Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 238 The Alcoholic Black Priest Won't Dream of Ghost Rider (Second Update)

Since the giant sword was carried by a seemingly delicate little girl, looking like some kind of foam movie prop, Salomon and the android didn't stop them from entering the supermarket. Of course, it was also possible that the elderly, overweight security guard was dozing off at the entrance, but regardless, with the help of his smooth talk and language skills, Salomon managed to stammer out some information from the cashier, spending about $20—no one would forget a man who always wore a leather jacket, was greasy, and frequently bought alcohol. The cashier said that the man definitely didn't shower often; his leather jacket was practically stinking, and if it weren't for the need to make a sale, the man wouldn't have been able to get in at all.

"To be honest, I wouldn't want to go in that place either." After leaving the supermarket, Salomon spoke to the android in English. "It reeked of fermented discarded baby diapers. I can only imagine what the supermarket's toilets were like. What kind of person could stay there for so long? We've got the clues: the man covered in engine oil and the location of the abandoned auto repair shop. Now it's time to go check it out."

"Yes, Master." The android lady did not comment on Salomon's complaints; she simply carried out the arcane mage's orders faithfully.

However, when Salomon and the Homunculus Station arrived at the abandoned repair shop through the portal, they found it to be in a terrible state. A pungent smell of engine oil permeated the air, and the black sand, pale concrete, and rusted corrugated iron walls all emitted a cold, greasy odor. This place might have once been an important repair shop in the last century, but now it was utterly abandoned.

Few people usually come here. Even homeless people don't want to live in such a remote place because it's far from the city and getting food isn't easy. There's no running water or electricity, and the people who used to live here have long since moved to the city. Even wild animals don't want to come here, so Salomon didn't expect to encounter anyone other than his target here.

"You can control that demon and make it work for you, right? You are stronger than that deep, hungry demon."

"Who are you?" Salomon stared wide-eyed at the black man reeking of alcohol in front of him. One of his targets, Johnny Blaze, ignored everyone and walked out on his own, clutching his forehead and leaning against his motorcycle, which was covered by a tarpaulin.

"And who the hell are you?" The black man in the tattered leather jacket sized up the sorcerer and the android, his attention drawn to the red shroud Salomon. He turned to Johnny Blaze and asked, "Anyone else coming for you?"

"Hey, move aside, I need to talk to him." The arcane mage squeezed past the drunken black man, the android standing nearby, ready to draw his greatsword at any moment. Salomon grabbed Johnny Blaze by the collar and shook him hard, trying to sober him up. "Tell me, Johnny, how did you escape from America to here? Who helped you cover your tracks?"

"I don't know... and who the hell are you?"

"I apologize, I haven't introduced myself yet." Salomon released his grip, took a pair of white gloves from his pocket and put them on to avoid touching the stubborn oil stains on the leather jacket. "I am a Kamar-Taj sorcerer. The avatar of Mephisto that you encountered last time has already been melted down by us, and we were also the ones who saved your girlfriend. I imagine you must have looked into the situation after what happened that night. I hope Carter Slade is detailed enough so I can save myself some trouble. Don't mind that you've caused such a commotion; S.H.I.E.L.D. will definitely target you, and we at Kamar-Taj won't place our hopes on an uncontrollable vengeful spirit."

"Hey, wizard!" Moru didn't know what Kamar-Taj was, but the more he looked at the Shroud of Tartars, the more familiar it seemed. "Where did you steal your Shroud of Tartars from?"

"I don't know about that, after all, it was given to me by the Sorcerer Supreme." Salomon waved his hand behind him, signaling the homunculus to pull the black man away so he wouldn't disturb his interrogation. He said to Johnny Blaze, "I met your girlfriend before I left..."

"Rose..."

"Great, you haven't lost your memory from drinking too much yet, then I've come at just the right time!" The sorcerer gave a perfunctory smile, a token twitch at the corners of his mouth. "She said she was going to punch you a few times, Johnny Blaze. Now, tell me, is anyone helping you? If your answer satisfies me..."

"Do you think I would be like this if someone had helped me?"

"Hey, hey! F*uck, I won't hurt your little boyfriend, let me through, shit! How are you so strong? Listen up, wizard, Ghost Rider has a very important mission, he's not going anywhere!" Moru tried to squeeze through, but the android held him firmly, unable to move an inch. He held out a photograph, "Ghost Rider needs to save him! If your conscience hasn't been completely devoured by witchcraft, let him go and let him do what he's destined to do!"

"Fantastic!" Salomon released Johnny Blaze with a broad smile, turned, and took the photograph from Moru's hand. "Is this the demonic one?" he asked. "He doesn't look anything special. Hasn't he embraced the demonic blood within him yet?"

"You're looking for him too? What do you want to do to him?" Moru was first surprised, then furious. He tried to rush forward, but was easily subdued by the homunculus and forced to kneel on the ground. He shouted angrily, "I know what you wizards are like! You'll do anything for power. F*uck, let me go! I warn you, don't hurt this boy, he's innocent! I should have known! I thought you were young, that your heart could still be saved, but I never imagined you were just like all wizards!"

"The fate of that Tyflin is determined by circumstances, not by me." Salomon shook his head, putting the photo into his dimensional bag. "Where is this boy?"

"Your target isn't Ghost Rider, it's this boy, isn't it? Are you that devil's lackey?" The black man struggled repeatedly, but to no avail. He closed his eyes, silently reciting a prayer, then raised his head again and spat at Salomon. "Get out of here, you devil's lackey! You won't get any information about this boy from God's servant! Knight, stand up, find the boy, save him, and I will redeem your soul!"

The sorcerer spread his hands in confusion, wondering how he had become Mephisto's servant.

"Ahem, you..." Salomon was about to speak when he was patted on the shoulder.

"Give me the photos," Johnny Blazer said impatiently. "Give me the photos."

"Tsk, my dear Ghost Rider, you seem to have messed with the wrong person." Salomon said with a smile, then looked back at the kneeling priest. "Dear priest, if I were you, it would be time to kneel and worship the representative of the Abrahamic pantheon."

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(End of this chapter)