Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 275 New Subordinates (Second Update)

Salomon felt incredibly foolish. Back when Mephisto's avatar met him in the school lab, the old devil had already revealed his hostility towards Marduk, mentioning the "Son of Satan." At the time, the sorcerer had feigned ignorance, making no attempt to inquire further. He hadn't realized that Mephisto's scheme had included both him and that madman Marduk in its calculations. Regardless of who won or lost between him and Marduk, Mephisto would profit handsomely, and could even use this to instigate a war between Hell and the Abyss, thus solving the problem of inflation.

Regardless, Mephisto is the winner.

The sorcerer pondered, trying to find a way out of the old devil's scheme. However, Mephisto didn't leave any opportunities openly. Even if he blatantly revealed a flaw, Salomon would think it was just the old devil's bait, and once he stepped into the trap, something even worse would happen.

His troubles were unknown to others, but for Americans right now, the biggest trouble was undoubtedly the kidnapping of the US president. Police stations in every major city were inundated with calls because terrorists had broadcast live footage of the president's impending execution by burning at the stake. The streets were in chaos, with people spreading doomsday prophecies and claiming the terrorists were divine punishment—so they were imprisoned.

However, they were released not long afterward because the temporary jail in the police station couldn't hold that many people. The jail was for people who had actually committed crimes. A bunch of idiots who really wanted to go to hell were nothing but annoyances.

New York City Police Commissioner George Stacy is undoubtedly one of the most troublesome police commissioners in the United States; he'd even bet he's the unluckiest police commissioner in the country. A few days ago, several murders occurred near an orphanage in Athena Hill, but police only found bloodstains, not bodies, and they didn't even find the murder weapon.

Immediately afterwards, another theft occurred in the police station's archives. All the security cameras were turned off at night, and there were no signs of forced entry on any of the locks. However, all the information about the murders in the archives had vanished, and the computer hard drives were burned. The perpetrator left no clues, and no one knew how the guy did it.

Just as George Stacy began her investigation, the US president was kidnapped, causing widespread panic across America (except in the ghettos, where no one cared who the president was). Police stations received calls every few minutes. Theft was a minor issue compared to the inexplicable looting of shops by bizarrely organized protests—organized by human rights groups, small churches brainwashed by religious indoctrination, racist groups, and even animal rights groups (nobody knew what this had to do with environmental organizations, but they seemed to be protesting terrorists setting fire to fuel canisters and polluting the environment).

Various social organizations seemed to have been suddenly stirred up, taking to the streets in protests that even the police couldn't stop. Left with no other option, George Stacy had to deploy armed police to isolate the protesters and try to prevent clashes between demonstrators from different groups.

That's all they can do; the NYPD doesn't have enough manpower to handle other cases. However, things don't always go as planned. Disagreement-ridden protest groups inevitably clash, and Chief George Stacy is constantly dealing with emergencies. He also has to kick out those third-rate reporters who can't get firsthand information about the president's kidnapping.

Sixteen hours have passed since the US president was kidnapped, and the terrorists are sending out videos every so often. In the videos, President Ellis is seen suspended in mid-air by two chains, with a huge oil drum beneath his feet. At a certain time, the oil drum will be ignited, and flames will engulf everything above.

Now, there is no quiet place left in the peaceful and serene New York City.

"This is really lively." The sorcerer stood on the rooftop of a tall building, observing the various protest groups in the city through binoculars. He stretched out his other hand to the side, and a warm, paper-wrapped object was placed in his hand. "Won't you have a bite, Ms. Maya Hansen?" The sorcerer put down his binoculars, took a bite of the Baptist beef patty he had bought from Chicago, and said, "I bought several of them. Baptist beef is a must-try delicacy."

“There’s no need to give me any titles.” Maya Hansen frowned. “You still haven’t told me why you saved me. I should be dead, but I don’t even have a scar.”

"You need to understand what your future boss does, ma'am." Salomon didn't drop the formality. "My time is limited, so I can't learn everything in the world. But I especially need your virology knowledge, so I found you—don't worry, you'll get paid, you'll just need a different name. After all, Maya Hansen is dead, and the military won't let any scapegoat go."

"What do you want me to do?" Maya Hansen gave a pathetic laugh. "Do you want the Extremis virus too?"

“No, other viruses.” Salomon ignored Maya Hansen’s sarcasm. “Diseases caused by viruses, diseases caused by bacteria—I need you to help me trigger them. Let’s put it this way, what I do isn’t much different from what Killian does; I will also create a group of enhanced individuals. It’s just that these people will possess a small amount of magic; they will become my assassins, my shadow, gathering intelligence for me and assassinating enemies for me. And what you need to do is trigger those viruses, allowing my assassins to develop immunity, and incidentally, check their vital signs and monitor the entire experiment—my alchemical mutation potion has side effects.”

"Alright, magician boss, what's your goal?" Maya Hansen asked boldly. "World domination?"

"I have no interest in that goal right now. My enemies come from outer dimensions beyond the Prime Material Plane, from cults and dark magic creatures lurking in the gutter. Demons, nightmares, beasts, all sorts of monstrous creatures that could threaten humanity are my enemies. I am now facing a war against demons, and I need manpower."

"That sounds amazing, can I know more?"

"You're very curious." Salomon put down his binoculars and glanced at the disheveled virologist. "But you weren't even a little surprised when I opened the portal."

"I should have died long ago, I should have gone to hell long ago. I know what I've done." Maya Hansen shook her head and said with a look of disdain, "I thought I was already dead. What I saw was just a hallucination before I died."

"Then you should eat something. I spent a lot of diamonds to save you, so you should make sure your digestive system is okay. Don't be so sad. You'll be exposed to knowledge you've never encountered before, such as alchemy."

"May I ask a question?"

"Excuse me."

"How many people are actually in your organization?"

"Uh... My organization has many spellcasters, but you belong to the organization I founded that targets the secular world..."

"so?"

"So far... you're the only human."

"What does this mean?"

"There is also an android who is in charge of managing this organization."

"Alright." Maya Hansen smiled. "A boss who can come back from the dead, mysterious contracts, and portals that allow me to travel all over the world—my day has certainly been quite eventful."

"There's more to come." The sorcerer tossed aside the food scraps in his hand and opened a portal. "Next, you will see an organization that has influenced the course of human history. This organization has a history of thousands of years, and many famous people were its members: Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Tesla, and even Howard Stark. Now, the legacy of this organization belongs to me, and you can learn all its knowledge. What I have discovered so far is merely the tip of the iceberg."

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(End of this chapter)