintain order. That's not my business."

"The devil is in the details, Salomon." Nick Fury shook his head. "Sifting through all the clues to find what you want is a required course for any agent. You're still too young. That's why I suggested you go to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. You have to learn a lot, not just sit in a private school playing house."

"Does every agent have to be Sherlock Holmes? I happen to know one Sherlock Holmes, no, three people in two versions," Salomon couldn't help but complain. "You think I'm wasting my time at a prestigious school, but let me tell you, I need this almost unchanging environment to learn magic because it's safe enough. I don't have much time to waste on adventures."

"Sherlock Holmes, Britain's most famous private detective. I didn't know you had a working relationship with him."

"No, I just said it offhand."

"Alright, this is it!" Nick Fury stepped forward and handed the tablet to Salomon, who was riding on horseback. "I assure you, this isn't some hysterical, obese middle-aged woman calling the police out of superstition. This is different. The local police have already reported this case, and we need to resolve it before the FBI arrives. You don't want too many ordinary people dying, do you?"

"I don't mind if necessary." Salomon said, flipping through the files as he uttered words that sent chills down Nick Fury's spine. "Ha, tentacles reaching out from the flames and pulling people into the kitchen fire. That's exactly what a creature from hell would do."

"Is this the devil we're facing?"

“Not all creatures from Hell are demons,” Salomon handed the tablet back, correcting Nick Fury’s common-sense error. “The power of the lower planes affects other extra dimensions, such as the elemental planes and the dream planes. All planes are not incompatible. Take the spirit world, for example. Demons hunt souls there all the time, but you can’t see it in Earth’s spirit world because we’ve cleansed it. Of course, this also leaves many souls with nowhere to go, wandering for a long time before returning to their eternal rest. In other words, those ghost stories you see might actually be real. The Vatican earns 50 billion euros a year in Italy from exorcisms, but those priests aren’t that capable. Most cases are handled by Kamar-Taj, and they don’t even charge a fee.”

"So, our opponent is a dream monster influenced by hellish power?" Nick Fury asked. "Is it difficult to deal with?"

“No.” Salomon activated a scroll with spells that could absorb the damage from the flames; being touched by hellfire was no laughing matter. “It’s not the flames that are difficult to deal with,” he said, “but the avatar of the Lord of Hell is also on Earth right now, and it’s hard for me not to connect the dots.”

"Monther F*uck! How much more are you hiding from me?!" Nick Fury broke out in a cold sweat after hearing Salomon's words. "The King of Hell is on Earth?!"

"What's the point of telling you? You can't solve this anyway." Salomon glanced at the bald head of the S.H.I.E.L.D. director. "Stop talking nonsense and let's get to the crime scene."

----------------

"Welcome, Agent Philip Coulson." The policeman in the long-sleeved jacket looked at the black man in the leather jacket and the boy in the red robe with suspicion. Although he had some doubts, the situation was urgent, and the other party had shown his identification, so he didn't mind cooperating.

"And this is...?"

"Agent John Constantine," Salomon shook the young officer's hand, "Excuse me, I was just at a masquerade ball not long ago. This is an emergency, and these sunglasses are all I have."

"I hope you didn't forget your gun; that guy's not easy to deal with." The policeman gave up on pursuing the matter of his attire. As he turned away, Salomon lowered his head and winked at Nick Fury through the gap in his sunglasses—it was his magic, otherwise even an undercover FBI agent would have to contact the FBI to verify his identity after seeing him like that.

"Didn't you already catch that lunatic?" Nick Fury took over the conversation.

"A madman? No, we don't know if he's the madman or we are." The young police officer led Salomon and Nick Fury to see his superior, explaining the situation as they went, appearing quite friendly. "His roommate went missing, we found a pile of ashes in the kitchen, and then he started going crazy again, saying he dreamt that flames ate his roommate—I don't even know if he's on drugs."

"Damn addict."

"His urine test results aren't back yet, but I think it's pretty much confirmed; he was definitely high," the police officer said. "But what's puzzling is that we did find his roommate's DNA in the kitchen...that's a top priority...guess where we found the DNA? A piece of flesh, with skin on, and tattoos on it. Maybe this lunatic is right, and the flames really did eat his roommate. Now his detention period is almost up, and we have no evidence, so you have one last little bit of time to question him."

After Nick Fury and the sorcerer skillfully used fake documents and "charm" to deal with the local police, they took Salomon to the interrogation room to face the suspect. When Salomon saw him, he knew it was real; Nick Fury's judgment was correct—the man was pale, trembling uncontrollably, and large beads of sweat dripped down his face. Perhaps the police were worried he would die of dehydration, so they had prepared a glass of water for him. When Salomon entered, he saw the empty glass.

Before Nick Fury could even sit across the table and pretend to inquire about the incident, Salomon walked over first. He reached out with his glove, which was gloved and stark white, and grabbed the suspect's yellowish curly hair. Before Nick Fury could stop him, he brought his nose close to the suspect's.

"Sulfur." ​​Salomon released the suspect. "It's him, no doubt about it."

"What do you mean, 'not wrong'?" The suspect's eyes widened in terror. "What do you mean, 'not wrong'? What are you talking about? Where's my lawyer?"

Salomon ignored him and looked at Nick Fury, saying, "We need to make him dream before we can get that thing out of his head."

"Wait, I'm contacting the tech department." Nick Fury looked down at his phone, gesturing for Salomon to sit down at the table with him, pretending to look through files. A moment later, he looked up and showed Salomon his phone—the surveillance cameras in the interrogation room had been taken over, and S.H.I.E.L.D. technicians were replacing the original footage with a looping video.

"You can do whatever you want now."

"What are you doing?" the suspect cried out in terror, but before he could make any further move, he saw a rose petal fall from Salomon's hand. Then, he knew nothing more.

Sorry, sorry, I fell asleep right after get off work, I was so tired.

(End of this chapter)