Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 237 The Alcohol-Poisoned Knight (First Update)

Bayonetta and Joan of Arc's help was settled. Salomon only needed to report this to the Sorcerer Supreme, who would vouch for it. He believed the Sorcerer Supreme wouldn't refuse such a request. Although witches' enemies were generally beings from higher planes, Lady Butterfly and Lady Styx, being demons themselves, had no objection to fighting demons, especially since this matter involved Mephisto. As long as they could thoroughly humiliate that old devil, no demon would object.

After they had eaten and drunk their fill, the witches and Salomon squeezed onto the sofa as usual, except this time Bayonetta sat in the middle. The witches used magic to cover their private conversation, so Salomon couldn't hear anything. He could only hold Bayonetta's soft feet, covered by black stockings, and idly caress them until the witch kicked him hard in the arm. "You're hurting me, you idiot!" Bayonetta rolled her eyes at him. "Still thinking about your female spy?"

"I was just waiting for a call from S.H.I.E.L.D., it has nothing to do with the female spy," Salomon said, exasperated. He couldn't believe Bayonetta was so hostile towards Natasha. For some reason, Jeanne had joined in glaring at him, something that wasn't normal. "Well, the one who called you was the female spy," Jeanne said, "and you even bought her a gift—fourteen hundred dollars!"

"This topic is getting out of hand, isn't it?" The sorcerer bent down, buried his face in the cat's belly, and took a deep breath. His voice was deep and somber. "It's a necessity in interpersonal relationships, but the gift is different for everyone. The one that suited Agent Romanov (he deliberately didn't call him by his name) was those shoes."

"What about my gift?" Joan of Arc's eyes widened. "Last time you only brought a gift for Bayonetta."

"O all-knowing Agamotto!" Salomon closed his eyes in agony, covering his face, groans escaping his throat. Bayonetta collapsed onto Joan's lap, laughing hysterically. "Can anyone tell me what the hell is wrong with this woman's brain?!"

"That's what women are like, Boya." Bayonetta pulled Salomon closer so the sorcerer could lean against her. "You're in for a rough time. You should know, I'm not someone to mess with either."

"Alright, alright." Even though the Cheshire Cat, which had fallen onto the carpet, kept meowing, the sorcerer refused to open his eyes. Fortunately, the android Diana quickly picked up the cat, calming his pet down. Salomon said, "I've lost to you, witches. It seems this is my lifelong responsibility. Oh! The phone's ringing!" The sorcerer jumped up from the sofa and grabbed his phone from the table. He pressed the answer button, listened silently for a moment, and then hung up.

"What's wrong? Did you find it?" Joan of Arc stroked Bayonetta's long hair and asked casually as she looked up.

"The security camera caught Johnny Blaze buying whiskey, bread, and a large jar of peanut butter at a small supermarket in Eastern Europe. I have no idea how he communicates with the people there; they don't speak English—probably." Salomon waved his phone, because what he had just heard from the receiver was only a simplified version; the more detailed clues had been compiled into a file and sent over. "We haven't pinpointed Johnny Blaze's exact location yet, since there aren't many security cameras there. But judging from how often he buys alcohol, I think he probably lives in a rather remote area; otherwise, no one would have gone without finding him for so long."

The cameras were more effective than the planetary defense system in this matter, because the whole thing was rather strange from the start. The planetary defense system, equipped with the Eye of Agamotto, was incredibly sensitive; it could detect even minor vampire magic, let alone the vengeful spirit within Ghost Rider. And every night, Johnny Blaze would transform into Ghost Rider. Either he genuinely controlled the urge to transform, or someone was helping him conceal his presence so Kamar-Taj wouldn't discover him—either way, all they had to do was ask him.

"You're going now?" Bayonetta nudged Salomon's thigh with her toe, because she saw the arcane mage already organizing the contents of her dimensional bag. The homunculus seemed to have received instructions as well, ignoring her pet's protests as she dressed the increasingly obese Cheshire Cat in the assassin cat costume. The witch said, "It's still daytime."

"Although it's easier to find something shiny after dark, I want to explore the area first. At least Johnny Blaze is easier to communicate with when he's sober, and I can find out who's helping him."

"I don't think he's sober during the day either, Mystic," Joan said, pointing to the text on Salomon's phone. "A case of whiskey, bought every three days. I don't think someone who drinks excessively is ever sober. Maybe he's already ruined his brain with alcohol poisoning. When you find him, he might be picking up empty bottles on the roadside and drinking the contents."

"Then burn him to the bone, and drag him out into the sun. Bones can't preserve alcohol, I guarantee he'll sober up. I think I can tell how much whiskey he's drunk by the flames; the brighter the fire, the more he's drunk. That's a great idea. Hey, honey, if I run into an enemy I can't beat, I'll call you."

"Alright." Bayonetta waved her hand. "I'll definitely protect my dear little guy, as long as he remembers to bring me and Joan of Arc presents. And remember to have Diana take that sword with her, the one you oil every day."

----------

"I have no idea what language Romania speaks, dear Dinah," Salomon scratched his face. Autumn in northeastern Balkans is dry and cool, but for Salomon, who had just been in Northern Europe, it felt excessively dry. He didn't know how Johnny Blaze had gotten here, nor whether S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken any action—S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about Ghost Rider, the price he paid for the lead—but he had already informed Kamar-Taj and reported the witch's situation to the Sorcerer Supreme. So, as long as Kamar-Taj acted quickly, they were still hoping to find that demonic being (Tifflin) through Ghost Rider.

Salomon wished he had a pair of large horns on his head, that would make him too recognizable.

This is Slobozia, a border city between Romania and Bulgaria. It's hardly a tourist destination; all the buildings are incredibly old. He and the android's costume attracted some attention here. But it doesn't matter, the troublemakers have already disappeared. There are always clueless people everywhere; that's the fundamental logic of the world. So the only trace they left behind was a tiny bit of blood on the giant sword on the android's back.

Oh, and there were a few pistols and some bullets, but Salomon threw those away too.

"Master, I don't know either."

"Then tell me, how did Johnny Blaze get to the European continent?"

The android tilted its head and thought for a moment. "Perhaps it's riding a motorcycle? Master, you mentioned his amazing motorcycle."

"Riding a motorcycle across the Atlantic? That's a good idea, but the problem is, he'll sink during the day and only resurface at night—if he brings enough plastic bottles." The sorcerer made a small joke, but the homunculus didn't seem to understand the humor, so Salomon's joke fell flat. He could only roll his eyes and gesture with his chin towards the supermarket next to him.

"Let's go in and see," he said. "If Johnny Blaze hasn't drunk all the liquor here, he'll definitely show up again."

Please vote for me!!!

(End of this chapter)