Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 265 The Goddess of the Banquet (Second Update! Requesting Recommendation Votes!)

Agent Hill never expected that Killian, the culprit who injured Happy, would appear at Stark Tower at this crucial moment. Prior to this, rumors of the Mandarin hijacking television signals to deliver a speech by the president had been rampant. If the military hadn't refused S.H.I.E.L.D.'s assistance to save face—an act that played right into Nick Fury's hands—he would have been at the White House, not at Trisolaris headquarters.

However, S.H.I.E.L.D. could not allow this to continue. Although S.H.I.E.L.D. had evidence linking Killian to the Extremis virus, it didn't prove anything, because the project was funded by the military, and investigating it would mean going against the military. This was something S.H.I.E.L.D. absolutely could not do. Nick Fury wasn't foolish enough to create trouble for himself; he had other things to do and didn't have time to attend the hearing.

Agent Maria Hill didn't say much to Ms. Pepper Potts, as some things were inconvenient to disclose, and S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't explain how they knew about the Extremis virus—these were acts of espionage, not to be discussed openly. While Ms. Potts was eager to accept S.H.I.E.L.D.'s offer of protection, Tony Stark seemed stubbornly refusing to admit it. Although he sought help privately, he still believed he could resolve these matters through his own intelligence. As a psychologically vulnerable modern man, the Battle of New York had a profound impact on Stark; the shock, beyond his comprehension, cast a shadow over many, including the billionaire Stark.

According to NYPD statistics, after the Battle of New York, the crime rate in New York City rose faster than the unemployment rate. The black market for alien weapons was just emerging, and all of New York's gangs got involved. Drug sales skyrocketed, making New York the largest drug market—one in five Americans had been exposed to drugs, and other types of drugs were also spreading rapidly.

They also found a homeless man. This homeless man was originally a typical urban white-collar worker, married, with children, car and mortgage payments, working diligently and often working overtime. After the Battle of New York, he abandoned his job, leading his family to believe he was dead. When the NYPD found him, he hadn't shaved for months, and was smoking a large cigarette, drinking with a group of homeless people, refusing to go home.

"What's the point of working anyway!" he said. "We're all going to die when the aliens come. As for the Avengers... if you ask me, they shouldn't be saving the world. How bad can this world be? Look at me, if I'm still alive, I'll have to work until I die with this burden. If I lose my job, that family is doomed... hiccup... so... hiccup... death benefits are better. At least my wife can still collect them for several years."

The police also found a tattered copy of the Arthurian legend on him; it was unclear where he had found it. "This is more reliable than the National Guard. I've seen what King Arthur looked like; I was in the office building at the time," the homeless man slurred. "I always feel like I'm out of touch with the times, but at least I have something familiar in this era. My daughter likes this story, and so do I… My grandmother told me about it; she was an English immigrant, and I've told my daughter this story… I also know other things, like the Lady of the Lake, like the Irish Goblins… This world changes too fast; people need retro things, they need jazz, they need cocaine-infused cola, they need to go back to 17th-century colonial times, using religion to fill the void in their hearts…"

This was a widespread anxiety in the hearts of Americans after the Battle of New York. Stark's way of dealing with this anxiety was not through drugs or endless parties, but through researching his Iron Man suit. Only more powerful armor could combat this inescapable fear. Therefore, he was unwilling to admit defeat. If he did, it would mean he had lost to the terrorists, that his Iron Man suit could not defend against aliens, and that anxiety would return.

Therefore, he refused any help that came to him, and even after Salomon returned to the Material Plane, he was unwilling to tell the arcane about it.

"Salomon, wake up!" The sorcerer's eyes suddenly widened. This was at Athena's art salon, and even though the surrounding environment was somewhat noisy, it still couldn't stop him from dozing off from the very beginning. It wasn't until Athena gently pinched his ear that he was brought back to his senses.

Seeing tears welling in Salomon's eyes, Athena finally released her grip. "Today is to celebrate the success of Vanessa's art exhibition," Athena said, holding a champagne glass and lowering her voice. "Whether the paintings sell or not, you must project an image of optimism for the future. Do you understand?"

"Why me?" Salomon groaned, rubbing his ears and then quietly yawning. "Can't Lorna do it too?" he said. "Little Lorna is so cute, she looks stunning in a dress. I have classes to teach, and I only get three hours of sleep a day these days."

"Because I am your mother, you are my son, you are my pride." Athena avoided the topic of Lorna. For some reason, little Lorna suddenly went into her rebellious phase, becoming obsessed with pop culture. Although she didn't stay out all night like the other girls at school, her stubborn and disobedient attitude was quite a headache. Bringing Lorna to this pretentious place was like dropping a bomb.

Salomon yawned again, letting Athena straighten his clothes and tie before accepting his foster mother's kiss. "Honestly, I don't like these kinds of occasions either," he said, squinting like a lazy cat. "I prefer you in armor, spear in hand. I think that suits you better. Formal attire doesn't enhance your radiance, but armor does, most beautiful goddess of Olympus."

"No matter how nicely you say it, it won't reduce your martial arts training time. Now, stand up, go and greet those artists, and then show them your new work." Although the wise female warrior said she didn't care about the praise, her expression betrayed her thoughts.

"Do you still have any Circe's potion? I want to put it in my drink—it's always pleasant to deal with a bunch of stupid pigs, but not so easy with a bunch of vain, human-looking stupid pigs. These pigs even expect the salmon to have listened to jazz while being smoked," the sorcerer said. "I've never seen such stupid people. My sculptures are all very classical idols; do you think they can understand them?"

"I'm not stupid enough to mess with a heartbroken woman just so you can avoid social situations."

"Has Circe still not recovered from her heartbreak? It's been over two thousand years! Odysseus was such a bad guy."

"Don't be jealous, my affections belong to you now, Salomon." Athena smiled and pulled the sorcerer toward a group of artists. She lowered her voice and said, "Hecate is on Earth. Next time, go see her beforehand and ask her if she has any potions that can help you escape the banquet."

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(End of this chapter)