Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 305 The Second Mecha Girl? (Second Update)

When Stark met Harold Finch, he first asked him if he was the creator of artificial intelligence. After receiving an affirmative answer, Tony Stark opened his wine cabinet and shared some fine wine with Mr. Finch.

This was the wine he used to entertain prominent figures in academia; only intelligent people could earn his respect—a rare step forward, as Stark had never intended to show respect to others before.

Although Mr. Finch agreed to Salomon's offer, his companions, for safety reasons, arranged for an envoy, Samun Shaw, to escort Mr. Finch to this unfamiliar place. While she didn't know exactly what she was to do, for Mr. Finch's sake, she decided to sit quietly at the bar and eat snacks.

This allowed her to safely get through Mr. Finch's tedious academic discussions with Stark, where she would get a headache just hearing those technical terms.

"What are you doing?" Ms. Samun Shaw asked the sorcerer, who was also sitting at the bar, in a muffled voice as she popped a piece of sashimi into her mouth. "Are you serious?" When she leaned closer and saw the contents of the sorcerer's computer, her expression looked as if she had choked. "Are you doing homework?"

"I'm still a student." Salomon didn't turn around; he continued writing his paper on his computer, a piece of chewing gum stuck to the webcam on his laptop. "If I hadn't found out about that machine, I'd probably be in my room writing right now. But that's impossible now, because that machine can see my magic book."

"Oh my god, you're not one of those people who stand on the rooftop protesting their privacy being violated, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Do you British secondary schools still teach the Bible? Is this really not your history assignment?" Samun Shaw asked curiously, pointing at Salomon's screen, which displayed a discussion of evangelical reformation. The sorcerer shifted to the other side, moving his computer slightly away from Samun Shaw's soy-smeared fingers.

"You don't look British. You're not fair-skinned or rosy enough, and you don't even have freckles. You look like you're of Middle Eastern and European descent."

"I have pure Abrahamic blood, just like you, Ms. Shaw."

"So how did you get to America?"

"Where is Mr. Risser?" The sorcerer tried to distract Samun Shaw with another topic so that she wouldn't disturb his homework.

“There’s a new number. Harold thinks I’m not suited for this job because I’m too rough. So John sent me here, and Harold will pay me.” Samun Shaw laughed, seemingly pleased with her own rough behavior. She turned and stuffed another cookie into her mouth—thanks to Mr. Finch’s suggestion, Salomon and Stark had no idea how to keep this lady in line.

Do you know Captain America?

"Yes, the relationship wasn't pleasant."

"What about Thor?"

"It's even more unpleasant now."

"Where's Hawkeye?"

"Not familiar with them."

"Looks like you and Stark get along well. You intellectuals get along better. As for Black Widow... she's too hot. If she's open to women, I don't mind. There's only one Avenger left. You won't turn green or grow bigger. A simple process of elimination can figure out who you are. Salomon, you're the Silver Knight!" Samun Shaw licked his fingers, his black ponytail swaying contentedly.

She extended her hand to Salomon. Under the enigmatic wizard's questioning gaze, she shook her hand again.

"A gun!" She raised an eyebrow, looking incredulous. "Don't you have a gun? John told me about your super-sized handgun! Show it to me!"

Salomon realized he had been too presumptuous; he had no chance of getting along with this woman, she was driving him crazy.

Mr. Finch seemed to have finished his discussion with Stark. He paced back and forth in front of a row of computers, updating the firewall with Jarvis's help. His limp did not affect his work speed at all.

"Where did you find him, Salomon?" Stark finished the last of his drink. "He's incredibly knowledgeable in programming; if anyone's the creator of artificial intelligence, he's the only one qualified. While I don't want to admit defeat, I have to say he's definitely better than me in this area—perhaps I could invite him to work with me?"

"I think that's unlikely. Harold would rather stay in the library and not come out," Samun Shaw mumbled, and no one knew exactly how much she had eaten. Stark wisely kept quiet after catching a glimpse of her biceps.

Tony Stark was busy at the computer opposite him, updating Jarvis. Jarvis protected Stark Industries' critical technological data, keeping it physically isolated; Tony Stark absolutely did not want his technological achievements stolen.

“I think you can trust my machine, Mr. Damonette. I created it to protect lives. I trained my machine to predict criminal activity, and even if it sees that information, it won’t leak it to anyone. Your worries are unnecessary, Mr. Damonette; until then, it will only give you numbers,” Mr. Finch said. “And firewalls don’t always work; you must understand that. Even the strongest firewalls require continuous maintenance.”

"Magic is not just simple words and patterns, Harold. Magical runes have an effect on anything that sees them." Salomon turned his chair around, picked up a pen, and wrote a rune on a piece of paper.

"Did you see that, Kenza?"

He shook the paper, and then, before everyone's eyes, he revealed the meaning of the rune. The printed paper spontaneously combusted, even when removed from a heat source. "This is the power of magic, Mr. Finch. It wasn't me who activated this rune, but you who know its meaning." Salomon stomped on the flames until the printed paper was extinguished. He said, "My magical database contains some extremely dangerous content. If your artificial intelligence wants to acquire a moving form—I happen to have that kind of information, and I've even created it. I don't think you'd want your machine to execute commands on its own, Mr. Finch?"

"You created the Terminator?" Samun's eyes widened.

"It's not that exaggerated. What I created is an alchemical doll, a synthetic being with human ecology and superhuman strength. It's completely different!" the sorcerer said. "In fact, you've already seen it. I believe Mr. Reese must have had you investigate Dina, my maid. She's an alchemical doll I created, an assistant who shares my life. If your machines have those devices and materials, they could very well replicate my previous processes and create their own form."

"You're a real freak! I can imagine what you think she is!" Salomon moved further to the side, because Ms. Samun Shaw seemed about to punch him in the head. Samun smiled, but her reaction was somewhat flat; only anger seemed to be a normal emotional expression.

"An alchemy assistant and a grocery-shopping maid, you stupid woman!" The sorcerer scoffed. "Do I look like that kind of person? Get out of my way." Salomon turned back to Harold. "If you don't want your machine knocking on your door one day, you'll have to do me this favor, Mr. Finch—provided that the data hasn't been accessed by your machine yet."

What Salomon didn't mention was the content regarding the Immortal City Laboratory. Not long ago, Maya Hansen had suggested that Salomon connect the laboratory to the internet, and now, with this incident, the laboratory's construction progress would be delayed again.

"We're doomed." Samun Shaw slumped back in his chair. "I think the machine should have already gotten that part of the data; that's how it's portrayed in the movies."

"I didn't know you became so pessimistic, Ms. Xiao. I'm working hard right now!"

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(End of this chapter)