Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 301 Salomon, the Contract Salesman (Second Update)

Salomon's words suffocated Mr. Finch. He didn't believe in fate or anything like that, nor did the slightly overweight, blue-T-shirt-wearing engineering nerd. He was about to scream when Samun Shaw pointed a pistol at his head, forcing him to swallow his scream back down.

“I think he should know about this by now, Finch,” Mr. Risser said in his characteristic deep voice. “I don’t know how he found this place, but once he showed up, he was definitely involved.”

Samun Shaw glanced at Mr. Reese, then at Mr. Finch. Harold Finch took a deep breath before explaining the situation to the sorcerer. Because the matter was complex, Mr. Finch could only give a brief account—in short, Mr. Finch had created a system that could monitor all data on the network and make judgments, identifying who might cause major disasters, and then sending this data to the appropriate departments capable of handling such events. These included, for example, S.H.I.E.L.D., the NSA, the CIA, and the FSA.

This is a small backdoor that Mr. Finch set up to receive "irrelevant data" that would normally be deleted, that is, data of ordinary people. Originally, this data would be deleted after midnight every day, but Mr. Finch preserved it because of his deceased companions—the reason Mr. Reese found Salomon was because that system gave Mr. Finch Salomon's social security number.

Artificial intelligence clearly did not anticipate that Salomon was a wizard.

Since 9/11, the US government has been developing something capable of monitoring the global internet, with all intelligence agencies involved. The so-called Prism Project was simply the most unsuccessful of these efforts. The system that was ultimately adopted was created by Mr. Finch and his colleagues—an independent-thinking system, an artificial intelligence, an electronic God.

In the world of the internet, this artificial intelligence is omnipotent. Mr. Finch designed the system to be watertight. After Mr. Finch and his colleagues handed over the server, the National Security Agency of the United States tried to hack into the system several times but failed. In order to protect this secret, many staff members who had participated in the transfer of the server were also killed by the intelligence organization.

This place was the last known location of the AI's server; the AI ​​had moved, and no one knew its exact whereabouts. Because Mr. Finch was worried about the AI ​​being misused, he wrote a virus, completely freeing it.

The virus was the reason Mr. Reese defected from the CIA; during the mission to retrieve it, he was betrayed by the organization.

Artificial intelligence had broken free from all the limitations imposed on it by its creator, Mr. Finch; the information it could output was no longer confined to social security accounts. After hearing this story, Salomon's heart nearly stopped. He couldn't imagine what kind of consequences an artificial intelligence with its own thoughts would cause in this chaotic world—just think of Ultron…

No, maybe this thing really will be useful. Thinking this, Salomon's eyes began to look strange. His organization desperately needed a system that could oversee the whole situation, a perfect source of intelligence. Could this be the meaning of fate's revelation?

"I know what you're going to say, artificial intelligence! I know, I didn't believe it at first either." Samun Shaw, who had Middle Eastern ancestry, nodded familiarly. "But I think it's not bad. You'll understand if you've ever experienced the internet. I know life in a cave isn't that convenient; I've experienced it."

"Do I have moss growing on me, Ms. Xiao? I'm a wizard, not a caveman."

"What's the difference? I heard that cell phones aren't allowed in the wizarding world..."

"Harry Potter isn't real..."

"Alright, alright, that's not our topic..." Harold promptly interrupted the increasingly absurd topic.

"Your work is even more powerful than Stark Industries' artificial intelligence, Mr. Harold," Salomon said, pulling his thoughts back to reality. He knew that while there were always some ridiculously intelligent individuals in the world, the fact that someone could single-handedly create artificial intelligence and have it run on hardware from years ago was enough to demonstrate that Mr. Finch's intelligence was no less than Tony Stark's. Of course, there was much more information Mr. Finch hadn't told Salomon. For example, his identity as an ancient programmer, and the fact that he played a part in the birth of the internet.

If Salomon knew, he might ask Mr. Finch to assemble a top-of-the-line computer for him to play games, and also to optimize his annoying Windows system.

"It's just a matter of permissions. When we were developing this machine, the National Security Agency granted us extensive permissions... although this machine could do these things even without them. Anyway, now is not a good time to talk; we've already wasted a lot of time..."

However, despite Mr. Finch's efforts to simplify the facts, they still spent a considerable amount of time explaining the situation, so much so that Mr. Reese had only just finished treating the kneeling woman's wounds when NSA agents stormed into the nuclear facility. Even now, Salomon still didn't know who the woman was; she seemed lost in thought, saying nothing and not even flinching as her wounds were treated.

"resemble."

"You should have been quicker when you killed me, Hersh."

The scene of the master and apprentice reuniting was not touching at all; both sides wished they could shove bullets into each other's brains, and Samun Shaw wouldn't mind stabbing her former mentor to death with her high nose.

"I know this is nothing compared to the catastrophic scene before us, but I thought you wouldn't betray us, Shaw."

Samun Shaw previously worked for an intelligence agency within the National Security Agency, whose main mission was to solve numbers assigned by artificial intelligence, namely eliminating terrorist organizations that could cause major disasters—until her former partner discovered something suspicious during a mission, sent a letter to his superior, and was subsequently killed by his own people. Samun Shaw then defected from the organization called "Northern Lights".

The person who just said that was Samun Shaw's former boss.

"It's a bit much to say that in this situation." Somehow, Samne Shaw's tone often carried a bit of a scathing edge, and Salomon felt he should be able to get along well with this woman—in fact, he quite liked her sense of humor.

"What do you want?" The female agent raised an eyebrow and asked her former boss.

"Have a word with your new friend." The official, with the unsettling hair often seen on middle-aged white men, looked at Harold. "I've always known Ingram has powerful backers, like a black hole. Unseen, yet incredibly powerful. Tell me, where did you move the machine?"

"It moved away on its own," Mr. Finch calmly replied.

"Who is controlling it?"

"Currently, it is in self-control."

Will they continue to give us those numbers?

"Then it's up to the machine to decide."

"If we cannot continue, then our country will be completely defenseless..."

Hearing this, Salomon couldn't help but laugh. "Sir, you can't let the military hear you say that," the arcane mage said, displaying his untimely humor. "They may be useless, but at least they created a giant green monster. And S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury will think you're an idiot."

"An uncontrollable monster, like the other freaks in the Battle of New York. Our nation cannot be defended by a bunch of free men. S.H.I.E.L.D. has proven its incompetence." The official wasn't angry; he shifted his gaze to Salomon. The arcane mage was the most conspicuously dressed among the group—his crimson shroud with seven silver clasps was extremely eye-catching, not to mention the enormous silver key on his chest and the gleaming gemstone rings on his fingers.

"Excuse me, may I ask who you are...?"

"One of the freaks you just mentioned." The sorcerer shrugged, pulling several parchment sheets from his pouch. "Sign a contract? Everyone who's signed one says it's good, I guarantee it. Honestly, if I were a devil, I'd probably be the one who advances the fastest."

Please vote for this post!!

(End of this chapter)