Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 294 A Protected Subject Possessing Abundant Martial Virtue (First Update!)

Mr. Risser sat helplessly in the driver's seat, watching Salomon Damonette in the passenger seat inspecting a firearm with an excessively large caliber, the bullets of which were also unusually large.

A former CIA agent believed that this gun was not something a human could use because it lacked a rear grip and stock, and the recoil during use was enough to tear an ordinary person's wrist apart.

But Salomon is no ordinary person.

Seemingly sensing the gazes of his companions, Salomon waved the gun in front of Mr. Rither. The intricately carved patterns on the gun indicated that it was not a mass-produced product. "This is the prototype of the bolt-action weapon," he said. "I commissioned the best craftsmen to forge this weapon, and it took almost a month just to design and stabilize it. The designer is not human, and the materials used are magical metals. Mr. Rither, you know that the threats we face are different."

"I don't think a Chitauri's head could withstand such a bullet," Mr. Rither said softly. He wasn't unfamiliar with the odd cases he'd encountered before. Ever since Finch, aka Mr. Harold, approached him, every time the machine spat out a social security number, it meant Mr. Rither was going to protect someone.

This person could be a victim or a perpetrator, and his mission is to prevent murder from happening.

"We're dealing with ordinary humans; your weapons are far too overpowered. Our goal isn't to kill, but to solve your problems."

"I appreciate the reminder from you and your companions, but I also have my own reasons for dealing with my own troubles. I don't have a gun, and you won't let me bring a longsword ('I think that's worse than a gun!' Finch muttered in the earpiece), so I'll have to take my only weapon, which, with one shot, will let them know they've messed with the wrong person—don't mention magic, I won't use magic in front of these people. And don't forget you still owe me a magic blanket, Mr. Reese."

The former CIA agent took a deep breath, turned around, and continued to monitor the dilapidated bar across the street. Even in the darkness, he could clearly see the people there.

Salomon is indeed in trouble, but these threats come from ordinary people. Mr. Harold's system can't distinguish wizards, otherwise it wouldn't have given out Salomon Damonette's social security number. It seems Salomon doesn't need help now, but Mr. Rither wants to resolve the trouble without causing any deaths.

He was referring to the lives of the gangsters, not Salomon's. Mr. Rither believed that no one could threaten a wizard or someone wielding a large-caliber gun loaded with rocket-propelled bullets.

"Finch, how much do you think a magic blanket is worth?"

"I don't know. Even if our wizard is willing to accept dollars, the price of a magic blanket would be outrageously high."

Mr. Risser sighed again, recalling how things had gotten so bad.

Salomon opened the metal briefcase and carefully examined the documents inside. After slowly reading through them, he finally gave Agent Grant Ward his reply. "I agree to Agent Coulson's terms." He had the android untie Agent Ward's restraints. "I will contact him if necessary."

"And what about this guy?" Agent Ward pursed his lips and rubbed his wrist. Although he still had some questions, as an agent, he had long since developed the habit of not asking. He glared at Mr. Rither, who was tied to another chair. "I can tell he's a professional; he's the same kind of person as me. Do you need me to take care of him?"

Mr. Reese didn't take Agent Ward's words to heart. He glanced at the android—Dina, a girl not listed in the files. It seemed Salomon Damonette was quite popular with women. Moreover, it now appeared that Salomon Damonette had deep connections with the intelligence organization S.H.I.E.L.D., which was why he couldn't access the information on Salomon's phone, forcing him to infiltrate this house to search for clues.

And that's how they ended up in their current predicament.

Perhaps it was because of his close ties with the intelligence organization that the machine gave him the prompt? It seems he's gotten himself into big trouble.

"No need, Agent Ward, I'll handle this. Also, remember to take a bag of cookies before you leave; they're my maid's creation, you have to try them." The arcane sorcerer handed Agent Ward back his miniature earpiece. "Now call Agent Coulson and have him tell Nick Fury—withdraw the surveillance personnel now, or they can expect to be out in the Pacific Ocean looking for them. I'm not giving your agents a lifeline."

Agent Ward glanced at Salomon suspiciously, then followed the arcane mage's instructions. After the call, he nodded, indicating that Salomon's request had been fulfilled. Only after the android escorted Agent Ward out of the apartment did the arcane mage begin to question the man in the suit sitting opposite him.

"Many creatures want my life, but none of them are human. I feel you have no connection to the magical world, so why have you come to me? Oh, I'm also asking your companions a question at the same time..."

"We believe you're in trouble, life-threatening trouble, Mr. Damonette. We're here to help you, although the current situation suggests you don't need help... Could you please release my partner first? I promise I'll tell you everything," the voice in the earpiece said. "I assure you, we mean no harm."

"Very well." Salomon glanced at the man in the suit, casting a spell to confirm that he indeed meant no harm. He released Mr. Rither's restraints and handed him back the earpiece. "I await your explanation; it will determine your fate."

After a brief self-introduction and explanation, Salomon roughly understood what Mr. Riser and his companion, Mr. Harold, had done.

"This is a noble thing, sir, to save an innocent life. Although I don't know where you got this information, I'm sure no one is paying you."

The sorcerer had the android pour Mr. Rither a cup of black tea. "I've taken many lives, all of them dark magic creatures. Except for that first time, when I had no choice... After that, I haven't taken any ordinary people's lives. At least not innocent ordinary people's lives. I think it's better not to make any absolute statements."

Mr. Reese stared expressionlessly at Salomon's face, assessing the veracity of the high school student's words. He was an agent; he wouldn't so easily trust others—he'd made that mistake many times before.

"John, most of the surveillance personnel have left, only a few remained. I believe they are the reason the machine gave Salomon's Social Security number... I contacted Officer Carter and asked her to help me investigate these people." Finch observed the evacuation of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents through the cameras across the building. He said, "However, I have a rough idea of ​​who these people are; they're probably old friends of ours. Sorry, I still can't access his phone; it has very strong security measures..."

"I understand." Mr. Risser glanced at his phone. "Looks like our good student has gotten involved with the mob. Salomon Damonette, are you connected to illegal dealings?"

"Why do you ask? I don't need to commit crimes to get money." The sorcerer shamelessly lied, as if he had never stolen money from the bank. "The only thing I've ever done related to crime is breaking the legs of a few thugs who tried to knock on my door to sell cocaine... or maybe more than a few, I cleared out all the thugs around my apartment."

"This is a high-end apartment building; there are lots of wealthy people here..."

“Now I know where his troubles come from; he’s blocked the drug market from entering the upscale neighborhood.” Mr. Rither put down his teacup and stood up. “I have to warn those people before they get themselves killed. Salomon isn’t a victim; he’s the perpetrator. I have to find a way to get rid of him…”

“I don’t think those criminals will take your advice, John,” Finch said. “They’ll just think you’re in cahoots with him. Salomon Damonette caused those petty thugs to be crippled for life, and the exorbitant surgery costs are beyond their means.”

"That's why I want to keep them away from here..."

"You should know I can hear you, right?" Salomon pointed to his ear. "You can think of it as magic or something, but I heard your conversation."

Mr. Rither stared at the sorcerer, and Salomon continued, "The gangsters, probably the leaders of those petty thugs. If I don't warn them, they'll break into my apartment sooner or later just like you."

"Don't worry, I won't kill them. My every move is governed by rules, unless… So, Mr. Finch, I think I can handle this myself. In the meantime, I need to see you to have you sign a confidentiality agreement regarding magic, otherwise I'll have to alter your memories. Mr. Reese, you go first."

Harold sighed.

Please vote for this post!

(End of this chapter)