Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 374 The Responsibility Beared (First Update)

After Salomon launched into a furious speech expressing his distrust of the Skrulls, his mood shifted instantly, so quickly that even veteran agent Coulson was surprised. Salomon himself didn't see the point in letting his bad mood linger; he was quite adept at Professor Kamar-Taj's emotional management techniques.

“I want to make a deal with Nick Fury.” His tone was eerily calm, and Agent Coulson instinctively focused his attention. “It’s a secret deal.” Salomon squinted, his eyes obscured by the sunlight. “I understand Nick Fury’s need for Skrull assistance in certain matters. He has many secrets he can’t reveal, and even if he summons Skrulls, I won’t be able to discover them immediately—to be honest, I don’t see the need to use expensive divination spells on Skrulls; those shapeshifting parasites aren’t worth the price. But that doesn’t mean I can refuse to kill the Skrull before me, unless it will serve a good purpose in the future.”

"What do you mean?" Agent Coulson was completely confused.

"I need death row inmates." Salomon's expression was calm, but his words sent a chill down Agent Coulson's spine in the sweltering Spanish street. His suit, which had been slightly stuffy, couldn't ward off the chill emanating from him. "Serious offenders, life imprisonment or those facing the electric chair immediately," he said. "In my hands, those scum will make contributions to human society that they never made in their lifetimes. I'm sure S.H.I.E.L.D. has a lot of them secretly holding, and I think getting them from Nick Fury is much easier than going to Guantanamo Bay to arrest them myself."

"What are you going to do?" Coulson had barely finished speaking when he realized he'd asked a foolish question. He didn't think Salomon would tell him the truth; this magician was a complete mystic, and he would never reveal anything he didn't want to.

Surprisingly, Salomon did not shy away from the question.

"Human experimentation." He uttered a word that sent chills down his spine, one that crossed the line of ethics and morality, but his demeanor suggested he was seeking someone to confide in. "You could think of it as me conducting experiments that the US military had been doing before, only I went a step further. No, not some low-level stuff like super-soldier serum, it's genetic modification, but I don't think that stuff is human."

Salomon let out a long sigh.

"I know what you're worried about, Coulson, and I know what I'm doing." The sorcerer seemed somewhat somber. "I'm creating superhuman warriors whose enemies aren't humans, Earth's governments, intelligence agencies, or secret organizations, but various dark magic creatures and extradimensional beings. Just as I've learned, I control my own power and talents; these warriors are my power too. But just as I control myself, I will control them—they will be brainwashed, instilled with hatred for extradimensional beings and loyalty to me. If all goes well, the first batch of warriors will face hellish creatures; they will die there, providing research data for subsequent modifications and valuable experience for the perfect modification plan. If they don't die… I will personally eliminate them."

"Do you have any news?" Agent Coulson was taken aback by the sudden influx of information. Although he tried his best not to show any surprise, his eyes widened involuntarily, as if he were seeing Salomon for the first time. He felt that Salomon seemed like a different person today; the Salomon he knew in the past would never have said such a thing.

"I mean, if Hell were to go to war with Heaven or something, or like those things we encountered in Salem... you know, we have to ensure the safety of ordinary citizens." Agent Coulson had no doubt about Salomon's abilities; he knew that sorcerers could always accomplish things that others couldn't. Although he skipped over the topic of Salomon's abnormal state and human experimentation, he still noted down what the sorcerer had said and all his expressions that day, intending to report it in full to Nick Fury.

This is important data for studying Salomon's psychological activities.

Keeping Salomon under control is crucial; having a Bruce Banner who can go out of control is troublesome enough. If Salomon does also lose control, Agent Coulson believes only Thor can defeat him.

"No, this is a private operation, a practical test. Because it's a private operation, I cannot ask my teacher for help. The Venerable One has already entrusted me with the Holy Sword and Holy Lance. If my teacher were to intervene again, it would be official business." Suppressing rebellious subjects is the monarch's responsibility; this is his own affair—without Vishanti's order, the Venerable One cannot provide assistance, even though Salomon is the Venerable One's disciple. The title of Sorcerer Supreme may seem prestigious, but even the Venerable One has his own difficulties, and he cannot continue to rely on the Venerable One so ungratefully.

This was something Salomon didn't say aloud; he believed Agent Coulson didn't need to know these things.

Salomon raised an eyebrow, seemingly trying to appear relaxed and cheerful. "I'm going to kill the First Demon Pillar that's eyeing Satan's throne. I'm not sure if I can kill it, but it definitely wants my life, so I have to retaliate. Alright, Agent Coulson, I've said enough. You should pass my message on to Nick Fury. If we were to discuss this face-to-face, we'd probably end up fighting again."

He'll regret not being here, Agent Coulson thought. Nick Fury would take you to see a psychiatrist immediately, without a moment's delay. If I could, I'd take you to see a psychiatrist right now, because what you're about to do will give you nightmares every night.

I know that feeling. I'm an agent, and I've done things that corrupt my soul. Agent Coulson opened his mouth, but ultimately didn't utter the words. He felt he wasn't qualified to make decisions for Salomon, but he believed Salomon still needed help and some level of psychological counseling and training to ensure he wouldn't suffer a mental breakdown because of what he was about to do.

Compared to him, Salomon seems to have a more acceptable candidate.

Of course, if Salomon knew what Agent Coulson was thinking, he'd probably laugh. He did have some psychological burdens, but he'd been prepared to bear them since he was thirteen; he was carrying these burdens, getting his hands stained with blood. He, Salomon Messiah Damonette Pendragon, wasn't some teenage boy who'd just gained superpowers and wanted to show off. He was prepared to bear this power and the responsibilities that came with it—the price he had to pay.

Agent Coulson changed the subject, talking about something more relaxed.

"Oh, by the way," Coulson clapped his hands, "would you be interested in talking to Fitz-Simmons? Actually, there's still one of those runestones you left behind that they haven't used yet; they've lost a lot of hair trying to figure out how it works. It hasn't been long since the last mission contact, so they need to relax a bit. If you don't mind, you could chat with them. We have chips, board games, and the best video game console with Call of Duty downloaded—that's Fitz's usual. We also have some of your fans in our group; Skye really loves your armor (Agent Coulson doesn't know if Skye likes it or not, but she has to now), you're sure to find something to enjoy your day there."

Salomon frowned; he sensed something was wrong.

"Wait... how did you know I'm a Call of Duty player?"

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)